Witch King, page 26
Kai said, “At least someone’s getting out alive.” Across the bridge and back inside, the corridor turned into a gallery along a series of small garden courts, each one luxuriant with flowering plants, very different from the untended gardens in the Hostage Courts. A flicker of images from Talamines’ memory said they were getting closer. “You could leave, too.” With Ziede’s power, it would be easy for her to float down to the floor of the open corridor and join the mortals moving toward freedom.
“And do what, sail back to Khalin to sit alone in the empty burned-out shell of my cloister?” Ziede threw him a grim glance. “Why don’t you go?”
Kai felt a surge of bitterness so intense it nearly choked him. “Where? Even if there’s any Saredi clans left, they won’t take me in like this. I’m not Enna anymore.”
“Does the body you’re in matter so much? You’re still a demon.” Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I won’t ask again.”
It mattered. All the mortals in Kentdessa who might have accepted him anyway were dead. Or at least—and this thought was like a shard of rock in his heart—he would never know if they would have rejected him the way the demons had.
The next turn took them through a gallery that ran along a small court of tall fir trees. Kai didn’t hear any fighting, but something in Talamines’ memory sparked, and he said, “Wait, we’re close. We can cut through here.”
There were no stairs. Ziede swung over the balustrade and floated down. Kai climbed the nearest pillar, finding handholds in between the rough stone blocks. He was cautious about dropping the last few paces, not sure of this new body yet. But Talamines had been young and strong, and Kai still seemed to have the demonic properties that had protected Enna’s flesh, at least if his resistance to Arn-Nefa’s attack was anything to go by.
They made their way through the potted trees toward an archway. Kai nearly jumped out of his skin when a figure stepped into view, and Ziede’s hands snapped up reflexively.
It was an Arike soldier, and fortunately Ziede caught herself before the summoned air spirit did anything more than ruffle the woman’s ringleted hair. “This way,” the soldier whispered in accented Imperial. “Just through there.”
Kai heard voices, whispers, and the shuffle of movement. They followed the soldier’s directions across the corridor and into a wide high-ceilinged room, crowded with Arike soldiers and other mortals. Kai saw Salatel first, then realized she stood next to Bashasa, who was studying a map. As if he had sensed their entrance, Bashasa looked up and met his gaze with startled delight. “There you are!” he said, managing to keep his voice low. The whole crowd turned to stare at them and Kai’s hackles went up. But Bashasa said, “Quick, quick, come here! You have a plan?”
The soldiers parted for them, Salatel elbowing a mortal who didn’t step aside quickly enough. Kai followed Ziede, suddenly uncertain. Every eye in the room seemed to be on him, the demon in the stolen mortal body. He was the same height as Bashasa now, which just reminded him how much had changed. Ziede said, “Salatel told you we think we know where the Hierarch is?”
“Yes.” Waving the map, Bashasa turned to point. Past three broad archways, the bulk of the Arike soldiers and other armed mortals gathered in front of a large set of barred doors. “If we’re reading this right, the court on the other side of that wall is the one from your vision. It’s called the Sanctuary Court. The room where we think the Hierarch is hiding is on the level just above the gallery, on the far side.”
Kai thought Bashasa was optimistic with that choice of the word hiding rather than waiting. He asked, “Do you know why they haven’t overrun you yet?”
“It’s clear that they’re waiting for their second garrison to come through here.” Bashasa pointed at the map again. “We’ve sealed those doors off too, of course, but with our forces split”—he shrugged—“we won’t last much longer.”
Kai wondered if the mortals found Bashasa’s ability to not sound particularly concerned about anything to be terrifying rather than reassuring. They all seemed very dubious. One said, “You believe this can work?” They were a large figure, with very dark skin and long heavy braids, dressed in rich blue-green robes over a silver-gray caftan painted with cranes and other waterbirds, now liberally dotted with blood.
