by Peter Newman
‘Can we do it while we walk? I should have been in Sagan hours ago, and my brother won’t be happy. I have a man waiting for me with a wagon.’ She glanced up and down the Godroad. ‘Not too far from here, I think.’
He nodded, and the two of them started to walk together, Pari forced to a near jog in order to match the bounding gait given by his Sky-legs. ‘Though I wish the circumstances were better, Lady Pari, I’m very glad to see you again.’
‘Thank you, though I’m not sure the sentiment is shared by your mother.’
‘I’m sorry about that. It’s been … hard for her in the Wild, and I haven’t been able to see her as often as I’d like.’
‘You don’t share her concerns?’
‘What? That you were involved in Rochant’s escape?’ He shook his head. ‘No. No, not at all. It makes no sense for you to do this now and I’m sure my mother will realize that when she’s had some time to reflect.’
Pari was quiet long enough for him to look down at her. She was frowning at the road ahead. ‘Are you? I’m not. Truth be told, Lord Vasin, I’m worried about her.’
He sighed. ‘I’m worried too.’
‘Tell me.’
‘What I just said, about her reflecting and having time to calm down, that’s the sort of thing Mother used to say about me. This isn’t like her. Turning on allies, being unreasonable, and …’ he forced himself to say the words, ‘torturing other Deathless, even enjoying it … it’s like I don’t know her.’
‘Desperation drives people to terrible things.’
‘I feel like I’m fighting so hard to keep a sense of myself in all this.’ He looked at Pari. ‘Everything we’ve done, with Rochant, with the other houses, has all been to bring my mother back. But what if it’s too late? What if her soul has changed so much that we can’t put things back the way they were?’ He choked back a sob. ‘I thought she’d come back from the dead but sometimes … I don’t know.’
Pari stopped walking and put a hand on his bracer, turning him to face her. She pulled on his arm until he looked down into her eyes, which were unusually serious. ‘Nidra may have forgotten who she is, but so long as you haven’t, there’s hope. You have to be the anchor, and the more lost she gets, the stronger you have to be. Do you understand? She is not gone until you let her go.’
‘You really believe that don’t you?’
‘With every fibre of my being.’
There was such intensity in her face, and such sadness, that he didn’t know what to say. She held his gaze for another moment, then let go, her manner becoming light again. ‘Now, let’s get back to the rest of this mess we find ourselves in.’
‘Mother said that Rochant had accomplices.’
‘Yes, at least two of them. They carried him.’ A slight frown creased her brow. ‘He wasn’t in a state to move himself. They’d left a false trail to mislead us and by the time I caught up with them there was …’ she trailed off.
‘It’s not like you to be stuck for words.’
‘Well I’m not sure what I stumbled onto exactly, some kind of fracas between the Red Brothers and a young man. Not much more than a boy, really. I think he’s the one that left me here.’
‘You hunted demons without armour?’
‘Yes.’
‘Without weapons?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Yes.’
‘Alone?’
‘You’re missing the point. This boy, he was dressed oddly, like a Wild-born, but his features were familiar. Sky-born features.’ She tapped Vasin’s chest plate with her fingernail. ‘Sapphire features.’
‘Which family?’
‘No prizes for guessing.’
Vasin tried to keep his mouth from hanging open. ‘He’s had another vessel hidden away all this time?’
‘Yes. We shouldn’t be surprised really. It’s a very Rochant thing to do.’
‘But this ruins everything! With Satyendra at the castle, and this other vessel, his line is more than secure. Suns! He doesn’t even need to leave the forest, all he has to do is kill himself and wait for the rebirthing ceremony to happen. That’s it. We’ve lost!’
‘That seems a little premature, my dear.’
‘Are you making a joke?’
‘No. There’s still a chance to turn this around. Lord Arkav and I are here on official business, to bring High Lord Yadavendra Sapphire to the council of high lords to face judgement for his desecration of Nidra’s Godpiece.’
Vasin scoffed. ‘He’ll never go with you.’
