Sacrifice (Catalyst Moon #5), page 11
“Please enlighten us on the joke, Mage Halcyon,” Argent said.
“You had to be there,” Kali replied.
Two other figures stood in the doorway: a man built like a mountain, and a smaller, reedy-looking person whose gender she could not immediately distinguish. The smaller individual tilted their head as they studied Kali like she was a specimen in a jar. The first, the larger fellow, gave his own small snort of amusement.
The woman exhaled. “This is the fearsome Mage Halcyon?”
“It is, Serla Etia.” Argent moved closer to Kali and she tensed, her heart suddenly in her throat, her eyes fixed on the gleaming sword at his hip. But he only bent to pull her upright using her bound hands, then turned her shoulders so that she faced Etia and the other two in the doorway.
“Identify yourself, Mage,” Argent said. “Be respectful, for you address the holiest ones in the land.”
“You’re the Pillars?” Kali replied, with significantly less respect than Argent probably wanted. “I thought you’d be better dressed. Though I suppose I’m not one to talk.”
Etia grasped Kali’s chin in her talon-like hands and stared into Kali’s eyes. The dim light cast the Pillar’s eyes a muddy gold. At once, Kali felt the Fata’s incursion into her mind again: a plucking of threads, a sensation of something other climbing into her brain, mental fingers outstretched, probing, searching. Kali tried to wrench away, but Etia’s grip was strong and Argent was as unyielding as the cell walls. Kali’s heart pummeled against her ribs and her memory flew back to Parsa, to a blade at her throat and burning starlight eyes on all sides, focused on her. She tried to fight, tried to push back against the Pillar’s relentless grip, but her efforts failed. Etia dove into her mind and memory; Kali felt the other woman’s regard sharpen then wane in the same breath.
Etia released Kali, making the mage gasp in relief at the broken contact. “As I suspected, the mage is of no use to me,” Etia said as Kali sagged in Argent’s grip. “It’s weak. Broken. Your sentinels have spoiled it.”
“They were not to assault her,” the large man said from the doorway, glaring at Argent.
“They did not, serla,” Argent said, tugging Kali upright. “It seems the mage is still…out of sorts from her actions at Stonehaven.”
Etia turned for the door. “This one is no threat. Besides, its leech abilities can be replicated. Do with it what you will.”
The reedy Pillar glanced between Etia and Kali, and said, “Don’t harm her, Argent. Send her to the bastion, with the others.”
“She’s escaped from one bastion, serla,” Argent replied. “I hesitate to give her a chance to do so again.”
“Then cut off the head and throw the body into the great river below our feet, in the veins of the earth,” Etia snapped. “This creature is useless to us. Besides, you have preparations to make.”
Argent’s grip tensed.
Kali frowned. What did that mean?
The larger Pillar stepped forward into the cell, filling the small space even more. Light from the corridor caught on his belt, revealing a trio of embroidered skulls. “Hold,” he said to Argent. “I would examine her.”
“Your fascination with mages will be your undoing, Baat,” Etia said to him.
Baat ignored her and went to Kali, studying her with the same intensity as Etia. Instinct made Kali shrink away, but the cold press of Argent’s armor against her back reminded her she had nowhere to run. She lifted her chin and met Baat’s almost-gold eyes – a mockery of Stonewall’s. Along with the wave of grief that slammed into her at the thought of Stonewall, Talon’s words came back: Now is the time for strength.
So Kali mustered what strength she could and braced for the inevitable intrusion into her mind. If she had to fight, she had no hope of defeating him or any of the Pillars, but she would not accept her fate without resistance.
But there was no attack, nor incursion, only a light brush of his awareness to hers, like how she and Stonewall used to reach for each other across their thread of connection. Given that Etia had done much the same to her, this must be how the Fata communicated with one another, or with those who had access to some of their strange magic.