Bashasa waved a hand and introduced them. “This is Tescai-lin, Light of the Hundred Coronels of Enalin.” As an afterthought, he indicated the two other Arike in brocaded coats standing nearby. “Oh, and that is Hiranan, First Daughter of the Prince-heir of Seidel-arik, and Vrim, Second Son of the Prince-heir of Descar-arik.” Hiranan was an older woman, her expression grim, leaning on a carved and polished crutch. Vrim was Bashasa’s age and seemed skeptical.
Tescai-lin still watched Kai, and he realized they had actually meant the “you believe this can work” question for him. He said, “I can do some damage, slow them down, give more people time to leave.”
Bashasa clapped Kai on the shoulder. Some of the other mortals flinched and stared, though Tescai-Lin just looked thoughtful. Bashasa said, “It’s the best we can hope for!”
Kai just wanted to get this over with. He pulled off the coat Bashasa had loaned him and handed it to Salatel, leaving him in Talamines’ black tunic and skirt. “How do I get to the Sanctuary Court from here?”
Behind him a familiar voice said, “I’ll take you.”
Kai turned. It was Tahren.
“Still alive, I see,” Ziede said. It was probably meant to be a joke but something about it didn’t hit right. Ziede sounded too relieved to be cynical.
Tahren just lifted a brow, then said to Kai, “You got taller.”
Kai was eye level with Tahren’s chin. He said, “I know, I’m not sure how it happened,” and thought, Speaking of jokes that aren’t funny. “Let’s go.”
As he started to turn away, Bashasa stopped him with a hand on his arm. Now his brow was creased with worry. “Fourth Prince.” He hesitated, and Kai wondered what he was going to say. No one was expecting Kai to be successful, including Kai. No one was expecting to survive this battle. The Saredi had never been much for speaking empty platitudes, like some of the lesser borderlander leaders. Then Bashasa squeezed his arm and said, “Make them pay for it.”
The surge of emotion caught Kai by surprise. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling. This was the whole point, wasn’t it, to make the Hierarchs pay for what they had taken. To hurt them on the way down, so someone would know it wasn’t impossible. He just said, “They’ll pay,” and followed Tahren.
* * *
Tahren led them back through the fir tree court and up and around via an unobtrusive stairwell. The door had been barred and a young Arike soldier left to guard it, which was a prudent precaution, since the legionaries obviously knew exactly where Bashasa’s forces had gathered. “You don’t have to come,” Kai told Ziede, as they climbed the narrow stairs. He had realized she hadn’t followed just to say goodbye away from the watching mortals. “I’ll have to go in alone anyway.”
“I may be able to do something…” She didn’t finish that sentence, which was probably going to end: if this doesn’t work at all and they kill you before you get near the Hierarch. She asked Tahren, “Do you know if your brother got out?”
Tahren was in front, her back a straight line of tension. “One of Bashasa’s soldiers said Dahin and the others left for the nearest way out as planned.” Kai thought that would be it; Tahren was not exactly a talker. Then she added, “I don’t know if the city is any safer than the palace.”
Ziede said, “So many people have fled already. They’ll have crowds to conceal themselves in, and no one will be thinking about anything except getting away. Bashasa’s people will know what to do.” She added wryly, “They must be quick-thinking and competent if they’ve lasted this long with him.”
Kai thought of Salatel, taking her orders to become the personal guard of a demon apparently without protest. He said, “And they’re loyal.”
He didn’t think Tahren would respond, but she glanced briefly back with a small smile. She didn’t seem much reassured, but maybe she appreciated the effort.
Tahren paused at the top of the stair and listened. Kai could hear distant movement, quiet voices. Then Tahren led them across a corridor and through a little maze of empty rooms, past doorways where Kai glimpsed marble floors and hangings of heavy, richly colored fabrics. The decor would be better suited to a cooler, dryer climate, like the high-altitude holds in the eastern borderlander mountains. The dampness in this air probably ruined the fabric, but everyone here seemed to be too rich to care. He knew where in the Halls they were now, from the map if not Talamines’ memories. They were circumventing the area around the court Bashasa had pointed out to come at it from another direction. The voices of what must be legionaries were getting louder as they drew closer. He stopped Tahren and said, “I can find it from here.”
