“You leave then,” Bryte said. “I won’t.”
“I don’t want to leave, either,” Kanra said. “But Ileta needs help.”
Bryte might have yielded, but she heard another cry, louder this time and closer. In fact, it seemed to be coming from not far in front of her—about where Lord Inver’s body lay.
She walked toward the body, wondering: How had Lord Inver been restored to life? A terrible idea formed: suppose that life was borrowed, cloaked over another life.
She stopped beside the corpse and called, “Stethan? Stethan, are you here?”
No answer came.
She’d forgotten. He thought his name was Corey. “Corey, it’s Bryte. Can you hear me? Where are you?”
“I don’t know. I can’t get out,” a small voice whimpered. “And it’s so dark in here.”
“Lina,” Bryte shouted, “Come here, quick!”
Lina joined her. “What is it?”
“Stethan is—he’s in Lord Inver.” She shuddered. “That’s how Lord Inver came back to life. He borrowed Stethan’s life.”
Lina stared at the corpse for a long moment, then said, “Yes, I see. And he’ll do it again if we don’t get the boy out.”
Bryte fought down a wave of nausea and asked, “Is he—is he inside that …” Unable to finish, she indicated the corpse with a wave of her hand.
“Not literally, no,” Lina said. “He’s in some sort of stasis, where Lord Inver could draw on his life. Look, that’s an old corpse, not a man just killed.”
Bryte didn’t care. She only wanted to get Stethan.
“Call him again,” Lina said.
“Corey, it’s Bryte. Can you hear me?”
“Yes. Why can’t I see you?”
“Hang on. You will in a minute.” She hoped it was true.
“I have an idea,” Lina said. She cast her power net over Lord Inver’s corpse. The net fell and—vanished.
“Corey,” she called, “can you feel something over you? Something like threads?”
“It feels like a spiderweb,” came the call.
“Good,” Lina said. “It isn’t a spiderweb. Let it wrap all around you, okay?”
“Okay.” The muffled assent was followed by silence.
Slowly, like a fisherman reeling in a large fish, Lina began to reel in the net, rolling the thread back into her hand. Nothing at all happened to Lord Inver’s body, but the net as it rose from it, took the form of a cocoon. It was no longer empty!
Once the white cocoon floated above Lord Inver’s body, Lina guided it away from the corpse, back toward Oryon and the others. Bryte followed, casting a glance back at Lord Inver’s corpse. She was startled to see the body shrivel like a shed snakeskin, until only a dry shell remained.
The wind had died down and the sand devils had disappeared, Bryte noted. The purple sun had faded and the faint disk that remained no longer pulsated. The heat, too, had diminished.
When they reached her, Ileta was sitting up, and Kanra was talking quietly to her. Only Oryon lay as they’d left him, barely breathing.
Lina gave a quick jerk on the string that held the power-net, releasing it. The boy Bryte had known as Corey but now knew to be her brother Stethan tumbled to the sand. Kanra and Bryte both jumped to help him up.
They lifted him together, but it was Kanra he clung to. “I knew you’d come to find me,” he said, speaking into her skirt, so that his voice was muffled.
Bryte tried to suppress the pang of jealousy she felt. After all, he’d known Kanra all his life, whereas he’d known Bryte only a short time and did not know that she was his sister—or that she had been the one who found and rescued him.
Ileta took Bryte’s hand and squeezed it. “It’ll be all right,” she said softly.
“How do we get back?” Lina asked.
Bryte looked around. And saw, as if in answer to Lina’s question, the door they’d come through, looking very odd standing on its own in the middle of this desert. She pointed. “There!”
Lina cast the power-net over Oryon’s prone body. It enfolded him, and when she pulled the tether, it lifted him, floating him in its cloudlike embrace.
“We’re going now,” Kanra told Stethan, disengaging him from her embrace. “We’re taking you home.”
Lina had already passed through the doorway with the floating power-net holding Oryon. Kanra followed her.
Bryte took Stethan’s hand, Ileta took his other hand, and together brother and sisters passed through the door, which swung closed behind them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DECISIONS
They were back in what Bryte thought of as the throne room. It was empty. She pondered its many doors, wondering if one of them would take them back to their world.
