D’Naa was still looking at him with an inquisitive expression. “You’re a good man, my lord,” she finally said.
Raeth blushed. “You’re just saying that because I brought you roasted Mahallen sweetmellons.”
“That’s part of it, probably,” D’Naa said, turning back to the table. “This is amazing. How did you get this all up here without arousing suspicion?”
“I spent the afternoon fighting, and the evening making political visits,” Raeth said, moving over to finish combining the contents of two serving dishes. “I didn’t have time for food, so when I finally got back, I told the servants I was ravenous. They’re used to it—my father had a notorious appetite. I told them what I wanted, and they brought it up. And, I was also certain to give my guards the night off. We won’t have to worry about anyone listening at the door.”
“Are you certain that was wise?” D’Naa asked. “What about the danger?”
Raeth shrugged. “The Forgotten have never shown any inclination toward assassination…the only one who’s ever tried anything like that is sitting here right now.”
D’Naa blushed slightly.
Raeth turned back the meal, smiling. “Of course, the cooks only sent up one plate. Fortunately, there are plenty of serving dishes. I think I can improvise something.”
“I don’t even recognize most of these foods,” D’Naa said with wide eyes as Raeth moved a chair over for her to sit in.
“The palace chef is Mahallen,” Raeth said, taking his seat.
“So, no boiled Verdant, I assume?” D’Naa asked.
Raeth chuckled. “He won’t even touch the stuff,” Raeth said. “Most of the dishes are baked fruits—since the Mahallens won’t eat Verdant, they tend to have a bit more variety in their foods than we do in the north. What do you want?”
“Um, a little of everything,” she said.
Raeth nodded, picking up the clean plate and serving a representative portion of foods from the various dishes. Venall’s wonderful cooking was one of the things Raeth had missed during his years in the Irae. Dari, even important ones, usually ate Verdant soup for every meal.
“Don’t think I’m going to let you forget your promise just because you brought me dinner.”
Raeth paused. Promise?
“You said you’d tell me where you went last night,” D’Naa said.
“Oh,” Raeth said, setting down her plate and serving himself. “I went to the Irae to speak with the Patriarch.”
“Patriarch?”
“Head of the Aedin religion,” Raeth explained. “You were right about another thing.”
“I’m developing quite a streak,” D’Naa noted, trying a bite of buttered candyberries. “What was I right about this time?”
“The Sending,” Raeth said. “It’s an Aether—or, rather, the Vo-Dari Bond an Aether that lets them perform the Sending. They call it Illuminous. And that probably means that the Pool of the Forgotten in Saeris Va is really an Aether too.”
D’Naa frowned between bites. “So, what does that mean?” she asked.
“I really don’t know,” Raeth admitted. “I’ve been trying to figure that out all day. I guess if nothing else it means that we’re not fighting the spirits of our Forgotten ancestors, just manifestations of an Aether.”
“But, wouldn’t someone have to be controlling them?” D’Naa asked.
“I think so,” Raeth said. “But I don’t know. Maybe this Aether is different. The others feel like they have some sort of rudimentary intelligence. Perhaps this dark Aether is even smarter.”
D’Naa raised her hand, and Raeth could see the spiderwebs of Verdant running between her fingers and across her palm. As he watched, the Aether’s tips wiggled a bit. “Maybe,” D’Naa said slowly. “I don’t know that it’s really intelligence, though. I’ve always felt. . .I don’t know, like the Aether was connected to something larger, something I could only faintly sense. But, assuming the Dark Aether is intelligent enough to do as you say, why is it attacking us?”
Raeth shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know why anyone would want to attack us.”
D’Naa turned back to her eating, but paused, spoon halfway to her mouth. She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. “How long have you people been throwing criminals into that pool?”
Raeth shrugged. “As far back as the histories go.”
“So, what if these things are those people, only changed somehow?” she asked.
