When asked if any of them feared a possible invasion, Embry laughed. “Shezin would never let them hurt us,” she said. “One swing of his scythe could obliterate entire armies.” The more she mentioned him, the more curious I became about how he’d kept the other Reapers off Dain. I didn’t want this to be another Visio. It couldn’t be. The universe had better taste in the troubles it chose to throw at us.
The city was even more interesting at night. Lights twinkled everywhere. Candles and chandeliers could be spotted through the windows. Streetlamps and oil lamps and wrought iron sconces in the streets. Torches galore. Every sill, every shelf, every flat surface around us was loaded with small chunks of wax, their wicks burning playfully under the starry sky. It cast a beautiful amber light over the streets and the neat brick facades, as if the city itself had been painted with gold and orange oils.
“Do you do this every night?” I asked, pointing at the windows as we made our way up the main alley leading toward the temple of Shezin.
“No. Tonight we cross into the next year. It is our Festival of Lights. When the clock strikes midnight, paper lanterns are released from the top of the temple and from every roof in every city in Dain. For an hour or so, our lanterns shine among the stars as we welcome the new cycle with arms wide open and with warm light in our hearts,” Embry replied.
“The humans do something similar,” Unending chuckled. “Though they have a penchant for the more explosive kind of lights.”
Embry gave me a curious look. By now she had a better grasp of who and what I was, from my human origins to my vampiric nature. She also understood more about Unending and the differences between us, and she was fascinated. “Fireworks,” I said. “With special powders and explosive materials. We shoot them into the sky, and they explode into a myriad of sparkles and colors.”
“Oh, I can only imagine what that looks like,” she murmured, eyes wide with wonder.
“They’re loud, and there’s a lot of smoke afterward. Personally, I like your approach better,” I told her, smiling. “It’s simpler and sweeter.”
“Have you ever seen Shezin yourself?” Unending asked.
Around us, Dainians walked in small groups in the same direction. The entire city was converging on the temple, the streets littered with people eager to come together and celebrate another year gone and another year come. Yet the closer we got to the temple, the heavier my stomach felt. Embry’s stories were nice and all, but I had begun to see those fleeting glances my wife had spotted first. The young Dainians were cheerful and optimistic, but the elders seemed tense whenever they heard their leader’s name. To me, that suggested some people had different impressions of Shezin. They all worshipped him—though I had yet to fully understand what said worship meant—but not everyone loved him like Embry did.
“Every year, yes. At least a couple of times,” the Dainian girl said. “Once for the Festival of Lights, when he preaches his sermon before the lanterns are launched, and again for the Festival of Spring, when he blesses the lands with his scythe. I saw him three times last year because my mother took my brother and me for a special visit.” Her joy faded as she seemed to remember something unpleasant. “Only my mother and I came back.”
“What happened to your brother?” Unending replied, her brow furrowed.
Embry shrugged. “I… I don’t know. Mother had me waiting on the steps of the temple. There were people inside. I could hear them. When she came back, she was crying, saying that Dyon had run off. A few of our uncles and cousins helped me look for him. The priestesses searched the temple, as well, but there was no sign of him. We were told to accept that he may never return.”
“Your mother lost sight of him,” I presumed. “She must’ve felt horrible…”
“She withered away and died a few months later,” Embry replied. “I told her it wasn’t her fault. Dyon had gotten lost before because he couldn’t sit still and never listened. Besides, children disappear here and in other cities all the time, and it’s said that the mountain giants sing to them and only them…”
“Wait, you think the stone giants of the mountains draw children away from your city?” I asked, my heart stopping for a second. Perhaps this was the reason for all those fleeting, fearful glances.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Embry said. “The issue has been brought to Shezin before, but he said that he cannot punish the stone giants after they built our bridges and helped our kingdom thrive. It wouldn’t be right.”
That sounded so wrong…
“Hold on. Is that what Shezin, your almighty leader, told you?” Unending replied incredulously. She looked ahead at the temple rising before us. It was a breathtakingly beautiful structure with white stone pillars covered in blue and bronze paintings, each scene depicting one of his so-called miracles. There were fifty steps to the temple itself. One had to ascend in order to touch the hallowed ground, Embry had explained earlier. Each step represented one of the fifty stages of enlightenment, according to the Book of Shezin.
It was all a bunch of nicely written crap, no doubt about it. But the Dainians had been raised to wholeheartedly believe in his words, and we had no reason to change their minds. Not yet, anyway. Unending and I believed in maintaining minimal interference, though this situation was exceptional in more than one way, especially since we’d been tasked with investigating and killing Shezin—a thought I still had trouble stomaching.
“He argues against violence. The stone giants belong to the land, and if the land deems such sacrifices necessary, we must accept its judgment,” Embry said, though she didn’t sound like she truly believed this particularly sickening tenet. “We don’t know if that is what happened to Dyon. I’ve heard rumors he might have been found and adopted by another family in another city. I’ve tried looking for him beyond, but I was given the names of too many families who might’ve taken my brother, and I am alone. As time passed, the rest of our extended family forgot about Dyon. I’ve learned to accept things as they are.”