‘I’m rather counting on it. If he refuses us, he’ll be in breach of another sacred tradition. It will be a perfect time for you to step in and remove him. Replace Yadavendra as High Lord, and you can cancel Rochant’s rebirth ceremony before it happens, and you can use his Godpiece to restore your mother.’ Pari tapped his chest plate again. ‘What is it? What aren’t you telling me? I was expecting you to cheer up, or look relieved, but you look as if someone just smoked your last bit of Tack.’
‘That isn’t funny.’
‘Don’t avoid the question.’
Vasin looked up to the sky for guidance. Even when I’m sober, she’s two steps ahead of me. ‘Lady Yadva knows our people murdered Lord Rochant’s descendants and kidnapped him. When we take down Yadavendra, she wants me to support her as the new high lord. If I don’t, she’ll expose me to the others and see me destroyed.’
To his surprise, Pari chuckled. ‘Oh really? And how does she know what you did?’
‘She tortured the information out of Rochant’s guard captain, the one mother turned.’
‘Ah yes, Captain Dil. I knew him when he was boy. Such a shame. And this was, how long ago?’
‘Around the time I last saw you. Does it matter?’
‘Think about it. If she exposes you now, she also exposes the fact that she knew about this for sixteen years and did nothing. It’s hardly the behaviour of a loyal servant of House Sapphire.’
Was it that easy? He couldn’t believe it. It also occurred to him that this could be a warning. He knew things about Pari that would damn her, and yet he had sat on the information for just as long. Perhaps that was her point. ‘Are you saying that it doesn’t matter that she knows?’
‘No, but I am saying that she can’t use it in a public move. She could use it privately to discredit you, I suppose, but again, she risks making herself look bad if she does so. Lady Yadva is many things, but cunning she is not, which is why you cannot let her succeed her father as High Lord.’
‘I’m not exactly cunning either.’
She gave him a knowing smile. ‘No, but you can listen, and that means you can learn.’
Somehow, when Pari talked about things, they made sense. She makes it sound so simple! He knew from bitter experience that it would not be simple when his family next convened. ‘There’s another problem.’
‘Another one?’ She tutted. ‘Honestly, I slip between lives for a decade and a half and the whole world falls apart.’
‘I’d like the chance to listen to more of your wisdom, if I may.’
‘Flattery will get you everywhere. Go on.’
He told her about the strange behaviour of the demons in House Ruby’s lands, and his suspicion that it was somehow connected to Rochant selling out to the Wild. ‘There was something in their manner that reminded me of him. Quiverhive and the others were watchful, measured. And they were sharing that knowledge with others. He knows what’s going on, I’m sure of it.’
Pari nodded. ‘I agree that Rochant knows more than he let on. What’s this about them sharing knowledge?’
‘During the battle, a small Lizardkin came to Quiverhive, communed with it, and flew off, like a messenger.’
‘Was it red and green?’
‘Yes. How did you know?’
‘I saw the same creature, or one very much like it in the hills around Sorn. The Scuttling Corpseman is there, and that Lizardkin was communicating with it.’
‘But it can’t be the same o
ne, they’re miles apart.’
‘Would you like to take a bet on that one, Lord Vasin?’
‘I knew they were coordinating, but not on this scale.’
‘None of us did.’ She gave him a stern look. ‘You need to call a hunt with every Deathless you can muster, and destroy the Corpseman while you still can.’
‘I will. I think Yadavendra is in on this. He turned his back on Sorn and forbade us to intervene. It seems too much of a coincidence now.’
‘Perhaps. I’ll know more after I’ve seen him.’
‘So, what now?’
‘Now we go to your High Lord. We’ll have to travel past Lord Rochant’s castle on the way. There, we can find out if he’s returned or if he’s still hiding in the Wild somewhere.’
They walked on. Though Pari hadn’t solved his problems, Vasin did feel better. It had all seemed too big before, too complex, and she had a way of putting things in perspective. At least now, he could see a way forward.