One door opened, and Lord Claid limped through. He was bleeding from cuts all over his body, his face was bruised, one eye was swollen shut, and his lips were raw and bloody. One hoof had a chunk broken out of it.
He gave a rueful smile at her shocked expression. “You should see the other guys,” he said with a laugh. “You wouldn’t have won your battle if I hadn’t won mine.”
“You’ve been battling another Dire Lord?” Kanra asked.
“Two of them,” Lord Claid answered. “The ones that were helping Inver. I had to keep them occupied to give you a fair chance with Inver. You did well, by the way. I see you have the boy, and I knew when you did away with Inver. This time he won’t come back.”
“No, there was nothing left of him this time,” Bryte said. “But Oryon was badly hurt. He needs healing.”
“Fast!” Lina put in.
Lord Claid nodded and climbed onto the dais, where he eased himself into his chair with a groan. “Go through that third door over there.” He pointed.
Lina reached the indicated door first and opened it without waiting for the others. They followed and found themselves in Pauline Kipley’s parlor. Pauline, Aubie, and Frannie rose, startled by their sudden appearance.
The Widow Kipley, recovered from her injuries, directed Lina to release Oryon from the power-net onto the sofa. When he fell from the net, he looked dead, but the widow took both his hands in hers and spoke softly to him, words that were not audible even to Bryte.
The Widow Kipley looked up. “This will take time,” she said. “And it will require my complete concentration. You must all leave.”
Lina, however, said, “I won’t leave him.”
“Stay, then, but the others must go. And you mustn’t make a sound or interrupt me in any way.”
Lina promised, and Aubie and Frannie herded the others out. Bryte would have liked to stay with Lina, but they did have unfinished business to take care of. They had to see Lord Hallomer, not only to return Ileta to her father but to determine Stethan’s status. Bryte no longer cared whether her father acknowledged her or not, but she was determined to see Stethan receive the name and inheritance that were rightfully his.
When Bryte asked Aubie to drive them to the Hallomer estate, she expected him to object, but if he had planned to, a glare from Frannie kept him quiet.
Stethan still believed himself to be Corey. Kanra took him aside and explained gently about the identity switch and the reason for it. Able to hear the entire conversation, Bryte grieved for her brother. He had so much to adjust to, now including the revelation that Corey’s death had been meant for him.
“He should be alive,” Stethan sobbed. “I’m the one who should’ve died.”
Kanra held and soothed him. Bryte longed to offer him consolation too, but she felt awkward, not wanting to intrude. He’d need time to accept her as his sister. He was quiet and clung to Kanra as Aubie drove them all to Lord Hallomer’s house. Bryte was quiet, too, not knowing what to say to help the boy.
When they reached her home, Ileta easily convinced the gatekeeper to allow them to enter. Bryte dreaded another confrontation with the horrid Kirsie, but another servant opened the front door. Seeing Ileta, she let them into the foyer and bid th
em wait, then ran to fetch Lord Hallomer.
When he strode toward them, arms open to embrace Ileta, she drew back and pushed Stethan and Bryte forward. “You have three children,” she said. “Take all of us or none.”
“Ileta, my dear, you don’t understand,” he said. “I did what I did to protect you. These others were cursed. I could not allow them—”
“Being gifted isn’t a curse,” Bryte broke in, struggling to keep her rage-light from bursting forth. “The only one cursed was Lord Inver, and he’s dead. For good this time. He nearly killed Stethan. He tried to kill me. And you didn’t care; you wouldn’t protect us from him. You talk about protecting Ileta, but Ileta wouldn’t have needed protection if you had stood up against Lord Inver instead of sacrificing your own children for his sake.”
He stepped back several paces. She had not entirely held in her rage-light; she could see a glow about her, but more subdued, less blinding than when she had needed it for defense. Maybe she was learning control.
But she was angry. And tired. “You gonna keep us standing here in the entrance hall like beggars, or are you gonna invite us in for a civilized conversation?”
