Realm of Ashes

by J. D. L. Rosell

  Reaching the base of the twister, I halted, trying to make sense of the scene before me. Famine was weaker here at the base of his twister, as he rose from another spiraling wind — Vusu, I guessed. Two other winds contended with Vusu, diving into him again and again, each time weakening him a little more. One other held back a small distance. Vaguely I recognized these, but I couldn’t place who they were.

  Then I saw the small, fluttering breeze flowing around Vusu, and I froze, caught between fear and hope. I knew who that tiny squall was.

  Linos!

  I cried out to him, unable to stop myself from drifting forward. I hadn’t known that any part of my brother was still alive. To see him, to know him, brought me more strength and hope than I’d had in a long time.

  LINOS!

  I felt him stir in response, and my hope soared. There were no words to it, no conscious thought. But recognition was enough. My brother was still alive, and some part of him still knew me.

  But he was in danger. His slow squall seemed to depend on Vusu’s winds to continue swirling, and again and again, the two other gales attacked Vusu. Anger surged through me. There were too many unknowns, too much to consider. But I had no time. Linos was in danger.

  Gathering the errant winds of myself and tightening them so that a tempest roared within me, I threw myself toward the melee. I flew faster than I’d dared let myself before, gathering speed and force. The others noticed me as I approached, but couldn’t leave off their fighting.

  Suddenly, the gale that had held back lashed toward me and twisted into me.

  Airene! Eltris’ voice boomed into me, nearly enough to tear me apart. Stop, STOP! Before you ruin us all!

  Her tendrils pulled at me, tilting me from my course. I struggled to shake her loose, but couldn’t manage it.

  Let me go! I snarled, flinging my rage at her.

  She flinched, but didn’t release me. You don't understand what you do!

  How could I? You never told me!

  Inexorably, I pulled her toward Linos and the others. Before, when I’d first strayed into the Pyrthae, Eltris had been able to collapse me into unconsciousness. But either she’d weakened or I’d grown stronger, for now, she couldn’t resist my efforts.

  Release me! I commanded her. Let me go to him! I’ll save my brother!

  Your brother is dead! His spirit is fragmented. He’s gone, Airene! Now you must let him fulfill his purpose. You can’t interfere!

  I pried her consciousness from me one strand at a time. So you’ve plotted with Vusu this whole time! I threw at her. You always meant to kill my brother!

  Her anger stirred and strengthened her, and she clung so tightly that I couldn’t pry her loose. Vusumuzi means to seal away Famine, fool girl! He’s sought to end Famine for decades. As a young man, he foolishly accepted the Quintyr into his being in exchange for power. But since then, he has seen his folly and the ruin Famine would bring if loosed upon the world. He seeks to seal him away forever!

  As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t deny the truth of her words. With our minds intwined, the force of her conviction filled me. It didn’t help that I’d begun to suspect as much since I’d read Nkosi’s book.

  Even as Vusu and my brother were attacked again and again by the two opposing spirits, I knew I had to know. Why destroy Oedija then? Why kill hundreds of innocents? Why mutilate and maim two of my brothers?

  It would take too long for you to understand. You must trust me, Airene. Don’t interfere!

  Rage suddenly flared up in me again. Trust you? You’ve done nothing to earn my trust!

  Summoning all the force of my disdain, I threw Eltris off with a mighty gust. I felt the augur’s surprise just before our connection severed and she was tossed away like a cast-off rag.

  Not wasting a moment, I soared forward. But as I neared the struggling gales, I slowed, then stopped. Vusu seemed to be protecting Linos from the other two. But he’d been too long my enemy to trust his intentions now. Knowing Eltris was just behind, I knew I had to make a choice.

  Diving, I threw myself into the fray.

  I tangled with the winds, fighting and pushing back as they tried to toss me and shred me. But I had only struggled a moment before something like a strong gale swept over me, and the turbulent scene shifted. Suddenly, the sands began to drain away below me, revealing figures caught in a struggle.