Kali studied the Pillar, Baat, and he did so to her. No doubt he could easily crush her beneath his palms, but he only regarded her with calm, if intense, interest. Then she felt his voice in her mind, the words taking shape as if formed by her own thoughts. You’re not afraid of me, are you?
Kali did not reply.
Baat smiled. Don’t worry. While Etia and Sarkiss can feel your heart, they cannot hear our conversation, so speak your mind.
Trying to set me at ease before you cut my throat? Kali shot back. Save us both the time and just sodding kill me already.
Baat’s chuckle rumbled through Kali’s body like an echoing drumbeat. That may still come to pass. But I would show you another path, if you’ll allow me.
I can’t very well stop you.
True, he admitted. But the process would be easier if we were in accord.
She tried to look away from his unyielding gaze, but could not. So she tightened her hands into fists. I’m not here to make your life easier.
Why else would I have tasked my sentinels with bringing you here?
This caught her attention – and her breath. You created those thralls from the Stonehaven sentinels? You made them attack everyone?
I responded to a threat to Aredia’s stability, he replied.
Memories of that final, horrible battle at the Stonehaven hematite mine made Kali’s stomach churn. Those thralls had killed her mother, had killed Stonewall… They’d died defending Kali, and now their deaths meant nothing.
When she did not reply, he added, I know what you are, what you are capable of. May I show you a possible future – for us both?
Kali frowned. This was a trick, no doubt, but she could not dissuade her curiosity. Is my magic that desirable?
Your magic is filled with potential, he replied. But you can’t control it – or yourself. Stonehaven is proof of that.
Lead filled her stomach and pressed against her ribs, trying to crush her heart. She couldn’t form a reply.
Baat had not blinked once during his regard. You have a gift, Kalinda. A power unlike any I have encountered in my considerable lifetime. Your power—your gift—must be cultivated, nurtured. I can help you. In turn, you can help me.
My gift, Kali clenched her jaw, only brings death.
Only if you let it. He seemed to hesitate, then his awareness brushed hers again, tentative, questioning. Kali recoiled, but he did not press her. Instead, images and feelings began to trickle into her consciousness, like distant music or a flash of something in the corner of her eye.
Beneath her feet, the ground was still cool stone, but everything else changed. The cell walls faded into shadows, which then deepened to the blackest black. Stars burned within the inky void; more stars than Kali had ever seen, more stars than could possibly exist. But they only meagerly claimed her attention. Before her, a vast sphere rested in the void. Shades of blue and green and brown marbled its surface, along with white feathered swirls that reminded her of…
“Clouds?” she whispered.
Indeed, Baat said. How clever of you to recognize your world from this vantage point.
“My world…?” Kali tried to blink, but could not tear her gaze away from the marbled sphere. “This is…Aredia?”
Yes. Or, more accurately, this is Aredia’s home. An island paradise in an endless sea of stars.
Upon further inspection, the familiar continent sloped along one side of the sphere; if she squinted, she could make out a jagged gray swath that she took for the Argus mountains. Pale blue, almost turquoise draped the sphere where the seas clung to the coastline. The color deepened to sapphire farther out, stretching across the world, to…was that another continent? No book or map that Kali had ever seen had mentioned another continent, but there it was: a broad stretch of browns and greens, what must be thousands of leagues across the sea from Aredia and its neighbor, Zheem.
There was so much about their world she didn’t know, so much no one apparently knew. Head spinning, Kali tried to step forward to look closer, but her nose bumped something solid. A transparent wall of some kind stood between her and the blue sphere. Frowning, Kali managed to look away from the world long enough to take in her surroundings. She stood in a vast room, reminiscent of the cell because it was so sparse, but surely this was no prison. The walls and floor were smooth, like glass, but opaque and solid. A chill hung in the air, along with a scent that reminded her of the moment just before a lightning strike.
She could not see Baat but felt his presence in her mind. “Where have you taken me?” she asked.
Nowhere, he replied in a silky voice. I only show you a memory of what was, and give a promise of what could be, if you accept my offer.