He glared at her as though ready to refuse, but he stepped aside and motioned them through a doorway into a sitting room. Bryte plopped into a chair. Kanra and Ileta sat side by side on a sofa, while Stethan perched on the arm of the sofa, next to Kanra. Lord Hallomer took a seat, but Aubie and Frannie remained standing by the door.
Bryte thought of all she’d wanted to say to her father: all the accusations, all the questions, all the demands. As she tried to think how to start, Ileta spoke.
“Father, with Lord Inver dead, your influence with the Triumvirate should increase. You hold an important position, after all. You have a chance to do a lot of good and further your own aims at the same time.”
Lord Hallomer shook his head, but Ileta persisted. “Think! The persecution of the gifted was almost entirely Lord Inver’s doing. You’ve told me that it was he who convinced the Triumvirate that the gifted were a threat. You can convince them otherwise. You have the opportunity to undo all the harm Lord Inver has done.”
Bryte was tempted to jump into the conversation, but her sister was doing well on her own. No point in butting in, especially when she understood little of the political situation, about which Ileta seemed well informed.
Kanra didn’t hesitate to speak. “Lord Hallomer, you have two gifted children whom you repudiated solely to please Lord Inver. You owe it to them to let them live in peace. You don’t have to take them in if you don’t wish to. I love Stethan and will gladly keep him with me. I’ll leave the temple and set up a home for us. Bryte, you can live with us.”
At last Lord Hallomer found his voice. He cleared his throat, looked down at the floor, and mumbled, “I suppose there is some merit to what you say. If I can gain an audience with the Triumvirate—which is not assured, mind you—I’ll do what I can. They may be willing, now that Inver’s gone, to alleviate the suffering of the gifted.”
“They will be, I’m sure, if you are,” Ileta said.
“Well—harrumph—I’ve never approved of Inver’s doings. I—ah—I was below him in rank and forced to follow his directives, regardless of my personal feelings.”
“So you’ll do it?” Ileta asked excitedly. “You’ll go to the Triumvirate?”
“Well, ah, yes—if I can get an audience.”
Ileta rose, ran to her father, and kissed his forehead. “You’ll get one, I’m sure of it.”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” Frannie said diffidently, stepping forward. “There’s someone who could accompany you as a spokesman for the gifted. He’s truly a brilliant man.”
Lord Hallomer scowled. Frannie could ruin the whole endeavor. But Frannie continued. “He’s well educated and speaks well, sir. He’ll bolster your case, by showing how the gifted can benefit the state.”
“And who is this paragon, and where would I find him?” Lord Hallomer said in a voice that could have frozen water.
“He’s Master Onigon,” Frannie said. “He has an office in the flats.”
“The flats!” Lord Hallomer’s scornful exclamation made Bryte’s anger rise again.
“I know him,” she said, “He’s honest and trustworthy. And there’s nothing wrong with living in the flats. It’s where I’ve lived all my life. Where else can the gifted hide from Lord Inver’s men?”
“Hmm. Well—harrumph—I suppose I could talk to him. I’d better know what hope this scheme has of succeeding before I make a fool of myself before the Triumvirate.”
So. He saw Frannie’s suggestion as an out, a chance to have an excuse to cast aside the whole idea of going before the Triumvirate and trying to change things.
But Aubie said, “We’ll be happy to fetch him, while you get better acquainted with these young’uns of yours.”
“Go ahead, then. Bring the man here, and we’ll see how to proceed.”
Bryte’s heart thrilled. Lord Hallomer was no match for Master Onigon. They’d win. She was confident of it.
I didn’t expect to wake up in this world. The Dire Realms is the place of death, and I should have awakened there, but I don’t want to think about that.
I’m here, so I guess that means we defeated Lord Inver. Lina’s sitting there looking smug, so I suppose she got him again. But will he stay dead this time? I’ll ask her about that, but not yet. I have a lot to think about before I let her know I’m awake.