  Vusu emerged from the sands first, his arms raised, something slender and white clasped in his hands. He was even thinner than before, so skeletal that it seemed the barest blow must shatter him. He wore the same peplos as the day of the Despoina’s trial, only now the white fabric was soiled and stained with crusted blood. The source of his weakness was plain, the broken bolt still emerging from between his ribs.

  The arms of another man parted from the sand after, holding Vusu’s wrists. Kyros Brighteyed, I recognized him, as his balding head, loose jowls, and glowing eyes came into view. The Archmaster, clad in rich robes and purpling in the face from exertion. Strange as it seemed, the thick man was barely able to match Vusu’s strength, though the traitor looked halfway a skeleton.

  Then the last of the sands parted, revealing a prone figure lying on the bed beneath the uplifted arms of the men. Vusu and Kyros struggled over my brother’s bed as he stared, unseeing, up at them.

  I hovered, entranced with horror, as I watched their struggle. I felt their wills clash, over and over, each weakening, neither breaking. The other presence I’d sensed before was nowhere to be seen, though I sensed it still, searching for an opening in their defenses. Staring down at Linos’ scarred face, I guessed who it must be. The daemon who had seized Linos’ tongue now sought to claim my brother.

  What I had to do crystallized in my mind. I pooled all the hate, the fear, the fury surging inside me and drew on its fire. I’d do whatever I had to, not knowing the cost. I’d save Linos.

  Drawing myself away, sand flooded the scene again, all three swallowed within them. Back in the Pyrthae, I searched the ruins of Oedija. Eltris still hovered above, watching, waiting. But it wasn’t her I was looking for. Just above me, staying at the perimeters of the whipping winds of Famine’s sandstorm, lingered the swirling sand of Linos’ daemon.

  Anger pulsing through me, I threw myself after it.

  Sensing its danger, the pyr fled into the ruined buildings. I pursued, speeding far faster than I could have run, faster than a diving hawk. But as the buildings opened into a desolate forum, the daemon was nowhere to be seen.

  I swore loudly as I looked for it, even knowing it was futile. Here, it was in its element. I’d have to settle that score another time. Turning, I threw myself back toward my brother and the contending wardens.

  Though I felt Eltris’ focus on me, she didn’t try to stop me, perhaps knowing she could no longer match me. I gathered speed and force as I dove toward Vusu and Kyros struggling over my brother. Famine’s fell light pulsed above, as if in delight of the struggle. I didn’t slow, didn’t let myself think of what might happen when I collided. I formed myself into force and fury and threw myself into the fray.

  My aim was true. As I collided, I managed to avoid Linos and Kyros and cut through Vusu’s winds alone, carving through to the center of them. I felt the pain ripping through his awareness as if it were my own, deep and wide enough that I almost lost myself in it. But momentum drove me deeper still, until finally, something gave way. I felt him break.

  Some part of me became aware of Kyros throwing Vusu back against the wall in the real world, Vusu’s head hitting against the stone, his arm flopping out at an unnatural angle. The Visage of the Wyvern didn’t rise, but stirred sluggishly to look down at the item in his hand. The white-wood knife, I suddenly recognized. The one the Seekers had stolen from Kyros, that Eltris had called the sacrificial knife. The same as Aika of the Green had thrust into her own breast.

  Kyros strode around Linos toward the traitor. I watched, unable to look away, eager to see him make an end of my enemy. But I’d lin
gered too long. Suddenly, I felt Vusu seize me. Even broken and dying, his grip was too strong for me to flee. Panicking, I struggled, but still he bore me up. Up into the the storm above.

  As Famine loomed around me, I stilled, like a hare spotted in the open streets. A dark storm of sand and wind walled us in. Above, a ethereal sphere, the source of the strange light, glowed like the sun and pulsed like a beating heart.

  Hunger and hate suddenly burst through me, and I felt myself draining away into the abyss of the daemon god. There seemed no end to his horrible desire. But Vusu still held me.

  You. The word was resonant with bitter irony. Again, it is you who stops me.

  I had too little of myself for speech, my will draining into the ravenous hunger around me.

  Keep hold of yourself, Airene of Port. Listen well. There will be only two Seeds of Famine when I am gone. Only your brother, and you. One of you must become the Sacrifice, then descend stoneward. Only this can contain the Serpent, and only for a time. Do you understand?

