Down Among the Dead

by K. B. Wagers

  Intellectually I knew the teen Sybil referred to hadn’t really been a teen, but it was a still a hard thing to wrap my head around. I glanced at Mia; she had her arms wrapped around her waist and a lost look in her eyes, but when she looked up at me she mustered a smile.

  “So is it just the Pedalion who hears the petition?” I asked, and Sybil nodded.

  “The petition is heard by the Pedalion; they make the determination over the course of seven of our days.”

  “A day on Faria is thirty-four standard hours,” Aiz supplied, and I blinked.

  “That’s a hell of a long time to be in potentially hostile territory,” Emmory said with a frown. “They’re not going to be happy once they realize the negotiations were just a ruse for the petitions.”

  He wasn’t wrong. The length of the Farian day meant we were looking at close to ten standard days while the Pedalion deliberated. “We’ll have the ship,” I said, tapping a finger against my lower lip. “If I could get the Pedalion to agree to it being Indranan territory, it would give us somewhere safe to stay.”

  “You mean like an embassy?” Aiz made a little face at my nod. “It could work; you’d have to trust them to keep their word. Though the Farians have always been desperate to stay on your good side. But with this, I honestly don’t know how they’re going to react.”

  “Eh.” I waved a hand. “It’ll be fine. Sybil, continue.”

  “The petitioner is allowed to witness the final deliberations and the vote, but they cannot argue for themselves. All arguments must be put into the original petition and it is this, along with the record of the petitioner’s life, that the Pedalion uses to make their judgment.

  “They and they alone decide if the petitioner is worthy to face the gods and have the blessing of the ilios porthmeios.”

  “What happens if they deny the challenge?”

  “Normally, nothing,” Sybil replied. “There’s no shame in the challenge, at least not overtly. I’m sure there are many who don’t understand why someone would willingly choose to end an immortal life. But there’s no punishment from the Pedalion. There is a ten-year waiting period that must be endured before they can issue the challenge again.”

  “Two problems,” I said. “We certainly don’t have ten years and it’s probably unlikely they’ll let us walk if they deny Fasé and Aiz’s challenge,” I muttered. “What happens if the Pedalion grants the challenge?”

  “The petitioner is sent through the entrance to the kai pethaménon psychón—the well of dying souls. Which is located in the Pedalion chamber and it is only opened when the challenge is accepted.”

  “Or for a punishment,” Aiz said.

  “True,” Sybil admitted. “On extremely rare occasions Farians have been sent through to the well to face the gods as a punishment. The petitioner will undergo a series of trials with their witness. They are designed to show the passage of life, to test the resolve of the petitioner, and so the gods can judge if they are worthy of ilios porthmeios. If they succeed, they meet the gods, and their end.”

  “And everyone who has passed through the trials has died?”

  “Every one of them, but they were going to their deaths willingly. I suspect the four of you will have a much better chance.”

  Except we hadn’t planned on Mia and Fasé fighting. I pressed my fingers to my eyes in an effort to relieve the building pressure. Something was nagging at the back of my brain, but every time I focused on the itch it vanished. “What about the trials?”

  “I can’t tell you about the trials; I’ve never seen them, and they change from petitioner to petitioner. It’s said the gods are the ones who create them.” She shook her head. “The final meeting with the gods is also private, but some witnesses have spoken of it.”

  “So we’re going into this blind with a possible fight against three gods at the end of it.” I shared a look with Emmory. “I know I’m supposed to be reckless and shit, but I like this plan less and less.”

  Mia’s muttered “Finally” echoed in the silence that followed. Aiz didn’t look at his sister.

  I hooked my hands at the back of my neck and faced her. “The problem is, we don’t have a better one. I can’t march in there and demand to see the gods. We can’t sneak in because the only way to get to them is through the well of dying souls.