Not long after, they came across a wagon tucked away on the edge of the tree line.
‘There he is,’ said Pari.
‘Thank you,’ Vasin blurted. ‘I want to say something before we reach your man.’ It felt awkward trying to put feelings into words, especially under Pari’s scrutiny. ‘I’ve felt so alone this lifecycle, and unsure of who to trust. And, well, I know these are strange times but I wanted to say that I’m glad you’re back. It is good to have someone to talk to about all of this.’
‘We’ve come a long way since you threatened to punch me in the face, Lord Vasin, and for whatever it’s worth, I’m glad that I didn’t have to beat you to a pulp.’
‘I would have won that fight. You were barely able to stand.’
‘That’s just what I wanted you to think.’
‘You only had one wing!’
‘At least I wasn’t drunk.’
The banter continued back and forth and, by the time they reached the wagon, both of them were laughing.
Chandni couldn’t decide whether Satyendra’s sullen silence was better or worse than his crazed behaviour in the courtyard. He no longer fought them or argued, but she didn’t dare let her guard down.
After she’d sent Pik to help Satyendra escape, she’d found herself following. Not to interfere, but to see her son one last time. To see him happy. To capture a last memory to cling to in the aftermath and confirm in her mind that she was doing the right thing.
And I have confirmation: he was happy, he was ecstatic … torturing Pik! My son is a monster. Either his body is fit to serve the house or it will be destroyed along with his rancid soul.
And now she knew what he was she wished with all her heart that she didn’t.
True to her word, she had taken on the duty of preparing him herself. No servants, no support, just two guards by the door in case he became violent again.
Normally, an Honoured Mother would not be expected to be present for the preparatory part of the rebirth ceremony. It was deemed cruel. Normally, this would be the point where she would say goodbye to her son and hand over responsibility to others, who would get him ready to meet the Bringers of Endless Order.
But to Chandni it seemed right that she suffer alongside him. After all, his failure to accept his duty was her failing, and deep down she knew his early contact with the Wild was to blame.
If I had not cut myself that day, the Whispercage would not have come, and he would never have been twisted like this. Or maybe it was when I sacrificed Fiya. Maybe my deal to protect him also cursed him. Either way, the fault is mine.
She thought about his allergic reaction to Lord Rochant’s armour, his moods, and the day she’d brought him home and his face had become a transparent mask.
After today, it will all be over. I can only hope that my lord’s soul will purge his body.
He didn’t stop her as she removed his top, allowing her to guide him to a chair. His expression was blank, his eyes downcast. He appeared pitiful, but she didn’t allow herself to feel any pity. This could just be another ploy to hurt me. How sad that I have to think that about my own son.
She took out a pair of scissors and began to cut Satyendra’s hair. With the first snip, her eyes began to water. He has such beautiful hair. But it has to go, Lord Rochant keeps his short. Her numbed hand was clumsy, and she had to work slowly to make sure she didn’t cut him by accident.
The silence between them was almost unbearable but she didn’t dare say anything, fearing that the wrong word from her would set him off. Afterwards, she removed the rest of his clothing and scrubbed him from head to toe, using water infused with Lord Rochant’s favourite flowers. When he was towelled dry, she wrapped him in a robe, ready for his walk of transition.
With the kind of timing Chandni cherished, a servant arrived to inform her that the Bringers of Endless Order were ready for them. They walked the corridors in silence. She kept close to Satyendra, alert for any trouble, and four of Yadavendra’s hunters joined their escort, to create a moving cage around them. She wondered if she would see the Bringers herself when they got to the rebirth chamber and hoped not. Mystery and rumour surrounded them. It was said that they could see into a person’s soul. It was said that even the Deathless feared them, and that they could curse with a word, kill with a look, and that any who died that way would be born again in the Wild as something monstrous.
She thought about the hidden feather sprouting from the back of her head and wondered what the Bringers would make of it, and shivered. Though the day may come when she would have to face justice for her crimes, she was determined it would be Lord Rochant that dealt it, not them. Anyone but them.
