“Sefriall?”
“She was one of the Cyclians. When Ciamon showed up, she switched to him. Sold us all out. Now she’s his deputy and in charge of the sentinels. She talked a few other priests into swapping allegiance as well. But some are just pretending. They’re still on our side really. They’re the ones I meet in the temple.” He sighed heavily. “It’s still getting us nowhere, though.”
The streets were getting busier as they neared the centre of town. Parrash glanced around theatrically, as if to check that no one was in earshot. Fortunately for him, theatrical behaviour was not unusual in Kradja. He stared up at the dome of the temple, set against a brilliant blue sky.
“Yalaish is the all-mother. She gave birth to the world. All life is hers. I used to think if I was one of her priests, I’d be…” Parrash shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe when this is all over I’ll switch to the Cyclians.” Parrash clearly admired Alkoan, but Tevi could tell that his words owed more to cynicism.
The growing crowds made talking freely dangerous and they walked the rest of the way in silence. Once in the temple hall, Tevi led the way, a leisurely stroll, taking in a detour or two to nowhere in particular. She might as well give Parrash a few pointers in deception, but she was not sure if the lesson was absorbed. She could sense his impatience. He was clearly desperate to be out of sight of the sentinels and even gave an audible sigh of relief when they finally reached the small rear chamber. For his sake, Tevi hoped she and Jemeryl could take care of Ciamon and his device soon. Parrash’s long-term future as an undercover agent did not look good.
The neophyte priest immediately hurried to a region of the wall and hunched close, using his back as a shield.
Tevi was having none of it. She tugged on his shoulder. “Show me.”
“You don’t need to—”
“If anything happens, I want to be able to find my way in and out. Show me.”
Parrash frowned, but his hand was on an embossed head, wreathed in plants. Tevi would know where to start looking anyway. “There, feel under the flower. The catch.”
Tevi slid her fingers under the stone rose. A petal shifted at her touch.
“Pull it up.”
Tevi did so and heard a bolt snap back.
“Now, here. This panel. Push down and to the side.”
A hatch swung open, two feet square. Parrash crawled through, grunting faintly.
Tevi followed. “Do you have a lantern?”
“Don’t need it. Give it a few seconds. Anyway, a lantern in here would shine through the cracks and be visible outside.”
Tevi waited until her eyes adapted. Sure enough, a series of small holes let in enough light to see by even after Parrash had slid the panel back in place. She found they were standing in a narrow irregular walkway, squeezed between one wall and another. Parrash started to sidle along, his size making swift movement impossible, but even Tevi could not walk normally in the cramped space.
“Why was this passage made?” Tevi asked.
“The followers of Harretha. They’re the ones who built the temple. The place is riddled with their secret passages.”
“But why?”
“They used to spy on people, and then pretend they learnt the stuff in a vision from their god. Complete bunch of frauds. They were the only ones who knew about it. Kel finally let us in on the secret.”
“Kel’s one of the priests?”
“A seer. She was there yesterday, sitting on the floor, spouting the same old nonsense.”
“Does—”
Parrash stopped her with a hand on her arm and whispered, “We ought to keep the noise down.”
“Right.”
They carried on in as close to silence as the awkward manœuvring allowed. On their route, Tevi passed many spots where a larger hole gave a clear view of a temple room or corridor. Several times she heard voices, amplified by the acoustics of the tunnel. The builders who had constructed the maze for spying had known what they were doing.
After an age of squeezing through the cramped space, Parrash stopped. He leaned his mouth close to Tevi’s ear. “There’s another exit here. It’s easy to open from inside. When you want to return, the catch is on the roof of the lion’s mouth. You’ll see what I mean. Your kinswoman’s room is opposite. About twenty feet to the left. You should take your time and make sure the coast is clear before you get out. I’m going to meet with my contact.”
“Thanks.”
“Good luck.”
“You too.”
Parrash edged away. Tevi waited, listening. Despite her best effort, she could hear nothing. At last she reached out, found a handle, and pulled. A hatch opened at knee height.
After the dim passage, the corridor outside was bright enough to make Tevi’s eyes water, but she did not want to hang around. Squinting, Tevi shut the hatch, then scuttled across the corridor and through the door Parrash had indicated.
No one was currently in the sparsely furnished room. A bed was against one wall with a footlocker at the end. Tevi pulled the lid open and smiled, recognising the belongings. Judging by the absence of other items, Jemeryl was the sole occupant of the room, but she might have company with her when she returned. Tevi ought to get out of sight, and here lay a problem. Hiding places were regrettably limited. The space under the bed was too small and the footlocker was full. There were no bars on the window, but Tevi did not like the idea of dangling outside for an indefinite period. The curtain over the entrance to the garderobe was thin with a foot gap at the bottom, but with no better option, Tevi slipped into the confined space and took a seat. She might as well rest while waiting.
Time passed slowly. The square of sunlight through the window inched up the bedroom wall. Tevi was almost falling asleep when at last, the door handle rattled and turned. Taking care not to disturb the curtain, Tevi raised her feet, then tilted her head and peered around the gap at the side. Jemeryl walked in, accompanied by someone who looked and acted like a servant, carrying a pile of clothes. The servant laid the clothes on the footlocker, bowed, and left.