Tahren’s expression was grim, but she pointed to her own eyes and said, “Don’t forget.”
Kai pulled out Talamines’ black veil and tried to put it on. Ziede stepped up, took it and adjusted it, so it hung over the upper part of his face without interfering with the pins in his hair. Finished, she stepped back and let her breath out. “I’d tell you to be careful, but…”
Kai looked at her through the black film of the veil. “You could say ‘be violent’ instead.”
Tahren, who Kai was beginning to suspect had a very dry sense of humor, patted his shoulder and said, “Be violent.”
* * *
Following Talamines’ sparks of recognition, Kai found his way to the entrance of a broad corridor. As soon as he stepped into it, he saw a cluster of legionaries guarding a heavy gold-chased door at the end. He squelched the impulse to flinch and duck back through the door, managed not to self-consciously adjust his veil again, and made himself walk deliberately toward them.
The wall behind the legionaries was more heavily built, the blocks larger and more weathered than those in the other passages and rooms Kai had just navigated. He had known he was getting closer when he passed a broad ramp that led down a level and heard the murmur and movement of a large number of people, probably legionaries and loyal Hierarch followers waiting for the orders to break down the barred doors and overrun Bashasa’s rebels.
The legionaries ahead were all taller than Talamines, their shoulders broad under their fine leather and sculpted metal armor. They all had pale skin and light eyes, like the islanders from the far south who had traded with the Erathi sometimes. As Kai approached, no one shouted or ran forward to attack him. But since he was walking toward them like a fool, maybe they were lazily waiting for him to get within range.
But when he stopped, easily within short spear–reach, the one with the officer’s tail made a formal salute and said, “Expositor, this way.” Another opened the left side of the heavy door for him. When he passed through, the left slipped after him, moving ahead to lead the way.
Kai’s jumping nerves made his skin tingle as the corridor opened into a gallery along an open court. A partial glass roof stretched over it, and a strong scent of green plants and dampness rode the breeze. It sparked what was left of Talamines’ memory again, and Kai knew the archway they were moving toward led to the Hierarchs’ private quarters, the most heavily guarded sanctum of the huge rambling Summer Halls.
There were legionaries everywhere. Kai found himself dropping his gaze to the floor again. There were no stray weeds growing between these polished paving stones. The water intention burned cold in his chest.
They passed through another cluster of legionaries, another guarded door at the end of the gallery, and then another. The floor was made of marble slabs now, white mottled with red streaks. They walked between long narrow pools, shallow and clear. Too shallow for the intention, Kai thought. The idea was to flood this court and distract and delay the legionaries; he didn’t want to dramatically sacrifice himself only to do nothing more than make the floors wet.
The air was still damp but cooler, tinged with a scent that was clean and sweet. He managed to drag his eyes up enough to see legionaries stationed along the walls. Square columns were sheathed in gold plates and etched with figures picked out in red and black enamel. It was rich and strange and different from anything else he had seen in this place. Maybe this was the way the Hierarchs lived in their homeland, wherever that was.
Kai’s life had been hanging from a thread since he had been captured, and it seemed inevitable that he was going to be ripped out of his body and set adrift in the mortal world. He probably deserved it, for stealing Talamines’ body, expositor or not. He tried to stop thinking about it, focus instead on the faint breeze from ahead, the scent of stone and water and flower perfume.
They passed through an archway and Kai stopped when his guide did. The veil obscured much of his vision and he couldn’t risk a look around. He had a sense of a large space, sound echoing off a high ceiling, and the lap of water that sounded promisingly deeper than the shallow pools in the corridor.
The people here were speaking softly, pausing to stare at Kai. The legionary who had led him in was making some kind of bow and Kai realized he had no idea how expositors greeted Hierarchs. Pure panic jolted through his brain and he almost grabbed for the water intention.
But that jolt must have stirred Talamines’ memory because he found his body bending from the waist, his hands coming up cupped together as if offering something, then he straightened up and forced himself to lift his head.