Raeth smiled slightly, chewing on an extremely sweet piece of melon. “First you convince me that the Forgotten aren’t the spirits of our Ancestors, now you want me to assume they are?”
D’Naa snorted. “I didn’t try to persuade you of anything,” she said. “I just told you I don’t believe in the religious implications of the attack. What if when you tossed people into the pool, they Bonded the Aether? But, they didn’t Bond it in the usual way. They were completely submersed in the Aether, so the it saturated their bodies. Now, there isn’t anything left of them but the Aether and a really, really angry soul.”
“I suppose,” Raeth said with a frown. “But, how could there possibly be that many of them? I haven’t looked at the records, but as far as I know we only toss a couple of criminals in a year. There were two hundred thousand Forgotten in the initial assault.”
D’Naa shrugged. “I don’t know,” she eventually said, turning back to her meal.
Despite the lack of conclusions, Raeth was impressed. Except for her accent, D’Naa spoke like an educated cityborn. He had always been led to believe that those from Kavir were intellectually inferior—they didn’t, after all, have formal schools to teach them. Perhaps the Aedin underestimated Kavir’s travelling Hlaa teachers.
“I heard good news from the battle front today,” D’Naa noted in-between bites. “The people are impressed with you.”
Raeth blushed slightly. “We’ve had some luck recently.”
“Is it true that we won a battle for the first time since the creatures invaded?”
“We didn’t retreat,” Raeth said. “That isn’t exactly ‘winning,’ but it’s far better than what we’ve managed before.”
“What changed?” D’Naa asked.
“The High Aedin,” Raeth said. “I convinced them to join in the fighting.”
D’Naa raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Raeth said in response to her unasked question, “but we can be a slightly arrogant people.”
D’Naa smiled, popping a bit of kivirn into her mouth. “I noticed.”
“The High Aedin were ashamed,” Raeth said. “And, to be honest, I don’t really blame them. For the first time in centuries, we’re faced by an enemy we can’t defeat. We’re helpless to protect the Imperium. That is an embarrassing thing to realize. It really didn’t take much to get them back into the fighting once we found a way for them to be useful.”
“There are all kinds of stories floating through the city,” D’Naa said, studying him. “My grandfather came back with a mouthful of gossip and rumors.” She paused. “All of them agree that whatever happened today, you were behind it. The Imperium is safe because of its Emperor.”
“I don’t know about ‘safe,’” Raeth said, shaking his head. “We held them for one day, but the generals tell me we won’t be able to do it much longer. We don’t have enough men. Our troops will run out before theirs do.”
“Still,” D’Naa said. “So far, no commander has been able to make the creatures so much as flinch, but you held them for an entire day. The rumors also say that you fight yourself, that you bear the power of the Ancestors with you, destroying Forgotten with every blow.”
Raeth paused, noticing the curiosity in her eyes. Dare I tell her? He wondered. I know the secret of her Aether—it’s only fair she knows the secret of mine.
“That much, at least, is true,” he said, putting down his spoon and reaching his hand across the table toward her. His Amberite sparkled in his open palm. “I said I
assumed that the dark pool was an Aether, that it could be Bonded. In truth, it wasn’t so much of an assumption. More of a statement.”
D’Naa looked up from his palm with surprise. “You Bonded it?”
Raeth nodded. “During the initial attack. When…my father was pulled into the pool, his struggling sent up a spray of droplets. One hit me in the cheek. I didn’t realize until later what had happened.”
D’Naa peered closely at his Aether, and Raeth let it grow, Amberite crystals creeping out to encase his palm. Then, he let the darkness bleed into the Aether. D’Naa peered closer as the Amberite went from rosy to maroon, shadows shifting inside of it.
“What does it do?” she asked.
“It made my Aether more powerful,” Raeth said. “It grows more quickly, and it can extend further from my body. I also have some sort of power over the Forgotten. When I touch them with my Amberite, I can destroy them with barely a thought.”
“Well, that’s what you have to do,” D’Naa said.
“What?” Raeth asked.