“Surely Dyon would have written, at least?” I wondered, but Embry’s sad eyes told me that never happened. The boy simply vanished, never to be seen again.
As the temple loomed before us, I came to see it as the source of evil. He allowed the abduction of children? Maybe Anunit was onto something, after all. This warranted further study, for sure.
By the time the ceremony began, we were gathered outside the temple. Lights shone from within—thousands of candles covering every inch of the temple’s grand staircase except for the path that Shezin walked, Embry had said. There were thousands of Dainians present. Men and women, children and elders alike. They all carried paper lanterns, some gazing toward the temple with admiration and reverence. Others had stern looks, sullen stares and lips faintly twisted with resentment. I was willing to bet every piece of gold in my pouch that these were the people who’d lost sons and daughters of their own—to the stone giants, or perhaps to something else entirely.
Shezin had built his religion on a foundation of lies. It was hard for me to trust anything he supposedly said at this point.
“Oh, he’s about to come out and preach,” Embry said as the crowd murmured around us. The night sky was riddled with stars. At the very center, three moons had emerged, perfect round pearls that shone in unison like silent sisters.
Silence settled over the city as the priestesses came out first. I counted fifty, the same number of steps it took to reach the temple. They stood before the columns, their tall and slender bodies clad in layers of fine blue silk with delicate, bronze-embroidered hems that caught my eye whenever they moved. The priestesses had shaved heads that were covered in ritualistic black tattoos, though I couldn’t quite make out what the designs entailed. A blue strip was painted over their eyes and temples, and their lips were colored bronze.
They held lanterns in their hands, ceremoniously lined up and waiting for Shezin to come out. I saw the light moving as he stepped toward the priestesses. He was tall, b
ut still about two heads beneath them, much like Unending and I were. The sight was almost comical—a man with such power, yet so small as he walked among the people.
He wore a white robe in the style of ancient togas, with blue leaves embroidered over his chest and up his shoulder. His skin was pale, almost pearlescent. His eyes were big and green. A deceitful green, I thought to myself. He was a handsome man, even Unending agreed through our telepathic connection. “I can see why Death fancied him,” she murmured.
“He is wonderful, isn’t he?” Embry said, a broad smile taking over her lips. Love glowed in her eyes, and I felt sorry for her and her departed family. They’d fallen into the hands of a charlatan of the worst kind. I made it my mission to expose this bastard, and Unending was right there with me.
“Welcome, my beloved Dainians!” Shezin said, his voice booming across the entire city. “You honor me with your presence. You bless me with your love. You save me with your kindness.”
“And you protect us!” the crowd shouted in unison.
Shezin smiled. His hair, long and the color of summer grain, flowed down his back. His green eyes scanned the crowd for a while, while the priestesses sang a song about his grace and miracles, their voices rivaling the trills of nightingales. His face was wondrously symmetrical, every line drawn to entice. To seduce. Indeed, no wonder Death herself had fallen for him. Even I had trouble looking away from the guy. For a moment, I wondered what an entire species like Shezin must’ve been like. What a shame they’d perished.
His gaze settled on us, and the recognition was almost immediate. It was written all over his face that he knew exactly what Unending was. It didn’t matter that we’d been nearly drowned in a crowd of tall Dainians—not to him, anyway. “He might’ve sensed me,” Unending whispered. “Or my scythe. Or the presence of death, in general.”
“Even so, that’s very good eyesight,” I muttered. “Maybe he’s got some magic lenses on his eyes or something.”
“Maybe.”
Instinctively, Shezin’s hand moved behind his back, where he probably had his scythe. I had so many questions for this guy, but it was obvious that Death had been lying to us. His knowledge of death magic, based on the miracles alone, proved that they had absolutely met, and that he’d meant something to her. Death had imparted some precious words and sub-words to Shezin, and we had to figure out why.
Most importantly, we had to understand why she’d denied knowing anything about him, yet still urged us to look into him.
“Oh, he’s coming down the steps,” Embry mumbled. “That’s rare…”
The priestesses continued with their song, and many in the crowd hummed along, but every eye was fixed on Shezin as he slowly descended toward us, one hand calmly behind his back as he kept smiling. The strain on his face was impossible to ignore, however.
“Worry not, we’re not here as hostiles,” Unending said, slowly but loud enough for Shezin to hear. It made Embry giggle.
“Why would you wish to hurt him, anyway? He’s untouchable. That’s nonsense,” she replied, then fawned over Shezin. “Your Holiness… It is a blessing to see you, as always.” She bowed before him, and the others around us followed suit. Only Unending and I refrained, but Shezin didn’t seem to mind. He got the pleasantries out of the way first.
“Rest easy, my child,” he told Embry. “We shall have a beautiful night.”
“A beautiful night, indeed,” one of the Dainians behind me said.
“I’m the Unending, the first Reaper of Death,” my wife said, taking the lead. She had plenty of questions of her own, though we both knew this wasn’t the right time to ask them. Anunit had given us three days, so we would have other opportunities to drill this guy without riling up the Dainians in the process. This situation required a degree of delicacy and diplomacy.
“And I am Tristan. Vampire of The Shade. Her husband,” I added.