Kali reached a trembling hand to the strange transparent wall before her, and her breath fogged the glass as she splayed her fingers against the cool surface. “You said a memory. Whose, and of what?”
A memory of the starborn: the human settlers who came to our world.
A thousand questions grappled each other in Kali’s mind. At last she managed, “How do you have their memories? And how are you able to share them with me?”
His quiet laugh echoed in her mind and sent a chill through each nerve. Join me, and you will learn the answers you seek.
Kali stared at the world before her, soaking in the image – and the possibilities.
Let us work together, Baat said again. His presence in her mind sharpened with eagerness, just for a moment revealing how dearly he wanted whatever she had to offer.
Just a moment, but it was enough. Kali turned her back on the image before her. Beautiful as it was, this was a false vision, or a waking dream. This was Baat’s attempt to coerce her into cooperation, no doubt for some nefarious end. He was a Pillar, a Fata; he was the enemy and could not be trusted. She tried to shove him out of her mind but could not summon the eagerness to return to the dark little cell.
I know this is all very strange, Baat said. But you have nothing to fear from me.
The worst part was how badly Kali wanted to believe him. Your assurances are meaningless, she replied, more tears stinging her eyes. I only make things worse.
You do now, came his steady reply. But it doesn’t have to be that way. You have done good, Kalinda. You can do more. I know you can. We can do more – together. You and I…we will reshape the world.
He sounded so certain, and much too calm for a villain. She fought back her own desperation to trust his beautiful, silky words. How? she asked.
More images flickered through her mind: the great shadow in the sky, the ship that had originally frightened the Fata even as it somehow brought humans to this world; another gathering of people, dressed strangely, speaking to tall, stately beings, some with spiraling horns, all with eyes that burned like stars.
Our different societies originally met in peace, Baat said. I would have us return to those ways. But there are some of my kind who wish only for the starborns’ destruction.
Some of the Fata broke apart from the others, dissipating into shadows that slithered toward the strangely-dressed humans. The void crept up each person, clinging to their skin despite how they tried to claw it away, screaming. Terror filled Kali’s heart and she struggled in Argent’s grip again. Those whom the void consumed looked back at Kali with those burning-starlight eyes, their humanity gone.
Those of my kind, the younger ones, the rebels, wish you all purged from this world, Baat said. But I see another way. Will you not help me to save what we both love?
Kali was still. Her heart didn’t race and her breath came steady. Some of his words were true; she’d learned that much on her own. But the rest… If she had access to the Pillar’s power, she could accomplish so much – and no one could stop her. And if done under the aegis of one of the holiest folks in Aredia, no one would want to stop her.
If I joined you, could I… She could barely form the desire, let alone share it with him. Could I free the mages?
I would expect no less, he replied easily. Too easily? No matter what Etia believes, mages serve no purpose locked behind bastion walls. I would be glad to see them set loose upon the world. And with one of their own as a leader, they could find a way to use their magic for the benefit of all starborn.
Yes, and perhaps in doing so, Kali could also release the sentinels from their deadly oaths, maybe even bring them the gifts of reading and writing, and eventually even bring those gifts to all who wished to learn. Not just knowledge would come; magic, freed of its hematite prison, could reshape the world. Crops would thrive. Sickness and disease would be myths.
But these wishes, as wonderful as they were, could not shake her memories of Fata-created thralls, of blood and fear. Nor could these hopes erase her memories of the waters that crept up her legs and stole Stonewall away, of the lives she had taken in her desire to heal. Power without boundaries was its own kind of prison.
Even if Kali could trust Baat, she could not trust herself.
So she pulled back her awareness from Baat’s. You’re on your own.
Incredulity spiked from his mind, but his reply was calm. Think on it, Kalinda. We will speak again.
And he was gone.
Kali blinked into the light from the corridor, where the Pillars were retreating. Even if what Baat had said was true and they could not have overheard the strange conversation, they had still stood by, watching. She risked a glance at Argent, but he was looking at the Pillars too, a thoughtful expression on his face. His grip tightened on her arm before he released her, sending her stumbling to the stone floor as he stalked for the exit. The door closed and darkness flung itself over Kali, and she was alone once more.
