“That’s unlikely,” Alaric said, “but I take your point.” He stood and paced beneath the tent, his feet in their soft desert shoes scuffing the rugs. “We’re looking for a particular ritual. Or, more accurately, a connection between the Ma’tzehar temple and the ritual we have, the one we’ve named the coming of age ritual. Kalanath’s dream led us here, so that’s as much as we know. We hope it will be clearer when we get there.”
“And Chakhran asked us to bring back a gold phoenix feather from the temple,” Sienne added.
“So the temple is all that interests you,” Vaishant said. “That seems very simple.”
“Which means it will probably get complicated fast, knowing our previous jobs,” Dianthe said.
“Even so,” Ghrita said. “The temple is near the center of the city, so we may have to fight off animals, but after the basilisks, those will be easy.”
“Though we will still travel with care,” Vaishant warned. “Complacency is our enemy.” He stood and brushed himself off. “Let us go on.”
Brassy sunlight beat down on Sienne from a white sky as they rode northward. She felt sorry for her horse, though it didn’t seem bothered by the heat, just kept plodding along as if it knew its destination and didn’t need Vaishant’s guidance. She drank some water and focused on the city in the distance. Surely it should grow nearer, or larger—anything to show they’d made progress?
The heat ripples intensified, and between one step and the next, the city came into focus, tiny and perfect. Sienne stared. It didn’t look like Chirantan, which she thought of as a typical Omeiran city with domes and white walls. Ma’tzehar was bright with color, its tall, narrow buildings painted bright blue or grass green or red like the heart of a rose, and the onion-shaped domes atop most of its buildings gleamed gold and copper in the bright afternoon light. It looked like the model of a city rather than the real thing, particularly with distance making it miniature. “It’s beautiful,” Sienne said, then realized they’d stopped. She reined in her horse. “Is something wrong?”
“That is not Ma’tzehar,” Vaishant said. “Not as we know it.”
“Are you saying there’s some other city out here?” Alaric asked.
“There aren’t any cities in the desert except Ma’tzehar,” Ghrita said. “That has to be it.”
“But it is new,” Vaishant said. “That city, whatever it is, has not seen the passing of years to scour away its paint and gilding. No one lives in Ma’tzehar to care for it like that.”
“Let’s think about this,” Dianthe said. “Either there’s another city in the desert no one knows about, that happens to be near where Ma’tzehar is supposed to be, or Ma’tzehar has been mysteriously refurbished. Which is more likely?”
“I will say neither, but that is not possible,” Vaishant said. “Even if this is some other city, that does not explain where Ma’tzehar went. So it must be Ma’tzehar itself.”
“And it’s inhabited,” Alaric said.
“How do you know?” Perrin asked.
“I don’t, but it’s logical. It didn’t paint itself, and unless we’re talking about a magical, thinking city—”
“Oh, I wish you hadn’t said that,” Sienne said. “Now I’m thinking about walking around inside something living.”
“Is that even possible?”
Sienne shook her head. “Not with any magic we have access to. The ancients might have managed it, but if they’d made Ma’tzehar a living city, they would have done it hundreds of years ago and someone would have noticed. So it’s unlikely, thank Averran.”
“All right,” Alaric said, shielding his eyes to gaze at the distant, tiny city. “So it didn’t paint itself, which means someone had to do it, and why paint something if you’re not going to live there? I think it’s reasonable to say Ma’tzehar is no longer uninhabited.”
“But it cannot be lived in. There is not enough water,” Vaishant insisted. “And nowhere to grow food or raise animals.”
“You said the pakhshani live in the desert. Couldn’t they, I don’t know, make the city a permanent home and go on surviving as they usually do?” Dianthe was looking off in the direction of tiny Ma’tzehar too, and her hands were closed tight on her reins.
“They could, but that’s even more unlikely than a living city,” Ghrita said. “They’re disdainful of city dwellers and only ever come to the outskirts of Chirantan to do their trading. We have to go to them if we want to sell our goods.”
“But you said it was unusual that the pakhshani didn’t keep the basilisks in check,” Sienne said. “What if this is why? That they’ve left their usual territory for Ma’tzehar?”