I got what I came to Tirbat for—a position with a high government official. And where did it get me? Back to the Dire Realms. Nearly dead. And worse, I killed. A child. I can’t forget that. I may have been under Lord Inver’s control at the time, and he had my soul, with my conscience, locked up in that box, but does that excuse me? The others think it does, but I don’t. I knew what I was doing and I knew it was wrong. I didn’t care.
Yes, I would have cared if I’d had my soul. But it was in that box because Lord Inver set a trap for me, and I fell right into it.
How can I say that it won’t happen again? I don’t trust myself. I have to get away, have to think, to sort things out.
I can only think of one place I might get help, might find myself again, and I’ll have to go there alone. Lina won’t understand, but I can’t let that stop me. She’ll do fine on her own. She has that power-net she came to Tirbat to find. Don’t know why she puts so much stock in that. It belongs to the Widow Kipley, but Lina means to keep it, and she’ll find a way.
The Widow Kipley healed my physical injuries, but I need another kind of healing.
I have to go to the shrine of the Lady Kyla. If there’s healing for me anywhere, it’s there. I’ve always wanted to go there someday, and this is the time. I’ll have to take it slow, earn money doing odd jobs as I go. But I’ll get there, and then I’ll find out what the future holds for me. I don’t know what makes me so sure of that, but I am.
Lina’s figured out that I’m awake. I’ll have to tell her what I’ve decided and where I’m going, and that I have to go alone. She won’t like it, but she’ll get over it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
FROM THE SEVENTH TIER TO …?
The seventh tier! She was not only on the seventh tier, but in the Palace of Government, standing before the Triumvirate. Bryte could scarcely believe it.
Seated behind a long, highly polished table, were the three members of the Triumvirate: Lady Webler, Lord Greenlee, and Lord Cannabarger. Lady Webler was a white-haired, pink-cheeked, grandmotherly woman, who Bryte thought might be sympathetic to their cause. Lord Greenlee was younger, stern-faced, but his dark eyes held no hint of cruelty. Lord Cannabarger’s thick glasses and heavy beard made his face difficult to read, but he leaned forward and listened to testimony with intense interest.
Master Onigon was dressed as Bryte had never seen him: in a black scholar’s robe and scarlet tippet decorated with the insignia of the National University of Tirbat.
Lord Hallomer w
as dressed more ostentatiously than the members of the Triumvirate. They wore plain black robes, like Master Onigon’s but without the tippet. Lord Hallomer resembled a peacock, his magenta cutaway coat topped with an ermine capelet. and over his pleated white dress shirt a scarlet shoulder-to-waist sash of office was festooned with jeweled medals. His gray-and-black-striped trousers were creased to a cutting edge.
Ileta wore a plain white silk dress, simple and elegant. Kanra had abandoned her priestess’s robes for a gown of lustrous blue silk crepe. Bryte had put on a lovely aqua and silver gown Ileta had given her as a belated birthday present. And Stethan wore short dress pants, white shirt, and a striped silk tie.
As presentable as they all were, it was not clothes that would make the impression but words.
Lord Hallomer began by rendering a formal report of Lord Inver’s death (his first one), though the Triumvirate was obviously already informed of the event.
“Has the perpetrator been apprehended?” Lord Cannabarger asked.
“We know her identity, Honorable Lord, but there is strong evidence that she acted to defend herself and others,” Lord Hallomer answered.
“Please explain.”
That was the opening they’d hoped for. Bryte listened apprehensively as Lord Hallomer spoke of Lord Inver’s campaign against the gifted, a campaign that the Triumvirate had certainly sanctioned. Please, let Master Onigon speak, Bryte willed as Lord Hallomer droned on.
At last he said, “These witnesses have testimony to offer not only regarding the manner of Lord Inver’s death but also in defense of the gifted and their place in a just society.”
“Let them speak,” Lady Webler said.
Master Onigon stepped forward and bowed. “I was a professor of mathematics and head of the College of Sciences of the National University before Lord Inver launched his campaign against the gifted,” he said. “I retain my academic standing, though I have for several years been unable to fill my post but have been forced to serve as a simple moneylender in the flats.”
BRYTE'S ASCENT (Arucadi Series Book 8) Page 25