My title surprised Shezin. “That is impressive. It’s an honor to meet you. It has been a while since I’ve seen a Reaper in these parts.”
“Why is that, if you don’t mind me asking?” Unending replied.
“Well, when I last saw Death, she promised I’d have this world in my care. I didn’t have to be an actual Reaper to do the reaping,” Shezin said, his voice echoing in my head, as well as Unending’s. He was speaking to us telepathically, so the others wouldn’t hear—so the others wouldn’t question his godly status. “I’ve sent every soul of Dain into the afterlife, and the rest of Reaper society doesn’t know about me. I’ve made sure to keep this world concealed from Reapers, and none have stumbled upon it until now.” So, he hadn’t met Anunit. She must’ve observed him without his knowledge. He stopped and laughed lightly. “My, you two get straight down to business. I haven’t even introduced myself yet.”
“We know who you are,” Unending shot back, her tone clipped. The Dainians were speechless, torn between the priestesses’ lovely melodies and our strange conversation. None of them dared to speak. None seemed to wonder why Shezin’s lips didn’t move.
“He’s speaking with his mind. Not all his words are for us…” Embry whispered, utterly fascinated.
“Do you really know who I am?” Shezin asked telepathically. “Perhaps it’s best if I introduce myself anyway. I am Shezin. Once a Sathirian of Sathis, now the god of Dain.”
Unending gave me a brief glance. “I think Sathis was his homeworld.” We continued the conversation with our minds, since it wasn’t the right time to oust the guy as a fraud to his people. If this was how he chose to conduct himself during our first encounter, so be it. We’d figure him out soon enough.
“Indeed, it was. When Death came to reap me, Sathis was gradually dying. We didn’t know it yet, but the atmosphere was withering away, causing all sorts of illnesses. It was only a matter of time before they would become extinct. I was fortunate to have found love in the arms of Death…” He paused to look around. “I must ask before continuing—what brings you to this realm, Tristan and Unending?”
“You,” my wife replied, wearing a flat smile. “You’ve caught our attention.”
“I’m surprised you even know about me. Like I said, Dain should be concealed to Reapers.”
“It may be. But I’m a First Tenner, and Tristan is of the living. We found our way to this place, as you can see,” Unending said without going into details, though this revelation of Shezin’s did make me wonder how Anunit had found Dain. Had she literally stumbled upon it by accident? It wasn’t that insane if I thought about it. From Shezin’s words, a Reaper could come by, but what Reaper wandered through these unknown parts of the universe? Most of them stuck to their routines and the worlds in their care, with no reason to ever get to this solar system. Except for Anunit, I realized, who was hiding from the entire Reaper society. It made sense.
“I do see, yes,” Shezin replied.
His presence didn’t strike me as impressive. In my mind, he was but a man who’d gotten some incredible privileges. A well-spoken fraud. His godly attire and his so-called miracles did not impress me, so I couldn’t bring myself to stand in awe of him like the Dainians. He seemed to pick up on my skepticism. “You don’t like me much,” he said. “That’s okay. I don’t expect you or Unending to understand my work here.”
“I look forward to you helping us understand,” Unending said.
He sighed, but his expression seemed peaceful and kind. “It will be my pleasure, though not right now. As you can see, the Dainians are waiting. Our sermon and celebration of the new year must continue. Please, stay as my guests. You are welcome to participate, if you wish.”
“Thank you,” I replied, nodding once out of politeness.
“I do look forward to speaking to you both soon. I’d love to know what Death has been up to lately,” Shezin said as he turned around and walked back up the fifty steps, rejoining his priestesses just as their last song ended. Facing the crowd once more, he raised his hands and laughed, speaking loudly once more. “What a wonder
ful sight I see!”
“What a wonderful sight of our god!” the Dainians shouted in return.
Unending reached out through our telepathic connection. “He’s on edge, you know. We’ve rattled him.”
“Because he kept one hand behind his back at all times, huh?” I replied, and she nodded slowly, a faint smile testing her lips.
“He was ready to cut us with his scythe if the situation demanded it. One thing’s for certain at this point, though… Death lied to us.”
Yeah, that much was obvious. And now I was eager to hear Shezin’s sermon. I wanted to see what nonsense he spouted to charm his worshippers. Few things irked me as much as a false god, and I had a feeling there were darker, nastier things lurking beneath this pleasant surface. Shezin had secrets. He’d hidden an entire realm from the Reapers, and Death hadn’t done a thing about it.
It had to mean something, and only by talking to Shezin could we hope to find answers. Considering the nibbles of intel we’d gathered from Embry, however, I worried the truth would make my stomach turn. Dain was lovely, but it was overseen by a swindler.
Sofia
As the hours passed, I could tell that we were making progress. It was slow. Incredibly slow. Frustratingly slow. But we were getting somewhere with this. There had been no sightings in over twelve hours, and every original Shadian had been marked by the Reapers in a way that the clones would not be able to reproduce, thanks to the Time Master’s knowledge of death magic and a little help from Death. Of course, there had been no doubles spotted anywhere, either. As if they’d all just vanished.
A Shade of Vampire 89: A Sanctuary of Foes Page 8