“It could be,” Vaishant said. “I do not like to guess.”
“Then we must continue on,” Kalanath said. “And we will know and not guess.”
“We need to have a plan,” Alaric said. “I don’t like riding into the unknown. Is there any way for us to get close without being observed, assuming there are people in the city to do the observing?”
“Ma’tzehar used to have a city wall,” Vaishant said. “It is mostly fallen.”
“Unless they rebuilt it when they painted,” Dianthe pointed out.
“If it is, that will only help us some. There is nothing but dunes surrounding the city, nothing to hide our approach. But if we go on the southeast…it is opposite where the city gate used to be, and if they rebuilt the wall, they might keep the gate instead of tearing down walls for a new one. Anyone watching will be looking at the gate.”
“We hope,” Kalanath said.
Vaishant nodded agreement.
“I believe,” Perrin said, flicking through his riffle of blessings, “I may be able to…yes, I received one scrying blessing today. I can at least verify our hypothesis, and perhaps learn more than that.”
“Do it,” Alaric said. “We’re in no hurry now.”
Perrin walked a few paces away and settled on the sand cross-legged. He withdrew a blue-smudged square of rice paper from the little bundle and held it in front of his closed eyes. “O Lord, have patience in your crankiness, and grant me this blessing,” he said. Blue light flickered behind his eyelids, and when he opened his eyes, they were solid blue, the whites and iris completely covered. Sienne watched Vaishant, but he looked only normally interested, not repulsed or disdainful, so she returned her attention to Perrin.
Perrin blinked slowly a few times. “I see the city,” he said. “From a very great height, as of a bird flying overhead. Now I circle inward, and down. The highest towers seem made of gold, and it is fresh—there are no cracks or peels, nothing to say it was not gilded yesterday.” He wetted his lips with his tongue, and Sienne uncorked her waterskin and handed it to him. “Thank you.” He drank deeply, then said, “I am closer now. There are people in the streets. Many people. It looks like an ordinary city, men and women buying and selling, walking from place to place—I see no animals in the streets, no horses, no dogs or cats.”
“Can you see the wall?” Alaric said.
“I am attempting to do so now.” Perrin went silent for a few moments. “The wall is intact, and I see the gate. Let me…yes, I believe it is on the northwest. I will circle the city now. Men stand outside the gate and above it, on the wall, but there are no sentinels elsewhere. More to the point, I see no traffic outside the city, no one approaching the gate in either direction. When I return to the gate, I do not see that there is any interest in it despite the many pedestrians who pass close by. It is almost as if something keeps them away from it.”
“See if you can find the temple,” Sienne suggested. Alaric caught her eye and nodded approval.
“It looks like the one in Chirantan, yes?” Perrin closed his eyes briefly. The blue wasn’t so bright as it had been. “Many streets, many men and women. They are dressed rather more colorfully than their counterparts in Chirantan. I see a small boy steal an apple from a cart and run away. The cart owner sees, but does nothing, says nothing. Interesting.”
“
Very interesting,” Alaric agreed. “What else?”
“There is a large, colorful building I take to be a palace. Giant crystals, the size of a man’s head, ornament its towers and roofs. Beside it…that must be the temple, but it is strangely plain and looks much older than the rest of the city. Its domed roof is not gilded, and there is no beacon fire laid in its tower. I—” He blinked rapidly. “My sight is fading.”
“That was more than enough,” Alaric said. “So the temple is there, but didn’t get the same treatment as the rest of the city. Does that mean the new inhabitants don’t care about God?”
“I do not want to guess,” Vaishant said. “But for an Omeiran not to care about God…it is unthinkable. It is who we are.”
“And where did they get apples in the middle of the desert?” Dianthe said. “More to the point, what merchant in his right mind would let an urchin get away with that kind of theft? He’d be pegged as a soft touch and lose half his produce in a day.”
“More mysteries,” Ghrita said. “I’m eager to find the answers.”
“I don’t like mysteries,” Alaric said. “Mysteries can get you killed. But at least we know we can safely approach from the southeast.”