  Horror brought me back to myself for a brief moment. No! I cried out, as much in answer as denial.

  I felt his bitter laugh echo through me. You doom us and do not even know how. Seek my honor, Seda. She possesses all that I could tell you. You must do this, Airene, if you wish to stop Famine. I cannot hold him for much longer.

  The sphere of light above pulsed violently, as if something were contained inside and struggled to break free. Dread washed over me anew.

  Go! Vusu commanded me, both weakness and strength in the word. Go, and do what I could not.

  He ripped me free and sent me tumbling away from the tempest. Dazed, I struggled to find myself, my winds scattered about me. Only one thought, stubbornly clung to, forced myself back together. Linos. I had to make sure he was safe.

  Though my awareness strained at the seams of my form, like a skin too full of water, I cobbled my consciousness back together and looked around. Famine’s storm raged stronger still, the wind and sand whipping at me and eroding my strength. Pulling back further, I saw at the base of the storm Vusu’s winds faltering, but still spinning. Linos had begun to spiral wider, free finally of his master. Kyros swirled strong.

  As I dove at them again, the sands parted just in time to see Kyros closing the last of the distance to Vusu, lightning sparking on his fingertips. Vusu glanced up at where I watched, as if he could see me, then raised the wooden knife in his unbroken arm. His body trembled as he positioned the knife above his chest.

  His whisper cut through me. “Famine, I give myself to you as Sacrifice.”

  Then Vusu plunged the dagger into his chest.

  The Pyrthae vibrated for a moment, the tremor rattling me. Then the tempest that had raged above us disappeared without a trace. The orb of unholy light dissipated as well, and the Pyrthae fell into sudden darkness. I was lost in the black, yet I couldn’t move, shock and disbelief rooting me in place.

  Famine was gone, truly gone. I couldn’t feel him at all.

  I roused myself to take stock of the situation. Vusu, too, was gone. Giving himself as Sacrifice had killed him, or taken him somewhere I couldn’t follow. The daemon that had plagued Linos had long since fled. Kyros was melding away as he returned to our world. I felt myself fading as well. Suddenly, all that I’d done caught up with me. I couldn’t even muster the energy to fear for myself.

  But I wasn’t allowed to slip into oblivion. Someone seized me, anger burning me awake.

  Idiot girl! Eltris raged against me. You damned fool! What have you done? You’ve ruined us!

  They’re gone, I thought wearily. Famine and Vusu both.

  You don’t understand! You never will!

  She let me slip through her fingers, and I didn’t resist as I melded with the darkness.

  23

  The Despot of Oedija

  Every man has the chance to remake himself, but few do. To be reforged is to be melted down to the essence of what you are, the impurities burned away, made into something stronger.

  You and I may be reforged again, brother, should we have the daring to seize this moment, and the courage to face the pain of being born again…

  - Tales of the Desolate, uncensored; 1092 SLP

  I woke with a head stuffed full of wool. Blinking through the stars in my vision, I stared around me. A moment later, I recognized where I was. Jaxas’ solar. Yet I had the distinct feeling I’d been somewhere else a moment before.

  Footsteps scuffled behind me. I started, sitting up in the chair I’d been slumped in and groaning with my body’s protests. A pair of familiar beady eyes stared down at me, a look of rebuke plastered on his pinched features. Yet with my head in a fog, I found myself uncertain.

  “Nikias?” I asked tentatively.

  The steward sniffed. “Good, you’re awake. Come. The Despot has summoned you.”

  His words were nonsense to me. The Despot? I searched my memory, hoping to make sense of things. The Claw had burst into flame. Xaron had been in danger.

  And I’d gone to him. I’d entered the Pyrthae. I’d saved him and Talan by channeling quintessence as Clepsammia showed me. I’d felt powerful there, more so with each passing moment.

  But then I remembered the rest. The cavernous hunger permeating me as Vusu held me in the midst of Famine’s storm. I remembered the traitor’s words. There will be only two Seeds of Famine when I am gone. Only your brother, and you.