She leaned her head against the wall, trying to wrestle her spinning thoughts into submission. Relief should have been the whole of her heart, but all she could think was, I’ve failed again.
TEN
The Shadowland’s true form had vanished, leaving Stonewall alone in his father’s kitchen again. The scent of the jessamin blossoms still hung sweet in the air, along with the warm, rich scent of baking bread. Jolted from his reverie, Stonewall rushed outside to the oven, grabbed a thick cloth, and pulled out a tray with twelve perfect sweetrolls. He did not wonder how they’d even gotten in the oven; no doubt his father’s doing.
All his life, he’d believed Tor was a god, not something from a glimmer story. And while he wanted to believe that none of this was real, he could feel the truth resonating in every bone. Tor was real, a Fata, and his father.
Everything he’d believed his whole life was a lie.
Stonewall went inside to the pantry, ignoring the jelly-like feeling in his legs as he gathered ingredients for the icing. As he mixed the sugar and butter in a large bowl, he tried to focus on what his senses revealed: the weight of the heavy ceramic; the sweetness rising from stray puffs of sugar-scented air; the distant but constant susurrus of ocean waves. But he could take no pleasure in any of the fabricated sensations.
Hands trembling, Stonewall set the bowl aside and leaned against the table, his breath coming short.
Kali, he thought, searching in vain for the thread that had once bound them. Kali, I need you.
Where was she? How was she coping with what she’d done, and with what he’d not?
He had to get back to her, to Drake, to everyone he loved.
Which meant it was time to put his Fata abilities to good use.
A knock at the door made him jerk upright, heart pounding. “Who’s there?”
“We wish to speak with you,” came the reply, neither a man’s voice, nor a woman’s.
Stonewall glanced around and snatched up a wicked-looking carving knife, which he carefully tucked behind his back before going for the door. Perhaps the weapon would do no good in the Shadowlands, but he felt stronger with a blade in hand. He stood beside the door and said, “How many of you are there?”
A pause. “We are here alone.”
That…made no sense. Stonewall frowned. “Who are you?”
Silence. “Allow us entry, and we shall explain.”
“Do you really need me to open the door? If you’re here, then you’re Fata, aren’t you?”
The speaker’s voice held a note of amusement. “We are abiding by your customs as a gesture of goodwill, Starborn. But if you prefer…”
A single human figure materialized beside him and Stonewall swore and brandished the knife. Though Stonewall could not identify the figure’s gender, he thought perhaps she was a woman, at least in form, though why, he could not say. She was taller than him with skin the color of dark umber, and her scalp was clean, devoid of both hair and horns. Her eyes, though… Her eyes burned like stars, and it was this that made Stonewall dart away from the thrall and slide into a combative stance.
“Get away from me,” he snarled.
The thrall tilted her head and regarded him. “Is this truly how your kind welcome visitors?”
“Come closer, and I’ll show you.” Stonewall peered around her, trying to see out the door. “Where are your friends?”
To his surprise, the thrall held up both hands. “As we have said, Starborn, we have come alone and we mean you no harm. We only wish to talk.”
If this was a thrall, it was one unlike any Stonewall had seen. She could speak, she did not seem intent upon murdering him, and… Without dropping his gaze, Stonewall reached out with his senses, searching for the creature’s emotions as he’d been able to do with Kali. He found his visitor: a mixture of anxiety, curiosity, and a deep, old anger that was not entirely centered upon him, though he bore some of it. The connection lasted only an instant before it snuffed out, and he knew without knowing how that the Fata had cut the link.
But even the brief connection was enough. Stonewall had sensed no blinding fury, no desperate drive to destroy, so he relaxed. A little. He tucked the knife back into his belt and gestured to one of the seats at the table. “Fine. Have a seat and we’ll talk.”
