“We have lived here for generations, ever since Shezin allowed us to build temples in his name. My mother and grandmother served him before me,” she replied as we crossed the main hall. Other priestesses were lighting the wall-mounted sconces with long matchsticks. Every fire that came to life brought out the beauty within this temple. Hours of labor had gone into building and decorating it, and there were plenty of details to prove it. “We are allowed to take lovers and have children. The boys are left in the care of their fathers. The girls we raise to follow in our footsteps.”
“You abandon your sons?” I asked.
“We cannot care for them while we serve Shezin, and our service to Shezin is for life. Only death may end it.”
Unending and I exchanged glances. This was beginning to sound more and more extreme. Beyond the lavish beauty and eye-catching ceremonies, their leader had allowed—or caused—unpleasant things to happen for generations. I wondered what else had come to pass under his eye aside from faithful women abandoning their sons and children vanishing every month, never to be seen again by their families.
“Your dedication is astounding,” Unending said to the priestess.
“Our god is kind and just. He deserves our unbroken loyalty.”
We stopped before an altar near the southern wall. It had been built with mineral stones of various sizes and colors, likely gathered from different parts of Dain. It didn’t have a particular shape, but its pieces were arranged into a makeshift platform on which offerings had been placed. There were necklaces and other assorted jewelry, gilded belts, precious glass trinkets, and handfuls of single gemstones—some polished, others raw from the mines. Flowers and yellowed scrolls—filled with words of love for Shezin, according to the priestess—were strewn across the altar and overflowed onto the floor. We waited there for a while, watching thousands of candles burn around the platform, the wax melting and dripping over the agate-like mineral stone.
The priestess bowed and left us, joining her sisters as they exited through a lateral door. We were on our own for a while, our breathing echoing through the hall. It felt strange to be in this place, utterly alone. “It’s creepy,” I muttered.
“Makes you wonder how much of what Anunit told us was a lie,” Unending replied. She looked worried, and I understood exactly what was bothering her. Death had obviously kept secrets. We knew that now. She’d lied. And she’d punished Unending for mistakes she herself had also made. The more Unending thought about it, the worse it stung. Our telepathic connection allowed me to eavesdrop on her thoughts sometimes, though it wasn’t her intention. “What are the odds that a rogue Reaper is being more truthful than my maker?”
“Right now? Pretty high, I’m afraid,” I admitted with a sigh. “I’m still baffled about why Death would encourage you to investigate if she’s lying. It doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t she want to keep you away from this place and Shezin?”
Unending nodded. “Normally, yes. But what part of our existence has been normal thus far?” It made me chuckle, though my amusement held a bitter note. She had a point.
A faint jingling made us both turn around just as Shezin entered the hall. He’d changed into a black silk robe with large, gold disks sewn onto the chest and shoulders. The disks linked to a gold band that functioned as a high collar. He wore his long hair pulled into a tight bun on top of his head. It looked like the priestesses’ attire was designed to match his.
“Thank you for waiting,” Shezin said with a smile as he joined us beside the altar. He pointed at his gold and black garments. “This is our attire for the rest of this auspicious night. Every year, after the celebration, we switch to gold and black to await the first sun of the new year. It takes a while to put these on, but it’s a must for the night of the Festival. If I don’t respect all aspects of the traditions I put in place, why would my followers, right?”
I nodded slowly. “Thank you for the honor of your presence and hospitality,” I said. “One of your priestesses said we are invited to stay here?”
“Why, yes. We have a room prepared for you upstairs, with easy access to the stairs and the rooftop gardens. You’ll love the gardens,” he replied, smiling. “How did you like the Festival of Lights?”
“Spectacular,” Unending said. “But we do have questions, of course.”
“I imagine you do,” Shezin chuckled. “Come. Let me take you to your room. We can talk in private there. I’m afraid some things are best kept out of the earshot of my priestesses. They might not understand.”