  “If we sit around and wait, those things you saw—whatever they are—come crawling into this galaxy and start killing everyone. Hai Ram, I’ve half a mind to land on Faria and slap the Pedalion around until they come to their senses. It seems like an easier solution.” Dropping my hands, I shrugged helplessly. “I’m open to suggestions, people, but I don’t think we have any other options.”

  Sybil was frowning, but she remained silent as did everyone else, and I voiced the concern that had been rolling around in my brain for days. “You don’t think the Pedalion will grant Aiz’s request, do you, Sybil?”

  “I do not. Fasé’s possibly, because they will jump at the chance to remove her voice. But Aiz—” She shook her head. “I feel as though it is more likely Adora will try to kill you herself than let you have the honor of dying by her gods’ hands.”

  “Why?”

  “The depth of Adora’s hatred for what she considers her family’s greatest betrayal is unfathomable. She knows Aiz is capable of killing them; she will not risk allowing him anywhere near the gods.”

  “Have you seen her vote no?” Aiz pressed, and Sybil shook her head again.

  “I have not. This is too tangled with everything else about the choice the Star must make. I am going off of what I know of Adora, but that, I think, is enough.”

  38

  So you think she’ll vote no to keep Aiz away from the gods and we’ll all end up trapped in the Pedalion chamber? Bugger me.”

  “I don’t agree with you,” Aiz countered. “Adora will see me dead by her gods’ hands. That is the best outcome she could imagine.”

  Sybil wasn’t bothered in the least by his disagreement. “You are welcome to believe otherwise, Aiz; however, I have spent a great deal more time with your sister than you have.”

  I held up a hand before Aiz could reply. “Do you have another idea for getting us in to see the gods, Sybil?”

  “No,” she admitted. “Short of us sneaking into the Pedalion chambers in the middle of the night, me opening up the entrance, and you jumping in?”

  “Okay.” I laughed and blew out a breath. “I mean, I’ll take it if that’s our only other option, but I guess for now we’ll have to run with this one.”

  The group broke, Aiz giving me a look like he wanted to talk before Sybil touched him by the arm and said something I didn’t catch. He nodded and the pair left the room deep in discussion.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said to Mia as I put a hand on her shoulder. There was so much pain seething under the surface of her skin that I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and taking it.

  The shock almost put me on my knees, and Mia swore as Zin grabbed for me.

  “Sorry.” I patted him awkwardly on the arm. “I’ve got it, it’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” Mia said. “How are you doing that?”

  “What just happened?” Emmory’s question cut through the air and I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, wishing I could disappear.

  “Chair,” Mia ordered, and to my surprise Zin deposited me into the seat she’d just vacated without a word of protest. “She took my pain away. When she was fighting Hamah and Talos, she threw her own pain back at Hamah. He said it was like nothing he’d ever felt before.” She dragged a hand through her dark hair, disheveling it, and my fingers itched to bury themselves in the suddenly loose curls.

  “Before anyone asks, I don’t know how I’m doing it,” I said.

  “You struggled for months to control the healing. You can’t pull the energy from outside yourself—”

  “Actually, I did finally figure that part out,” I volunteered with a smile. “We haven’t had a chanc
e to talk about that with everything else going on.”

  Mia pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh, and Emmory’s chuckle almost hid his murmured “Welcome to my life.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re doing, Hail,” Mia said finally. “And it scares me a little.”

  “You were hurting,” I whispered. “I just wanted to make it go away.”

  Zin bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, smiling as he straightened. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out, Mia,” he said, slipping an arm around Emmory’s waist and heading for the door.

  “Figured what out?”

  “That one would cut off her own arm if it meant the people she cared about were spared the pain.” His smile was tinged with sorrow. “And you’ve apparently taught her how to do it without even having to pick up a knife.”

  I pressed my fingers to my mouth at the look of utter shock on Mia’s face as the men left us alone. I was reasonably sure she wouldn’t appreciate it if I laughed.

  “Hail, why?”