Satyendra was watching her from the corner of his eye, though he was quick to look away when she turned her head in his direction. He noticed me shiver, perhaps even read something in my face. Of course he did. He doesn’t miss a thing.
A last set of stairs, a turn, then another, and she could hear High Lord Yadavendra’s voice, a constant stream of words, like a brook, babbling endlessly. She forced herself to admit that she didn’t really like the man, worse, she didn’t respect him. All these years later, it was hard to forget the image of him lying prone on the floor, the broken pieces of Nidra Un-Sapphire’s Godpiece at his feet. How could a house built on discipline and dignity have such a man at its head?
Yes, she was afraid of him, disturbed by him, but it was love of Lord Rochant and the house that kept her loyalty. To save House Sapphire, restore it, that was worth sacrificing herself and her son for. With a start, she admitted to herself that one of the things it needed saving from was Yadavendra and the kind of people he had surrounded himself with.
But what if Lord Rochant was unable to help? He had failed to save Nidra Un-Sapphire’s people from Yadavendra’s wrath, and Chandni was sure many of them were innocent. He had failed to save her Godpiece too, failed to save their High Lord from his own madness. In the end, would Satyendra’s sacrifice actually count for anything?
She forced herself to calm down. It was natural to have doubts at the point of no return. She would crush those doubts and be sure to let none of her inner conflict show. I must be strong for Satyendra, she reminded herself.
One more turn would bring them to the Rebirthing Chamber, where the Bringers and the High Lord were waiting. Chandni had the absurd impulse to stop and run in the opposite direction and she wondered if Satyendra was feeling the same.
This is my last chance to speak to my son. She turned to look at him but he did not meet her eye, his attention fixed on the opposite wall. It occurred to her that she should take the opportunity, that she would look back on this time with regret if she kept her silence, but could not think of anything to say. Normally, one would praise the Honoured Vessel, citing their courage and how they were honouring the house. To listen to the Story-singers speak of it, it was as much a celebration as a goodbye. But even Ban would struggle to make Satyendra’s recent antics sound heroic. She could hardly praise his attempts to escap
e his duty, nor his outbursts of rage.
Anything I say would be a lie and we’d both know it.
They turned the corner to come face to face with Yadavendra and his lead hunter, Zax. Behind them, garbed in black and white robes, were the Bringers of Endless Order. As always, seven of them were present.
Yadavendra was still in his armour. This probably shouldn’t have surprised Chandni, but it did. She’d assumed he’d have dressed traditionally for the ceremony and wondered what the Bringers thought of it. The High Lords stood above all, but even they had good reason to fear those that presided over the soul’s journey and ultimately decided which were suitable to return to the world and which were not.
‘He is here,’ declared Yadavendra, somewhat needlessly, Chandni thought. He stepped towards them and lowered his voice to add, ‘I trust there was no trouble?’
The hunters escorting them shook their heads, and Chandni did the same.
‘This pleases me.’ He beckoned for Satyendra to approach. ‘Let me see you.’
Satyendra did not say anything and there was an awkward pause.
‘I see he is already focused on the task ahead,’ added Yadavendra. ‘Good.’ He reached out a hand towards her son’s shoulder and Chandni was uncomfortably reminded of the last time the High Lord had been close to her. ‘This will be a great day for you, your family, and our house.’
‘Don’t touch me,’ said Satyendra.
The hunters’ eyes widened, their hands tightening on their weapons.
Yadavendra’s hand paused mid-air.
Even the Bringers broke off their private deliberations to look over.
Outwardly, Chandni maintained an appearance of calm. Pretend everything is fine. Don’t give him a reason to be angry. Think, Chandni! Say something before someone else does.
‘Don’t,’ said Satyendra a second time, glaring up at the High Lord with barely concealed malice.
The moment stretched out, Yadavendra’s gauntleted hand hovering in the air above Satyendra. To touch her son now would appear wrong, and yet to lower his hand, to not follow the gesture through to completion, would seem like weakness.