With the veil he still couldn’t take in much of the chamber, just that it was big and curving, with more of the brightly enameled gold on the walls. A breeze and daylight came from somewhere to the right, probably windows high in the wall, open to the court outside. The curved pool took up well over half the room. That should work, if Kai could get to it fast enough.
Barely ten long paces away, the Hierarch sat on a cushioned couch atop a low platform. This one was a small figure dressed in gold robes, with fish-pale skin and long silver-gray hair, and softer features than the one Bashasa had killed in the Temple Halls. Other mortals sat at the Hierarch’s feet or on cushioned stools, all dressed in richly colored coats or robes and jeweled veils. Three of them Talamines’ memory identified as lesser expositors. Like Cantenios, the expositor Kai had killed in the Hostage Courts, before he had any idea how far Bashasa’s suicidal plan was going to take him. Standing beside the platform like a statue was an expositor like Talamines, a still shape in a gold coat and veils, there to be this Hierarch’s focus for the Well.
The tall figure pacing away from the pool was the Hierarch’s Voice Raihankana. Then Kai registered the much smaller person sitting on a pillow on the floor, between two standing legionaries. He didn’t need Talamines’ memories to recognize him; it was Dahin.
Tahren’s young brother had a darkening bruise on one cheek, his light-colored tunic was torn and pulled off one shoulder. His bare toes peeked out under the hem of his pants. He looked frightened, and sick, and very alone.
Raihankana turned and said, “Where have you been, Talamines? We feared you dead.” He wore a long tunic and skirt in a shade darker than bloodred, his coat covered in black brocade. He didn’t wear a veil but a delicate gold diadem held back his dark curling hair.
Kai said, “I was outside the Temple Halls.” Talamines’ voice came out rough and thick. Something felt wrong, and he prodded Talamines’ memory and belatedly added, “Hierarch’s Voice.” Kai had intended to sacrifice himself but sacrificing Dahin was something else. Had the rest of Bashasa’s household been dragged here or had they been killed outside the Summer Halls? Or had Dahin left them to find Tahren?
“What were you—” Raihankana began, then stiffened. His voice changed, taking on a higher register, as he said, “Where is our sibling?”
So when they called Raihankana a Hierarch’s Voice it wasn’t just a ceremonial office. The Hierarch had actually taken control of his body. Kai could feel the power rising in the room. Like a cold draft tinged with the bitter bite of the wind that followed with the Hierarchs’ Well, like a low deep tone on the edge of his hearing, like something pushing on the inside of his eyes. It was a mix of sound and scent and sensation, as if he lacked the right sensory organ to interpret it. To Talamines, it had been all that was left for him, but to Kai it was alien and wrong.
Kai wondered if Hierarchs could inhabit expositors like that, what would happen if this Hierarch tried to control him that way. He decided never finding out was better.
And then Kai had a wonderful, terrible idea. He said, “My master is concealed near the Temple Halls. My master sent me for the Lesser Blessed child.”
Dahin’s head jerked up, new fear in his eyes. There was a startled, speculative murmur among the other courtiers.
Through Raihankana, the Hierarch said, “For what purpose?”
Good question, Kai thought, but fortunately his frantic racing thoughts were just a little ahead of the Hierarch’s. “The Immortal Marshall said she would betray the rebels if her sibling was returned.”
There was confusion and betrayal in Dahin’s gaze now, as if he didn’t think Tahren would do that. Kai had no idea if Tahren would do it or not and didn’t care, as long as the Hierarch believed she would. If they would let him walk out with Dahin, Kai still needed to drop the intention in water. The larger pool in this chamber would be best for causing confusion, but maybe the fountains in the court outside would work after all. It was risky, less effective than what Kai had originally intended to do, but if he could get Dahin out …
One of the mortals said, “It’s unnecessary, Master. Once the Stios garrison arrives, we can trap the rebels between us.”