“Go Bond more people to this Night. It has power over the Forgotten.”
Raeth paused. Could he explain the dark voice’s comments? No, that was too much.
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “We’ve been using the Pool of the Forgotten as a means of execution for centuries. I don’t know if it would be safe.”
“Could it be any less dangerous than having your country overrun with Forgotten?” D’Naa pointed out, stabbing another kivirn off the serving tray.
“Good point,” Raeth admitted. “A day ago, I would have jumped at the idea.”
“But?”
“But,” Raeth explained, “the High Aedin are already back in the battle. Though they can’t destroy Forgotten with a thought, it’s practically the same thing. Have you ever seen a High Aedin Amberite Bond in battle?”
“Afraid not,” D’Naa said. “I would have liked to on several occasions, but they always showed up too late to save the village.”
Ouch. “They’re powerful,” Raeth said after a moment’s pause. “They crush Forgotten with nearly every blow. Now that I’ve found a way to keep them protected while they fight, they’re very effective. It isn’t a matter of power, D’Naa, it’s a matter of numbers. No matter how strong our warriors are, the Forgotten are going to overrun them eventually.”
D’Naa continued to eat, a thoughtful look on her face.
She’s beautiful, Raeth thought. The way her hair fell, small braids hanging down over her cheeks. She was even more attractive to him than that first day he’d seen her, standing on the Sending platform weeks before. Now he knew she had a mind to go with the face.
“…Emperor?”
Suddenly, he realized she was looking at him and speaking.
“Hello?” she asked. “You still there, Hern?”
Raeth snapped upright. “Um, yes,” he said. “Sorry.”
“You certainly get distracted easily,” she noted.
“I…have a lot on my mind,” he replied awkwardly.
“Well, like I was saying, there has to be more to this new Aether than just enhancing your old one.”
“I thought so too,” he said, setting down his spoon and knife on his empty plate. “But I can’t figure out what it is. I figure it’s probably similar to Illuminous, so it should have kind of the same effect. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to get a Sending to work.”
“Maybe it’s different than that,” D’Naa said with a shrug. “I mean, Bestarin and Ferrous don’t seem all that similar to me, though Grandfather always said they were grouped together.”
Raeth shrugged.
D’Naa sat in consternation, arms folded on the table. “Do you remember that first night I…visited?” she asked.
“The one when you nearly gave me a heart attack from fright?” he asked. “I heard you clunking around out here and came to see what the noise was. You vined me before I even realized what was happening. Why did you vine that statue, anyway? Was it some way of luring me out of my study?”
D’Naa flushed deeply. “Never mind,” she said quickly. “I remember something odd happening that night. I later convinced myself I was seeing things, but…I could have sworn that the darkness itself attacked me.”
Raeth remembered the incident. She was right about what had happened, but wrong about the one behind it. The voice was the one who had commanded the darkness, not Raeth.
“Well?” D’Naa urged.
“I remember that night,” he said. He couldn’t tell her about the voice—he still wasn’t completely certain he was sane. “But I’m not sure how I got free. I hadn’t had the Aether very long then, and I was somewhat distracted at the time. I thought you were an assassin, after all.”
“Well, it’s worth a try, isn’t it?” D’Naa pressed. “See if I’m right.”
Raeth hesitated, but he couldn’t think of any reason no to, so he shrugged in acquiescence. “What do you want me to do?”
“Try to move the darkness,” D’Naa explained.
“Move the darkness?” Raeth asked.
“Just try.”
Raeth sighed, but he turned toward the balcony. Uncertain what to do, he stared at the shadows just beyond their lanternlight. He could separate his Amberite from the second Aether within him, and he commanded it to do…what? What was it supposed to do?
He pushed the Aether to use its power, trying to get the darkness to change. Nothing happened. This is foolish, he thought.
No, the voice in his head said. It is right.
Raeth paused. What is right? Once again, there was no response.