Jemeryl was alone. But was her mind her own? There was one way to find out. Tevi opened the curtain and stepped out. “Hello, Jem.”
Jemeryl spun around, surprise turning quickly to relief. She crossed the space between them and flung her arms around Tevi.
“I was wondering when you’d get here.”
Chapter Five—A Cause to Doubt
After months on her own, the comfort of Tevi’s physical presence was overwhelming for Jemeryl. She sat beside Tevi on the edge of the bed, her head resting on Tevi’s shoulder and Tevi’s arm around her waist. Could she ever get tired of this? Simply being with her lover, hearing her voice, holding her hand, and looking at her. Of course there was much more that Jemeryl wanted to do, but it would not be wise. She was not due anywhere, and although she was normally left alone, it was possible that someone might walk in on them at any moment.
If they were disturbed, Tevi would need to act the part of a servant. With luck, the ploy would work. Surely nobody could recognise every genuine temple employee on sight. A half-second warning from the sound of the door handle would be enough for Tevi to pick up a fistful of cleaning rags, but not to readjust her clothing. Even so, Jemeryl knew it would be safer to conclude this meeting quickly. Until they had more time, with guaranteed privacy, the limited contact would have to suffice.
Jemeryl raised their joined hands to her lips, pressed a kiss on Tevi’s knuckles, and then sat staring at the familiar mercenary tattoos, mulling over what Tevi had told her. “Do you know what sort of resources these deposed priests can call on? How many are there?”
“I get the feeling there’s only a few. But they might have a role in stopping Ciamon.”
“If we decide to do it.”
“Do what?”
Jemeryl squeezed Tevi’s hand, realising just how desperately she needed to talk things over. “You don’t think he might be right? That the world would be better without mag
ic? I’ve been talking to him, and I’m not so sure anymore.”
“Jem?” Tevi swivelled around to face her. “Are you serious? Have you really gone over to his side?”
“No. I don’t know. I haven’t known since I got here.” Jemeryl gave a wry smile. “I’m hoping you can help sort me out.”
“Is that why you chose to stay?”
“Not exactly, but I knew whatever way I decided, in the end, I needed to be close.”
“I don’t understand your doubts.”
“Ci’s right when he says it’s not fair that some people, like me, are born able to see into all the dimensions, and we get to run everything as if we own the Protectorate. I’m a sorcerer, but I’m no better than anyone else. What right have I to lord it over people?”
“How will getting rid of magic make things any better?”
Jemeryl frowned, confused. “Because then everyone will be the same.”
“But they won’t, will they? Some will be stronger, or richer, or born into the right family. And then they’ll get to lord it over everyone else, and it won’t be the slightest bit different.”
“Magic is so”—Jemeryl waved her hand, searching for the right word—“powerful. It’s not like all the other differences that separate people.”
“I can’t say I noticed, when I was growing up. Since we didn’t have sorcerers, it meant my grandmother got to rule everything, just because of who her mother was. And the men, the way their lives were…nobody in the Protectorate has it that bad, believe me. It was as if they were slaves or children all their lives.”
“That’s because of your magic potion.”
“No. Before we had the potion, it was exactly the same, except it was the men who got to do what they wanted and the women who were treated like children.”
Jemeryl could not agree. “The difference between men and women is insignificant. Do you honestly think if there were no sorcerers, then the whole world would start acting as if gender was some great division between people?”
“Maybe. Or maybe they’d think of some other trait to pick on, like what their skin was.”
“Nobody is going to enslave or kill somebody else over something daft like that.”
“Don’t you believe it.”
“Magic makes a massive difference to the amount of power somebody has.”
“And if the difference wasn’t so marked, maybe the people on the top would have to work that much harder to stay in their place, and be that much more brutal in keeping the rest down. Ciamon’s device isn’t going to change what people are like, and it isn’t going to make everyone equal.”
“It can make everyone equal under the law. I know the Coven has rules and things, but the rules get broken. Some bad things get done, and the culprits get away with it, because of what they are.”
“My grandmother could do what she liked and get away with it, because her word was the law. I was exiled. If it had suited her, I’d be dead. I agree the Protectorate isn’t perfect, but it’s a good starting point. If that story Ciamon told you is true, you need to go back to Lyremouth, start making a fuss, and challenge Alendy and the other sorcerer.”
“It’s not just the Protectorate. Ci will put an end to people like Bykoda. I know how much you hated her empire.”
“Part of what I hated about Bykoda was the way she reminded me of my grandmother. The pair of them were cut from the same cloth.”
“So your objections boil down to how you felt about your grandmother?”
“She’s a genuine practical example. All Ciamon has are naïve pipe dreams.”
Jemeryl chewed her lip, trying to get to the core of her doubts. “Ci’s a good man. He wants to make the world a better place.”
“Don’t we all? But he’s going the wrong way about it.”
“He means well.”
“They’re the most dangerous sort.”