Had Bashasa planned for that? Kai thought Bashasa hadn’t believed their rebellion would last any longer than the Temple Halls attack, so maybe not.
Another mortal started to say, “But Master, the—”
Raihankana held up a hand and the mortals went silent. He paced slowly toward Kai.
“And do what, sail back to Khalin to sit alone in the empty burned-out shell of my cloister?” Ziede threw him a grim glance. “Why don’t you go?”
Kai felt a surge of bitterness so intense it nearly choked him. “Where? Even if there’s any Saredi clans left, they won’t take me in like this. I’m not Enna anymore.”
“Does the body you’re in matter so much? You’re still a demon.” Then she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I won’t ask again.”
It mattered. All the mortals in Kentdessa who might have accepted him anyway were dead. Or at least—and this thought was like a shard of rock in his heart—he would never know if they would have rejected him the way the demons had.
The next turn took them through a gallery that ran along a small court of tall fir trees. Kai didn’t hear any fighting, but something in Talamines’ memory sparked, and he said, “Wait, we’re close. We can cut through here.”
There were no stairs. Ziede swung over the balustrade and floated down. Kai climbed the nearest pillar, finding handholds in between the rough stone blocks. He was cautious about dropping the last few paces, not sure of this new body yet. But Talamines had been young and strong, and Kai still seemed to have the demonic properties that had protected Enna’s flesh, at least if his resistance to Arn-Nefa’s attack was anything to go by.
They made their way through the potted trees toward an archway. Kai nearly jumped out of his skin when a figure stepped into view, and Ziede’s hands snapped up reflexively.
It was an Arike soldier, and fortunately Ziede caught herself before the summoned air spirit did anything more than ruffle the woman’s ringleted hair. “This way,” the soldier whispered in accented Imperial. “Just through there.”
Kai heard voices, whispers, and the shuffle of movement. They followed the soldier’s directions across the corridor and into a wide high-ceilinged room, crowded with Arike soldiers and other mortals. Kai saw Salatel first, then realized she stood next to Bashasa, who was studying a map. As if he had sensed their entrance, Bashasa looked up and met his gaze with startled delight. “There you are!” he said, managing to keep his voice low. The whole crowd turned to stare at them and Kai’s hackles went up. But Bashasa said, “Quick, quick, come here! You have a plan?”
The soldiers parted for them, Salatel elbowing a mortal who didn’t step aside quickly enough. Kai followed Ziede, suddenly uncertain. Every eye in the room seemed to be on him, the demon in the stolen mortal body. He was the same height as Bashasa now, which just reminded him how much had changed. Ziede said, “Salatel told you we think we know where the Hierarch is?”
“Yes.” Waving the map, Bashasa turned to point. Past three broad archways, the bulk of the Arike soldiers and other armed mortals gathered in front of a large set of barred doors. “If we’re reading this right, the court on the other side of that wall is the one from your vision. It’s called the Sanctuary Court. The room where we think the Hierarch is hiding is on the level just above the gallery, on the far side.”
Kai thought Bashasa was optimistic with that choice of the word hiding rather than waiting. He asked, “Do you know why they haven’t overrun you yet?”
“It’s clear that they’re waiting for their second garrison to come through here.” Bashasa pointed at the map again. “We’ve sealed those doors off too, of course, but with our forces split”—he shrugged—“we won’t last much longer.”
Kai wondered if the mortals found Bashasa’s ability to not sound particularly concerned about anything to be terrifying rather than reassuring. They all seemed very dubious. One said, “You believe this can work?” They were a large figure, with very dark skin and long heavy braids, dressed in rich blue-green robes over a silver-gray caftan painted with cranes and other waterbirds, now liberally dotted with blood.
Bashasa waved a hand and introduced them. “This is Tescai-lin, Light of the Hundred Coronels of Enalin.” As an afterthought, he indicated the two other Arike in brocaded coats standing nearby. “Oh, and that is Hiranan, First Daughter of the Prince-heir of Seidel-arik, and Vrim, Second Son of the Prince-heir of Descar-arik.” Hiranan was an older woman, her expression grim, leaning on a carved and polished crutch. Vrim was Bashasa’s age and seemed skeptical.