“But there is no other way in but the gate on the northwest,” Kalanath said.
“We’ll worry about that when we get there,” Alaric said. “For all we know, this is all perfectly innocent, and we can walk through the gate with no one batting an eyelash.”
“You don’t believe that,” Sienne said.
“No, I don’t, but I was trying to build some of that morale you’re so fond of.” He winked at her and added, “If the wall is short enough, we might be able to get in that way. If not…well, how many times can you cast vanish?”
“It won’t exhaust me to make us all invisible, if that’s what you’re asking. But you know how hard it is to stay together when we can’t see each other.”
“I did not request a blessing to grant us such sight,” Perrin said.
“I think I can do that,” Vaishant said. “God has often granted me Her sight in the past, and I believe She will extend her gift to all of you.”
Alaric nodded. “Then that’s our next step. At the very least, I’d like to know more about this situation before giving away our presence. Let’s ride on, and pray we haven’t missed anything important.”
It took another two hours to reach the city. It was even more impressive close up than it had been as a tiny model, its buildings more vertical than horizontal and running to towers and spires and onion-shaped domes. This close, Sienne could see the walls were painted in patterns, not solid colors, their designs made to draw the eye toward the center of the city where the palace lay. It glittered with a thousand crystals reflecting the afternoon sun. It would be blinding at noon. Chirantan had nothing like it.
They huddled in the shelter of the wall. “It’s too high to climb,” Dianthe said, “even for me.”
“We’ll leave the horses hobbled here,” Alaric said, “and work our way around to the gate. Then Sienne will cast vanish and we’ll sneak through. Any questions?”
“We are going to the temple, yes?” Vaishant said.
“Can you lead us there?”
“If the city’s layout has not changed in its miraculous transformation, yes.”
“Then that’s where we’re going,” Alaric said. He shrugged his shoulders to settle his sword more securely. “Dianthe, I want you in front a ways in case we’re wrong and someone goes for a stroll outside the city. Everyone else, stay close.”
“With pleasure,” Ghrita said with a slow smile, and stepped closer to him. Sienne ground her teeth. Alaric eyed Ghrita, but clearly concluded what Sienne had—this was not the time to call her on her flirtatious behavior. Sienne fell into place behind Alaric and thought about force-blasting Ghrita in the back of the head. Tempting.
Despite everything, she hadn’t realized how big Ma’tzehar was until they’d walked for half an hour without reaching the gate. The wall was plastered over with a white substance that sparkled like Perrin had after the basilisk attack. Glittering wall, sparkling crystal, gilded towers…it was like a city out of a fairy tale, something too beautiful to be real. And yet the wall, when she touched it, felt solid and dry and not at all imaginary. The soft crunching sound of her desert shoes on the sand, the whisper of breezes that occasionally touched her face, were all that kept her from feeling she’d fallen into a vivid dream.
Ahead, Dianthe gestured for them to stop, then trotted back toward them. “We’re close,” she said in a low voice. “Time for some wizardry.”
Sienne opened her spellbook, then hesitated. “Are you going to have a problem with this?” she asked Vaishant. “You’ve never had a spell cast on you before, have you?”
“I have not,” Vaishant said. He didn’t look at all nervous. “But I trust you.”
“Thank you,” Sienne said. “Ghrita?”
“Wizardry intrigues me,” Ghrita said. “And I’ve never been invisible before.” Despite her casual words, she did look nervous, her hands clenched into fists, and she looked at Alaric, not Sienne.
“It’s not as fun as it sounds,” Sienne said. “It only lasts for two hours, so we have to move quickly. Vaishant, usually we have Perrin invoke the sight blessing before I make each of us invisible, so…”
“Clasp hands,” Vaishant said, and stood in the middle of the circle they formed. He bowed his head and said nothing. Sienne watched him, but he didn’t even move his lips, just stood there with his eyes closed. She became intensely aware of Alaric’s hand in her right one, hard and warm, and Dianthe’s smoother, cooler hand in her left, how the flesh felt firm and yet yielding, with the beginnings of sweat forming in her right hand because Alaric’s skin was so warm—
She blinked. Vaishant’s image was fading and intensifying at the same time, becoming an outline drawing of his shape, black and stark. She blinked several more times, but the effect didn’t fade. Then, with a snap, the outline flared and vanished, and Vaishant looked normal again. He raised his head. “I do not know how long it will last, so we should hurry.”