He led us through a narrow and dimly lit corridor, then up a series of circular stone steps until we reached the top floor. There, the hallway was wider and with plenty of doors on both sides. The far end concluded in a T junction, the halls continuing away in opposite directions. I wondered how many rooms there were in total. The walls were painted dark blue and adorned with gold sconces. Our room was at the end, and just around the corner I could see the marbled stairs leading up to the roof.
“Here we are,” Shezin said as he entered first and welcomed us into our room. It was spacious, and the massive floor to ceiling windows along one wall had been opened wide. The midnight wind brushed through, raising the soft curtains. A massive four-poster bed dominated the western wall, and a large armoire and chest of drawers occupied the eastern one. The candles had been lit for a while in anticipation of our arrival, their wax pooling into bronze plates with delicate handles that could be used to carry them around. “Consider this your home for as long as you’d like. There are clothes in the drawers and fresh linens in the dresser.” Shezin added, “I made sure you won’t be missing anything while you live under my roof.”
“You’re too kind,” Unending said. “But why act as our host, when it is clearly the priestesses who do all the work around here?”
Shezin laughed lightly. “You are honored guests. I took the liberty of handling your arrangements personally. Even though we’ve never met before, we clearly have a shared history through Death. Do we not?”
“It is one of the things I wanted to ask about,” Unending said as she settled at the edge of the bed. Shezin took the armchair in the northwest corner, and I went past the wide open windows and onto the terrace, where the cool and fresh night air awaited me. Above, the lanterns gathered in clusters and began to burst into flames, one after the other. Ashes would rain down on the city soon. The lights slowly dimmed and vanished, since there was nothing for the fires to burn through up there. The blackness of night would eventually return, but as I looked out to the eastern mountains, I was briefly met by a strange sight—a ridge moved, ever so slightly, trees falling off it like broken sticks. It had to be one of the stone giants Anunit had talked about.
“You want to know how Death and I came to be together,” Shezin said, chuckling. “Before I answer, I must ask a question of my own. Who told you about me? I’ve come to your attention, that much is obvious, but how? Other Reapers? Few have come to Dain, and they never stayed long.”
“One of them, yes,” said Unending. “The name is irrelevant. I’m surprised we didn’t hear about you sooner.”
“I wiped their minds and sent them away,” Shezin replied with a grin. “They were rogues and wanderers, for the most part. Like I told you, Death assured me this would be my domain before she left. Dain isn’t supposed to exist in your records. So, I will ask again, who told you about me?”
This felt awkward. As if we were on the wrong side by trying to deceive him. I could certainly see how manipulative he was. It wouldn’t have been hard to ensnare an entire kingdom with his skills. “A Reaper you never saw yourself. She’s an expert in keeping out of sight,” Unending said. “She told us all kinds of things about you, in fact.”
“Oh?”
“Unpleasant things. Things that I had to see for myself in order to believe,” Unending replied. For a moment, the air around me became unbreathable. The tension was high and thick, like smoke filling the room and terrace, where I stood frozen in place. S
hezin didn’t move for about a minute, then he laughed.
“You may have been misled, Unending,” he said. “There are only two things about me that matter. First, I am immortal by the hands of Death herself. Rest assured, early Dainians tried to kill me, more than once. Nothing worked. I always come back, and I never feel a thing. Second, I have only helped this world. They wouldn’t be where they are today without me.”
“If that’s true, why are children disappearing? We were told the stone giants are stealing them,” I asked, making my way back into the room. “Why allow that to happen if you claim to help this world?”
Shezin’s humor faded. “That really is none of your business. The synergy here is not without its price. The stone giants have demands, as do the Dainians. Tell me, Tristan, Unending, does it bother you that I am a god in this world?”
“You’re not a god,” I said, crossing my arms. “You just pretend to be one.”
“These people needed a leader, and I was tired of living an eternity in the shadows. None of the magic Death taught me allowed me to leave Dain. It’s incredible how much I can do with this blasted thing,” he replied, taking out his scythe, “except travel beyond this world. She knew that was exactly what I would end up doing, so she made sure I couldn’t.”