Tescai-lin still watched Kai, and he realized they had actually meant the “you believe this can work” question for him. He said, “I can do some damage, slow them down, give more people time to leave.”
Bashasa clapped Kai on the shoulder. Some of the other mortals flinched and stared, though Tescai-Lin just looked thoughtful. Bashasa said, “It’s the best we can hope for!”
Kai just wanted to get this over with. He pulled off the coat Bashasa had loaned him and handed it to Salatel, leaving him in Talamines’ black tunic and skirt. “How do I get to the Sanctuary Court from here?”
Behind him a familiar voice said, “I’ll take you.”
Kai turned. It was Tahren.
“Still alive, I see,” Ziede said. It was probably meant to be a joke but something about it didn’t hit right. Ziede sounded too relieved to be cynical.
Tahren just lifted a brow, then said to Kai, “You got taller.”
Kai was eye level with Tahren’s chin. He said, “I know, I’m not sure how it happened,” and thought, Speaking of jokes that aren’t funny. “Let’s go.”
As he started to turn away, Bashasa stopped him with a hand on his arm. Now his brow was creased with worry. “Fourth Prince.” He hesitated, and Kai wondered what he was going to say. No one was expecting Kai to be successful, including Kai. No one was expecting to survive this battle. The Saredi had never been much for speaking empty platitudes, like some of the lesser borderlander leaders. Then Bashasa squeezed his arm and said, “Make them pay for it.”
The surge of emotion caught Kai by surprise. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling. This was the whole point, wasn’t it, to make the Hierarchs pay for what they had taken. To hurt them on the way down, so someone would know it wasn’t impossible. He just said, “They’ll pay,” and followed Tahren.
* * *
Tahren led them back through the fir tree court and up and around via an unobtrusive stairwell. The door had been barred and a young Arike soldier left to guard it, which was a prudent precaution, since the legionaries obviously knew exactly where Bashasa’s forces had gathered. “You don’t have to come,” Kai told Ziede, as they climbed the narrow stairs. He had realized she hadn’t followed just to say goodbye away from the watching mortals. “I’ll have to go in alone anyway.”
“I may be able to do something…” She didn’t finish that sentence, which was probably going to end: if this doesn’t work at all and they kill you before you get near the Hierarch. She asked Tahren, “Do you know if your brother got out?”
Tahren was in front, her back a straight line of tension. “One of Bashasa’s soldiers said Dahin and the others left for the nearest way out as planned.” Kai thought that would be it; Tahren was not exactly a talker. Then she added, “I don’t know if the city is any safer than the palace.”
Ziede said, “So many people have fled already. They’ll have crowds to conceal themselves in, and no one will be thinking about anything except getting away. Bashasa’s people will know what to do.” She added wryly, “They must be quick-thinking and competent if they’ve lasted this long with him.”
Kai thought of Salatel, taking her orders to become the personal guard of a demon apparently without protest. He said, “And they’re loyal.”
He didn’t think Tahren would respond, but she glanced briefly back with a small smile. She didn’t seem much reassured, but maybe she appreciated the effort.
Tahren paused at the top of the stair and listened. Kai could hear distant movement, quiet voices. Then Tahren led them across a corridor and through a little maze of empty rooms, past doorways where Kai glimpsed marble floors and hangings of heavy, richly colored fabrics. The decor would be better suited to a cooler, dryer climate, like the high-altitude holds in the eastern borderlander mountains. The dampness in this air probably ruined the fabric, but everyone here seemed to be too rich to care. He knew where in the Halls they were now, from the map if not Talamines’ memories. They were circumventing the area around the court Bashasa had pointed out to come at it from another direction. The voices of what must be legionaries were getting louder as they drew closer. He stopped Tahren and said, “I can find it from here.”
Tahren’s expression was grim, but she pointed to her own eyes and said, “Don’t forget.”