  I dropped my hand and met her curious gaze with a smile and a shrug. “When I was little and I’d get in trouble for hurting my sister Cire, I’d ask my father what was the point of getting mad at me? That there was a life before this one and a life after, so what was the point? Why should I be good in this life?” Now I did laugh and rubbed at my throat.

  “I don’t remember this, I think I was six, but he would tell this story all the time. My father, no doubt fed up with my shit, grabbed me by the face and said, ‘Haili, listen to me. Before and after don’t matter. Now matters. You cannot help the people you love before and after, you can only choose to cause them pain or take on their pain now.’

  “I have caused a lot of pain in my life,” I said, holding up a hand to her. Mia took it and I tugged her forward until she was standing between my knees. “I would think you of all people would understand that I don’t want to do it anymore. And Zin, as much as I hate to admit it, is right. I will always stand in the way of whatever is trying to hurt the people I care about. You are included in that.” I skimmed my hands up her arms to cup her face.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Mia murmured, sliding her fingers over my cheek and into my hair.

  “What am I doing?”

  “Trying to distract me. It won’t work.”

  “Should I come back later?” Hao asked.

  Mia pulled away and I contemplated, for just a moment, pulling one of my Glocks and shooting my brother in his smug face.

  “What do you want?”

  Hao’s grin grew and he winked at me as he came into the room and leaned against the desk. “Mia, what are your plans for the mercs?”

  “Nothing yet, why?”

  “No real reason.” He blocked the lazy punch I threw his way as I got to my feet, and I was surprised at the lack of seething rage in my gut. Nothing reacted at all, but I didn’t push my luck and wandered away from Hao, pulling up a star chart on the wall with my smati.

  “He’s planning ahead for when things go to shit,” I said to Mia without turning around. “Do we know if these mysterious foes of ours have the same warp capabilities as you and the Farians?”

  “We don’t, I’m sorry,” she replied. “I would say it’s likely.”

  “There’s no way for us to cover the distance without the tech,” I said to Hao. “Barry met up with some of Mia’s contacts to get what we would need for the remaining Vajrayanas, but there’s bound to be a limited supply there. It’s going to be every sector for themselves.”

  “I can send the mercenaries to protect Indrana.”

  I looked over my shoulder with a low laugh. “Po-Sin would rather set himself on fire than defend my empire now. No, don’t push him on it,” I said when Mia opened her mouth to protest. “He really will return your money and hole up somewhere to ride it out.”

  “Maybe,” Hao said with a shrug. “He’s not vindictive past the point of logic. If he knows for sure something’s coming, he’ll do what needs doing.”

  “We don’t have proof.”

  “Don’t worry about it for now. I’ll handle my uncle when the time comes.”

  “When?” Mia asked. “You don’t think my brother and Hail can win?”

  Hao shrugged. “I have a great deal of faith in her. I’m still deciding on the rest of you.”

  Mia smiled. “It’s good you have faith in her; you’ll need it. We all will.” She smiled mysteriously and moved across the room, leaving us to stare after her.

  “The prophet thing is unsettling no matter who’s doing it,” Hao murmured.

  I bumped my shoulder into his. “Tell me about it. Hey, let’s give Rai a call.”

  “Why?”

  “I just want to talk to him,” I said when he shot me a look.

  “You could have just called him without involving me in it.” Hao tossed the com up onto the blank wall, wiping out the star map I’d been looking at.

  “Yeah, but I like making you feel useful.” I dropped the smile when Rai appeared on the wall. “Hey, Rai, you look like shit.”

  “Hail.” He rubbed a hand over his face, the brown skin under his eyes tinged with purple bruising. “You still mad at me?”

  “Maybe.” I dragged the word out, letting the smile play over my mouth.

  “Almost all my crew on that job took off after your threat, you know. I lost some good people.”

  “Good. They can stay gone and hope I never see them again. How’ve you been?”