Jemeryl closed her eyes. Was Tevi right? Over the previous months, her opinion had swung back and forth, until she was no longer sure what she thought. Ciamon’s idealism was infectious. Whether or not events worked out the way he intended, Jemeryl wanted to believe it was possible to build a better world.
“You don’t think ideals are worth striving for, even if you fail?”
“I’ll leave you to explain it to the first pile of corpses we come across.”
“I’m talking about freedom and fairness.”
“I’m talking about massacres.”
Jemeryl opened her eyes and studied Tevi’s face. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“You think it will come to that?”
“I know it will. I was worried before I came here. But now…” Tevi shook her head. “There’s going to be a bloodbath.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s an idiot. He doesn’t know what he’s stirring up. This new religion has got the whole town simmering—his stupid god and blaming the Nolians for everything.”
“That’s just a story he made up.”
“Perhaps to him. But doesn’t he expect people to believe it? The first night I was here, I saw somebody almost beaten to death because of it.” Tevi held both of Jemeryl’s hands. “Look. Ciamon thinks that getting rid of magic will make the world perfect. I think it will mean that a different group of bastards end up on top. Maybe he’s right and I’m wrong. But if I’m the one who’s right, millions could die. It’s too big a risk to take on the chance that all bad behaviour is due to sorcerers. We have to stop him.”
Jemeryl leaned forward and rested her head on Tevi’s shoulder. Part of her still agreed with Ciamon, but she trusted Tevi’s judgement. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
The sudden surge of relief surprised Jemeryl. Was it because sharing the decision had shared the responsibility? Was she pleased not to have to make a moral judgement on the issue? Or was it that she now had an excuse to try and get back all her special abilities? Now she could tell herself that she was doing it for the sake of others. “Tevi, I…”
“What?”
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Being here when I need you.” Jemeryl kissed Tevi softly. The issue was still not fully resolved for her, but it could wait. “Stoping Ci isn’t going to be easy.”
“Seeing he’s able to work magic and you can’t.”
“No. He’s affected the same as me.”
“His idol still projects its glamour.”
“That’s because the seven dimensions are still there. The forces in them work the same as ever. All the morphology does is to stop us being able to perceive them.”
“Morphology?”
“It’s what his emanator projects. It imposes a morphology, a pattern, on the skein.”
“And the skein is?”
“The web that interconnects all life forces in the fifth dimension. It’s called the skein because it’s such a tangled mess.” Jemeryl paused. “Except I guess, with the morphology, it isn’t as tangled as before.”
“His device is an untangler?”
“It’s a harmonic array emanator. But I guess that won’t make a lot of sense to you.”
“It’s all right. Haven’t you noticed I’ve got pretty good at bluffing?” Tevi grinned. “His device has put a pattern on the skein, and that stops magic working?”
“It puts a perceptual bar on the higher dimensions, so I’m blind to them, like you. But the dimensions themselves are unaffected. Magic that was set up before the morphology was imposed will carry on working. Even more than before, because nobody can now see how to dispel it. Hence the glamour on the idol is still going.”
Tevi nodded. “Right. That explains Klara. Your bond to her was still there, but you could no longer pull the strings.”
“She’s not a puppet. But the analogy isn’t too far off.”
“So there’s no reason why the priests can’t kill Ciamon?”
Jemeryl shook her head sharply. “They mustn’t.”
“You still care about him?”
Jemeryl was aware of Tevi, studying her face. “It’s not that. Yes, I do care about him. We were very close friends.”
“You were lovers.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Not as long as it stays in the past tense.”
Jemeryl laughed. “You don’t need to worry. It was over, long before we finished as apprentices. Ci is a kind, caring person, but he’s far too much emotional hard work. There are only so many times a day I can cope with my lover bursting into tears.”
“Now you tell me. Could you let me know what my limit is, so I don’t go over by accident?”
“Don’t worry, you’ve never come close.” Jemeryl smiled, and then became more serious. “I don’t want to see him killed, but that’s not why I said no. Killing him won’t do any good, because the emanator will carry on projecting its morphology, and that’s what we need to stop. I was always a much stronger sorcerer than Ci. Once we get the magic back, I’ll be able to overcome him. Then we can take him to Lyremouth.” Jemeryl frowned. She did not like the scenario, but what other option was there? “He can tell his story. If nothing else, he’ll see his old superior punished for what she did.”
“Then we have to destroy the idol.”
“Yes. But that’s where we hit the problem. Before he activated the emanator, Ci put some protective spells on it. The glamour was one. I don’t know what the others are. I doubt these priests will be able to get through the protection, and it would be dangerous for them to try.”
“What can we do?”
“I need Ci to tell me what protective spells he used. Then, maybe, I can think of a way round them. If Ci is murdered, we’ll never find out how to destroy the idol.”
“So, you need to work on him, and I need to talk the priests into attacking the idol rather than killing Ciamon.”
“That sums it up.” Jemeryl leaned forward and kissed Tevi again, their lips moulding together. She had missed this contact so much, but then she broke away. “And now you need to go, before someone turns up and you have to act like a housemaid.”
The High Priest and the Idol Page 10