Kai pulled out Talamines’ black veil and tried to put it on. Ziede stepped up, took it and adjusted it, so it hung over the upper part of his face without interfering with the pins in his hair. Finished, she stepped back and let her breath out. “I’d tell you to be careful, but…”
Kai looked at her through the black film of the veil. “You could say ‘be violent’ instead.”
Tahren, who Kai was beginning to suspect had a very dry sense of humor, patted his shoulder and said, “Be violent.”
* * *
Following Talamines’ sparks of recognition, Kai found his way to the entrance of a broad corridor. As soon as he stepped into it, he saw a cluster of legionaries guarding a heavy gold-chased door at the end. He squelched the impulse to flinch and duck back through the door, managed not to self-consciously adjust his veil again, and made himself walk deliberately toward them.
The wall behind the legionaries was more heavily built, the blocks larger and more weathered than those in the other passages and rooms Kai had just navigated. He had known he was getting closer when he passed a broad ramp that led down a level and heard the murmur and movement of a large number of people, probably legionaries and loyal Hierarch followers waiting for the orders to break down the barred doors and overrun Bashasa’s rebels.
The legionaries ahead were all taller than Talamines, their shoulders broad under their fine leather and sculpted metal armor. They all had pale skin and light eyes, like the islanders from the far south who had traded with the Erathi sometimes. As Kai approached, no one shouted or ran forward to attack him. But since he was walking toward them like a fool, maybe they were lazily waiting for him to get within range.
But when he stopped, easily within short spear–reach, the one with the officer’s tail made a formal salute and said, “Expositor, this way.” Another opened the left side of the heavy door for him. When he passed through, the left slipped after him, moving ahead to lead the way.
Kai’s jumping nerves made his skin tingle as the corridor opened into a gallery along an open court. A partial glass roof stretched over it, and a strong scent of green plants and dampness rode the breeze. It sparked what was left of Talamines’ memory again, and Kai knew the archway they were moving toward led to the Hierarchs’ private quarters, the most heavily guarded sanctum of the huge rambling Summer Halls.
There were legionaries everywhere. Kai found himself dropping his gaze to the floor again. There were no stray weeds growing between these polished paving stones. The water intention burned cold in his chest.
They passed through another cluster of legionaries, another guarded door at the end of the gallery, and then another. The floor was made of marble slabs now, white mottled with red streaks. They walked between long narrow pools, shallow and clear. Too shallow for the intention, Kai thought. The idea was to flood this court and distract and delay the legionaries; he didn’t want to dramatically sacrifice himself only to do nothing more than make the floors wet.
The air was still damp but cooler, tinged with a scent that was clean and sweet. He managed to drag his eyes up enough to see legionaries stationed along the walls. Square columns were sheathed in gold plates and etched with figures picked out in red and black enamel. It was rich and strange and different from anything else he had seen in this place. Maybe this was the way the Hierarchs lived in their homeland, wherever that was.
Kai’s life had been hanging from a thread since he had been captured, and it seemed inevitable that he was going to be ripped out of his body and set adrift in the mortal world. He probably deserved it, for stealing Talamines’ body, expositor or not. He tried to stop thinking about it, focus instead on the faint breeze from ahead, the scent of stone and water and flower perfume.
They passed through an archway and Kai stopped when his guide did. The veil obscured much of his vision and he couldn’t risk a look around. He had a sense of a large space, sound echoing off a high ceiling, and the lap of water that sounded promisingly deeper than the shallow pools in the corridor.
The people here were speaking softly, pausing to stare at Kai. The legionary who had led him in was making some kind of bow and Kai realized he had no idea how expositors greeted Hierarchs. Pure panic jolted through his brain and he almost grabbed for the water intention.
But that jolt must have stirred Talamines’ memory because he found his body bending from the waist, his hands coming up cupped together as if offering something, then he straightened up and forced himself to lift his head.
With the veil he still couldn’t take in much of the chamber, just that it was big and curving, with more of the brightly enameled gold on the walls. A breeze and daylight came from somewhere to the right, probably windows high in the wall, open to the court outside. The curved pool took up well over half the room. That should work, if Kai could get to it fast enough.