Raeth ground his teeth in thought. The darkness had moved that one night. Or had it? He tried to remember back to when D’Naa had first attacked him. She was a little bit wrong—the darkness hadn’t been what moved, but something had come from within it.
He stared out into the shadows again.
There, the voice said. Inside the shadows.
And, slowly, Raeth began to sense it. Something, something within the shadows, like pooled water. Only, not a liquid—it was more amorphous. Within it he could sense a power he did not understand.
He reached out to it, tugging on it. The substance resisted, so he pulled harder, towing it into the light.
“Blessed D’Lum!” D’Naa whispered.
Raeth opened his eyes, staring forward. He could see a patch of darkness moving along the floor, like a deep shadow. Sweat ran down his cheeks as he pulled. It was much difficult than commanding his Amberite. When his Aether formed him armor or a sword, it did most of the work. He just had to command. This was different. He had to strain and struggle to pull the shadow forward. Finally, he let out an exhausted breath, and let the darkness free. It immediately snapped back into the shadows.
“Twins, that’s hard!” Raeth said, wiping his brow with a napkin.
“See!” D’Naa said. “You should have listened to me.”
“I did listen to you,” Raeth objected. “That’s why I tried.”
“You were reluctant,” D’Naa accused.
“I was thoughtful,” he corrected. “A vital attribute in an Emperor, if I do say so myself.”
D’Naa chuckled, her eyes turned toward the darkness. “So you can command the shadows.”
Raeth shook his head. “It’s not like that. I’m not moving the shadows, I’m moving something else. Something… .” he struggled for an explanation. “Something that hides in the darkness. I can’t move it very far, though.”
“At least we know what the Aether does,” D’Naa said.
“A little bit,” Raeth agreed. “You’re a very clever woman, D’Naa. Where were you when I was trying to figure this all out last month?”
“I was trying to assassinate you, remember,” she said with a smile.
Raeth chuckled lethargically, still exhausted from his testing of the Aether. “The problem is, we don’t have any experience with this Aether. There’s no one to teach me how to use it.”
“There’s got to be someone else,” D’Naa said. “You can’t be the first one who’s Bonded it. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out this is another secret that’s been kept from you.”
Raeth frowned, leaning back in his chair. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine that happening. The Pool of the Forgotten was so taboo in Aedin society… .
Unless those who Bonded it weren’t Aedin.
Raeth snapped upright, his eyes opening wide.
“Oh dear,” D’Naa mumbled. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
“I’ll be right back,” Raeth promised, standing. “I don’t have to go very far this time.”
#
Raeth had little experience with the palace dungeons. Most criminals were kept in a more modern jail located on the east side of the city. The dungeons were almost anachronistic—a throwback to a previous time. Now, only very special criminals were suited to its gloomy confines.
A Corpate heating pillar glowed quietly in one corner of the large, square room. There was no Nurturer at its side—it probably only received attention for part of the day. Even the stoic Ferrous Bonds must have found the dungeon unpleasant enough to avoid. Other than the pillar, only a solitary lantern provided illumination. A young Aedin guard sat by the doorway, idly tracking his fingers across the tabletop, his arm in a sling.
Raeth stepped quietly into the room, causing the guard to look up with surprise. “My Lord Emperor?” he said, dumbfounded.
“Leave us,” Raeth said quietly, ignoring the guard. His eyes were focused on the cell directly ahead of him. One occupied by a single, dark occupant.
“Yes, my lord,” the guard said, scurrying from the room.
Raeth stood quietly in the dark room, his cloak pulled tight. The air seemed cold despite the Corpate’s warmth.
“Quite the accommodations you provide, Lord Emperor,” an oddly upbeat voice said. The caged form rustled, a figure detaching itself from the shadows to become a man with dark, bruise-like skin. “I wasn’t aware such places as this existed in beautiful ‘modern’ Aedinor.”
He probably likes the darkness and the cold, Raeth thought. It’s no wonder he seems happy.
The Aether of Night Page 34