  Seeds of Famine. Eltris’ despising words after our last lesson came back to me. And you imagine yourself a Finch. There’s only one way you could have become a warden, girl. The suspicion I’d held and dismissed was true. As I sat, numb with the realization, more pieces fell into place. In The Seeds of Famine, Aika of the Green had awoken as a warden after a dream of Famine. A Seed of Harvest, she’d claimed to be. But I suspected now whose Seed she had truly been.

  I slumped down in my seat, all strength leaving my body.

  “First Verifier Airene. Are you listening?”

  I barely heard Nikias through the tempest of my thoughts. What did it mean? What did it mean that Famine had opened me to the Pyrthae? Was I tainted? Were his fate and mine now bound together? Did he even now worm his way into my mind and spirit, hollowing me, turning me to his cause? Linos, too, had been attuned by Famine — I believed Vusu that far. Perhaps I was doomed to become what he had, little more than a scrap of spirit left to me, little more than an empty vessel.

  “Airene!”

  I dragged myself up from my heavy thoughts. “Yes, Nikias. I hear you.”

  Nikias didn’t bother hiding his disapproval. “His Radiance wishes for your presence immediately. If you are not well enough to stand, I shall order you an invalid’s litter.”

  The strangeness of Nikias’ words drew me further from my stupor. His Radiance? Even for the Wreaths, the address went too far, particularly when the Laurel Palace had lost even more power by Council decree. But oddity aside, it was welcome news. It must mean that Komo and First Laurel Synne had succeeded in recovering Despot Myron Wreath. I could only hope Xaron and the Watchers had returned as well. But what had Myron done to earn so much respect upon his return? I turned through the possibilities. There was another explanation: that this all a charade put on by Orhan and the Preservists to disguise their crimes. But I didn’t see why Nikias would comply, unless Jaxas had ordered him to.

  The steward turned from me, a disgusted look on his face. “I will send an honor for a litter then.”

  “Wait — I can stand.” Not sure if actually could, I lifted myself from the chair and turned to face him. Pain didn’t drown me as I’d expected. My ribs still throbbed dully, but it barely hurt to breathe anymore. The back of my head, tender from where the Guilders had struck it against the ground, only smarted. I smiled grimly. My body had healed itself once again, at least partially. But any pleasure I took in it was tainted by the knowledge that it was only by Famine’s gift — or curse — that it was possible.

  My legs still unsteady, I leaned o
n the chair. “Where are we going?”

  Nikias watched me as if he expected me to collapse. “As I said, we go to meet the Despot. He waits before the palace to make a pronouncement to his people.”

  That seemed like Myron at least. He’d always basked in the attention of the people at ceremonies. Though why he would care about me attending him, I hadn’t the slightest clue.

  But I was more interested in other things at the moment. “Nikias, I’m sorry, but I have other places to be. My brother — I must see to him.”

  Displeasure gleamed in his eyes. “You serve at the Despot’s pleasure now, First Verifier Airene. It won’t do to stir his displeasure.”

  His words gave me pause. First Verifier? I served at the Despot’s leisure? Had the Laurel Palace taken up the Order of Verifiers after the Conclave cast us off? There were too many questions, too many things I didn’t know. Much as I wished to check on my brother and friends, I needed to attend to them. Linos wouldn’t be in danger for the moment, now that Vusu had given himself as Sacrifice. And if Xaron, Nomusa, and Talan weren’t safe, there was nothing more I could do.

  Besides, I didn’t think Nikias was giving me a choice.

  My throat dry, I managed to keep my tone light. “By all means, Steward, lead the way.”

  Though sunlight barely pierced the gray of the overcast morning, the crowds had already gathered for Myron’s announcement. As Nikias and I emerged from the Laurel Palace doors, we were assaulted by the tumultuous sound they made, cascading up the hill from below. Even outside the gates a quarter-mile down, the noise was astounding. And the swell of the crowd — there seemed no end to the gathered people. I felt dizzy standing above them all, as if I were the focus of their attention. Fear, too, was part of it. Since I’d seen what the Manifest and dusk mobs were capable of, I didn’t trust crowds. I wondered if this one had gathered merely to greet their returning Despot.