Barely ten long paces away, the Hierarch sat on a cushioned couch atop a low platform. This one was a small figure dressed in gold robes, with fish-pale skin and long silver-gray hair, and softer features than the one Bashasa had killed in the Temple Halls. Other mortals sat at the Hierarch’s feet or on cushioned stools, all dressed in richly colored coats or robes and jeweled veils. Three of them Talamines’ memory identified as lesser expositors. Like Cantenios, the expositor Kai had killed in the Hostage Courts, before he had any idea how far Bashasa’s suicidal plan was going to take him. Standing beside the platform like a statue was an expositor like Talamines, a still shape in a gold coat and veils, there to be this Hierarch’s focus for the Well.
The tall figure pacing away from the pool was the Hierarch’s Voice Raihankana. Then Kai registered the much smaller person sitting on a pillow on the floor, between two standing legionaries. He didn’t need Talamines’ memories to recognize him; it was Dahin.
Tahren’s young brother had a darkening bruise on one cheek, his light-colored tunic was torn and pulled off one shoulder. His bare toes peeked out under the hem of his pants. He looked frightened, and sick, and very alone.
Raihankana turned and said, “Where have you been, Talamines? We feared you dead.” He wore a long tunic and skirt in a shade darker than bloodred, his coat covered in black brocade. He didn’t wear a veil but a delicate gold diadem held back his dark curling hair.
Kai said, “I was outside the Temple Halls.” Talamines’ voice came out rough and thick. Something felt wrong, and he prodded Talamines’ memory and belatedly added, “Hierarch’s Voice.” Kai had intended to sacrifice himself but sacrificing Dahin was something else. Had the rest of Bashasa’s household been dragged here or had they been killed outside the Summer Halls? Or had Dahin left them to find Tahren?
“What were you—” Raihankana began, then stiffened. His voice changed, taking on a higher register, as he said, “Where is our sibling?”
So when they called Raihankana a Hierarch’s Voice it wasn’t just a ceremonial office. The Hierarch had actually taken control of his body. Kai could feel the power rising in the room. Like a cold draft tinged with the bitter bite of the wind that followed with the Hierarchs’ Well, like a low deep tone on the edge of his hearing, like something pushing on the inside of his eyes. It was a mix of sound and scent and sensation, as if he lacked the right sensory organ to interpret it. To Talamines, it had been all that was left for him, but to Kai it was alien and wrong.
Kai wondered if Hierarchs could inhabit expositors like that, what would happen if this Hierarch tried to control him that way. He decided never finding out was better.
And then Kai had a wonderful, terrible idea. He said, “My master is concealed near the Temple Halls. My master sent me for the Lesser Blessed child.”
Dahin’s head jerked up, new fear in his eyes. There was a startled, speculative murmur among the other courtiers.
Through Raihankana, the Hierarch said, “For what purpose?”
Good question, Kai thought, but fortunately his frantic racing thoughts were just a little ahead of the Hierarch’s. “The Immortal Marshall said she would betray the rebels if her sibling was returned.”
There was confusion and betrayal in Dahin’s gaze now, as if he didn’t think Tahren would do that. Kai had no idea if Tahren would do it or not and didn’t care, as long as the Hierarch believed she would. If they would let him walk out with Dahin, Kai still needed to drop the intention in water. The larger pool in this chamber would be best for causing confusion, but maybe the fountains in the court outside would work after all. It was risky, less effective than what Kai had originally intended to do, but if he could get Dahin out …
One of the mortals said, “It’s unnecessary, Master. Once the Stios garrison arrives, we can trap the rebels between us.”
Had Bashasa planned for that? Kai thought Bashasa hadn’t believed their rebellion would last any longer than the Temple Halls attack, so maybe not.
Another mortal started to say, “But Master, the—”
Raihankana held up a hand and the mortals went silent. He paced slowly toward Kai.