  “Did you need something? I’ve got slightly more pressing matters to—” He broke off, his eyes narrowing. “Are you responsible for these damned riots, Hail?”

  Hao was staring at me, openmouthed.

  “I haven’t slept for a week, Hail,” Rai snarled. “What the fuck did you—”

  “Six months,” I said; the tone of my voice was deadly quiet, and Rai shut up. “You could have helped me get Gita to safety. You could have reunited me with Emmory and the others if you’d only taken me to the rubble of my embassy instead of onto Aiz’s ship.”

  “Hail,” he protested. “I took a contract.”

  “I don’t fucking care; at some point loyalty should count for more than money. Don’t bitch at me about a week of no sleep, Bakara Rai, when I spent six months thinking my brother was dead. That was part of my payback. At the moment I’ve decided to let you live; don’t make me change my mind by running your mouth.”

  The fight went out of him and he rubbed at his face again. “Fair enough. What do you want, Hail?”

  “I want someone over there to be prepared for the very real possibility that the shit is going to hit the proverbial fan without worrying about the details of it all. Get yourself ready for war, Rai, a big winner-take-all conflict. There’s no money in this, only survival, and I’ll tell you right now you’re either on my side or the losing side. Be ready for our call.” I smiled a tiny smile. “Since Mia still owns you, this one is not my favor. That loyalty I mentioned? It’s the difference between your people alive or dead. I’ll see about those riots for you. You still owe me, big-time.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Don’t thank me. I might kill you after this is all over.”

  He sighed and raked a hand through his dreads. “I’ll get it done, Hail. Whatever you need.”

  “Good.”

  “Is—is Jo still mad at me?”

  “Oh.” I sucked air in through my teeth. “You have no idea.”

  Rai winced. “I was afraid of that. The first message I got from her was a graphic description of what she was going to do to me when you were finished. It was unpleasant.”

  “You’ll want to apologize a few million times, especially right now with a galaxy between you.” I smiled. “Oh, and Rai, don’t tell Po-Sin this was my idea; tell him it came from the Cevallas.”

  “I was planning on doing that already.” He smirked. “As mad as Jo is at me? That’s a flash in the pan. Po-Sin’s temper burns long and low. I hope you’
re prepared.”

  I knew that comment was directed at Hao, but I didn’t look his way until the com link was disconnected. Hao met my concerned gaze and passed a hand over his hair with a shrug.

  “We’ll deal with it later,” he said. “No point in worrying about it now.” Reaching out and patting me on the shoulder, he winked and headed for the door, leaving me alone with Mia.

  I smiled softly. She was curled in the chair in the corner, and judging from her eyes she was reading something directly from her smati. I realized I hadn’t heard the Shen word for smati in the whole time we’d been on Sparkos and wondered what it was.

  I tossed the star chart back on the wall and leaned against my desk. I had no clue where our mysterious opponents would come from, or even if I’d be alive to help stop them when they came.

  “What is it?” Mia asked when I laughed.

  “I don’t even know where we are.”

  “It bothers you, not knowing where you are.” She unfolded herself from the chair and crossed to me. “Here, approximately.” She ran a slender finger along the Perseus arm of the galaxy up and past the galactic center. “Technically still home for you, just a lot farther away.”

  “And with a massive black hole in between.”

  “The Svatir live out here.” Mia traced along the outer edge of the Sagittarius arm. “Away from the rest of us.”

  “Are there others?”

  Mia shook her head, smiling at the chart. “Not here. This is an old, wild galaxy. We’ve been mostly forgotten by the rest of the universe, which is probably a good thing.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Humans are so young,” she whispered. “You need the space to grow without being overwhelmed by the rest of us.”

  “You’re part human, too, remember?”

  Mia laughed softly. “I do forget at times.”

  “What do you call this?” I tapped at my head. “Our smati.”

  “Ah.” Mia reached up and pressed a finger to my temple and then to hers. “Enlaci. It means—”