“Death?” Unending asked, raising an eyebrow.
Shezin nodded once. “We loved each other deeply. From the moment she walked into my life, I knew things would never be the same again. I was honored to meet Death, let alone have her affections. I mean… who was I, right? A nobody.”
“Yet she fell in love with you,” I said.
“And I fell in love with her. We were happy for a long time. She brought me here when my world began to die. Gave me immortality and fashioned me a scythe to use,” he replied, turning the weapon over as he admired his reflection across its curved blade. “It’s infused with only a sliver of her power. But it is powerful. It has granted me wonderful things. I was by Death’s side as she discovered new words and sub-words in the fabric of the universe. I was there when she figured out ways to use them. When she fashioned spells. Hell, I was still her lover when she started making Reapers. By then, of course, she went away a lot, and I waited here on Dain, invisible to the developing locals.”
He paused to take a deep breath, giving Unending and me a brief glance.
“But Death is eternal. I wasn’t designed for that, so my feelings didn’t last. As time went by, I fell out of love. I couldn’t help it. When Death loves, she loves intensely and ceaselessly. I let her down in that sense, but… we worked it out. We parted ways, and she left me with Dain. As a parting gift, she gave me the privilege of reaping the Dainians. For ages, I did just that. I stayed out of sight and acted as a Reaper. Whenever one of yours came around, I explained everything. They always tried to check things with ‘management,’ and the constant reminder was… an annoyance to Death. So I’d silence them temporarily. No one was supposed to know about me. Death was specific about it, and I agreed. Imagine if all the Reapers knew she’d made a mortal immortal and given him a world to reap on his own, too. Imagine the insult. I only wiped their minds and cast them far away, and they never returned. Eventually, I launched an invisible shroud over the entire planet. Wandering Reapers cannot see it. I assume your friend who told you about me was either here before the shroud or had direct knowledge of Dain—only Death has that, by the way.”
“I understand. So, you stuck around and reaped people. When did you become their god?” Unending asked. I certainly saw the reason behind Death’s secrecy. She’d bothered Unending about her gift to Erethiel, after doing the same with Shezin. Yes, this whole realm had to be kept secret. It made sense from Death’s point of view, at least.
“I got bored. I got so bored, and the Dainians were struggling. I figured… you know, two birds, one stone. I help them, they make me feel better, everybody’s happy,” Shezin said, slightly amused. “I didn’t think it would bring me much joy at first, but it made my existence more interesting. Remember, I am unable to leave this world. I’ve seen it. All of it. Every inch of it. There is nothing here I have not seen.”
I scoffed. “You became their god to entertain yourself.”
“And to give my eternal existence a deeper meaning. Once Death left, that was it. I never saw her again. For what it’s worth, the Dainians are infinitely better off with me than without me. I only hope you will keep our world a secret from the other Reapers,” he said. “I ask kindly, of course.”
“If we refuse? Will you attack us?” I muttered, remembering his account of what he’d done to other Reapers. I doubted he had the strength to take Unending on, but I did consider the possibility, considering how ancient this guy was. Damn, he was older than my wife.
“I don’t like violence,” he sighed, his shoulders dropping. “I can only hope to convince you. A Reaper as powerful as you, Unending… I really don’t want to fight. Stay. Live here for a while. See what Dain has to offer. See how much the people benefit from my presence and generosity. You’ll understand.”
A faint knock on the door brought the conversation to an end. Shezin got up with a strained smile, gold disks jingling across his chest. “I’m afraid I must leave you now. Rest, enjoy yourselves, explore the rooftop gardens. I shall see you again in the morning, and we can talk more about anything and everything.”
He got up, the silks softly drifting around him as he moved away from us. He seemed to be gliding across the floor as he left the room. Unending closed the door, then turned around to face me.