Sienne didn’t waste time asking irrelevant questions about whether he’d actually done anything. She let the spellbook fall open to vanish and began reading, focusing first on Alaric, then the others in turn, and finally on herself. With the influence of Vaishant’s blessing, or whatever you called an Omeiran prayer, her friends were visible as shimmering outlines of themselves, with light beading along the lines that traced out their forms. The effect was identical to Perrin’s blessing of the same type, which intrigued Sienne. More evidence that they really did worship the same God.
12
Alaric turned slowly to survey all of them, then made a “follow me” gesture and set off toward the gate. Sienne tucked her spellbook, which wasn’t affected by vanish, into her robe and followed him. The sound of her breathing sounded abnormally loud, and when she looked down, she saw the sand disturbed by her footsteps, little holes dug by her invisible feet. How alert were those guards, anyway?
She looked up, searching the top of the wall for the sentries Perrin had said stood there. The white heat of midafternoon beat down on her face, blinding her, and she blinked away tears and raised her hand to shield her eyes before remembering it was invisible and would do her no good. She looked again, and suddenly there the guard was—a man dressed in desert robes wearing a head scarf like hers, but black instead of white. He stood atop the wall like a statue, motionless except for his head, which moved as he scanned the distance.
Sienne watched him long enough to determine he wasn’t going to look at the base of the wall, then turned her attention on Alaric, who had reached the gate and was beckoning her to join him. It wasn’t actually a gate, Sienne found, just a gap in the wall, flanked by two more sentries. Strangely, they faced inward rather than outward, their hands resting on large curved swords. Despite the heat, they wore leather breastplates studded with iron and spiked
helmets over their head scarves, and their dark Omeiran faces were shiny with sweat.
Once they were all gathered in front of the gap, Alaric strode through, ignoring the sentries. Sienne followed more slowly, eyeing them for signs that they’d been detected. The sentries on the ground were even more motionless than the one on the wall, with only their eyes roving the streets before them. Sienne found she was holding her breath and let it out slowly, just in case the sentries had good hearing.
Perrin’s description had been inadequate in one respect: there was a wide, empty space between the wall and the first street that looked as if nothing had ever been built there. People thronged the street bordering it, but no one so much as stepped off the road, not even the children who threaded through the crowds, following parents or…Sienne stared in amazement as a little girl no more than eight dipped her hand into a passerby’s belt pouch and came out with a handful of coins. The woman glanced down at the urchin, who made a face and trotted away, not very rapidly. The woman watched her go without raising a cry.
Then Alaric reached the street and hesitated. It did look daunting, all those people. Sienne knew from experience how hard it was to navigate a crowded street when you were invisible. Alaric gestured to them to draw back away from the crowds and pitched his voice low to be barely audible over the sounds of people walking, talking, laughing, and calling out to others to sample their wares. “Vaishant, you’ll need to go first. Don’t move too quickly or we’ll get separated. Everyone, stay close. Remember the longer you stay in contact with someone, the greater the chance they’ll see through vanish. How far is it to the temple?”
“A mile, maybe,” Vaishant said. “It is near the center of the city.”
“That’s not bad. If you do get separated, head for the city center.” Alaric took Sienne’s hand. “Good luck.”
It felt like diving into the sea, entering the crowd, a sea that moved in every direction and smelled of sweat and oils and a dozen clashing fragrances. Sienne let Alaric choose a path and divided her attention between the people surrounding her and Vaishant’s figure, made smaller by distance. The few people Alaric bumped into didn’t even look puzzled, probably because the crush was bad enough it was reasonable to expect people to bump into you, but Sienne thought it was strange that none of them checked their belongings afterward to make sure they hadn’t been the victim of theft. None of them reacted to anyone else at all.
Sands of Memory Page 14