“You do realize we’re going to find his quarters and break in, right?” she whispered, a devilish smile settling on her lips. It made me chuckle. “It’s the only way we’re going to get some truth out of him. But first, we definitely need to talk to Death again. Both of us.”
“Can we do that?” I asked, wary of the prospect of speaking to Death, even if only for a minute or two. The thought that she’d lied to us one too many times already had fueled the flames of my animosity toward her.
“I reckon we must. At least you can hear her yourself and see how she is with this particular subject,” Unending exhaled sharply. “I’m exhausted. This second trial has revealed another of her secrets, and I’m starting to think that’s the theme of our dance with Anunit.”
“It does make me wonder what the third trial will hold.”
She snorted a bitter laugh. “Right?”
Shezin was trying to come across as a man who’d done Dain a lot of good. According to him, not everything worked out smoothly, and sacrifices had been required—the missing children, the priestesses’ sons and daughters, and who knew what else—but it didn’t make any of this right. It only pointed to deeper and potentially darker secrets. As much as I hated to admit it, I had a feeling Anunit was the only one who’d been honest with us from the very beginning.
I couldn’t bear to imagine how Unending felt in all of this. She didn’t expect her maker to be perfect, but the truths we’d uncovered were cause for heartbreak and disappointment. By this point, the third trial terrified me.
Tristan
The rooftop gardens were as long and wide as the temple itself, offering a rich view of the entire city on both sides of the river. The night had returned, all the lanterns turned to ashes that lingered in the air, twinkling under the triple moons’ light. Gradually, the kingdom was going to sleep, as dawn would arrive in about four or five hours. One by one, the windows of every house around the temple and beyond turned dark, and the streets emptied, leaving a silence that was only broken by the occasional echo of distant footsteps.
Unending and I were in the middle of the gardens, which had a little bit of everything. On the south side, there were vegetables and fragrant herbs. On the east, fruit trees grew with heavy, fruitful branches. On the west, decorative bushes abounded with succulent leaves in wondrous shades of red and purple and fiery orange. On the north, a large table had been set with fifty-one chairs, likely where Shezin and his p
riestesses ate when the weather was good. In-between, stone footpaths connected each side.
We’d found a mirror in the bathroom attached to our chamber, and Unending had deemed it necessary for what we were about to do. Careful not to be seen or heard by anyone who might be nearby, we hid in the small orchard and settled on the tall edge. Unending placed the mirror on one of the square marble blocks that had been left between the trees, likely to be used as stools, then scratched a series of symbols onto its surface.
“Whatever she says, just listen and check her facial expressions,” Unending murmured. “You’re much better at reading people than I am sometimes. Even Death. And I’m personally affected by all of this, so I worry my head isn’t as clear as I’d like it to be.”
I took her hand in mine and gently kissed the knuckles. “I’m with you to the end. Remember that, my love.”
“I’ll never forget it,” she replied, smiling. Our lips met briefly before she resumed the spell. She whispered a string of sub-words as the symbols lit up white. “Death, we need to talk.”
The mirror rippled like the surface of a lake bothered by a pebble. Gradually, its reflection shifted into something dark before a familiar figure emerged. The mirror had a face, with a nose and eyes and the full lips of Death herself. It looked as though she were trying to poke her head through, but it was her ragged breath that startled me. “I’m here,” Death said. “This is thoroughly uncomfortable…”
“It was the only way for us to speak that would both allow Tristan to hear you and avoid triggering any of Anunit’s alarms,” Unending said. “You’ve been lying to us.”
The mirror face stilled, brows furrowed tightly above her slim nose. “That’s insulting.”
“The man used to be your lover!” Unending countered, then gave Death a full account of our every step and conversation up this moment. “You and Shezin were together. You made him a scythe. You taught him raw death magic. While you were making us Reapers, you were coming back here to smooch with your mortal-turned-immortal lover. How long after Shezin sent you away did you start preaching to me about the sanctity of eternity when I fell for Erethiel, huh? You hypocrite.”
A Shade of Vampire 89: A Sanctuary of Foes Page 14