Sin and Sorrow, page 24
The world snapped back five heartbeats, Efra sprinting, too fast to stop. This time her jump was more of an ungainly tumble as she stumbled, eyes going wide with horror as she knew what came next.
Turquoise Fire caught her midjump, crushed her in his fist, and hurled her savaged remains at the nearest wall. She impacted with a gelatinous squelch, flesh and bone crushed to paste.
The Fifth Sun shredded time and reality, ripping the sky wide.
Kofi yelled, “He’ll see it—”
Time retreated from the final moment of ruin.
He’ll see what?
Kunzite, the stone of distraction. She’d seen that before. And hadn’t Kofi said that skystone acted as a booster for other stones, making them more powerful?
Efra screamed as she leapt from the roof, falling toward the god with the obsidian dagger clutched in both hands. Turquoise Fire punched her from the air. Her remains landed a score of strides distant and slid along the street leaving a long streak of gore.
Diamond, Nuru thought, frozen in horror. Kofi is blinding the god. He can’t see through time!
The sky cracked and time fled back five heartbeats and Efra screeched as she tried to stop and fell off the roof.
Fulgurite, he said. Nightmares. Kunzite, the stone of distraction.
Blindness, distraction, and nightmares.
Nuru understood what Kofi had been trying to say: He’ll see it’s an illusion.
Kofi must have planned to use this when Nuru called Mother Death. Instead, when Efra attacked, he panicked and created an illusion. Unfortunately, he’d already used the diamond to blind the Lord of Time to the past more than five heartbeats previous. And so Turquoise Fire reset time five heartbeats back as he sought to escape the fate Kofi showed him.
The Fifth Sun isn’t real.
The god wasn’t tearing the sky open.
The rest was. Efra died, over and over, each time aware of what was to come.
Five heartbeats. Enough to stop the god from going far enough back in time to restart the battle.
Turquoise Fire caught Efra in midair, this time careful not to kill her.
This was it. The illusion only began when he killed her.
The Lord of Time laughed, shaking his head in wonder. The continga nested in his skull settled its ruffled feathers. “Tecolotl; owls and omens It was a fine attempt, but I am time.”
“You missed something,” said Kofi, displaying a facetted oval of magenta kunzite pinched between two fingers. “Distraction.”
Efra, clutched in the god’s hand, drove the sacrificial dagger into his wrist.
AKACHI – GUIDANCE AND STRENGTH
Faith and confidence are one and the same.
—The Book of Bastion
Akachi and Fajah watched the gates to the Bankers’ Ring from a nearby alley. Both the pedestrian and larger wagon gate were open and unguarded. Dejected families shuffled through carrying their meagre belongings. Many limped or helped those too wounded to walk on their own. Makeshift crutches and bandages of torn silk were a common sight.
Carrying her daughter, a nahual of Precious Feather abandoned the bulging suitcase she struggled to haul behind her. Another woman caught the handle and hurried to catch the priest. They exchanged words, too distant to be heard, and the first nodded her exhausted thanks. Together they continued deeper into the ring.
“There are more priests than I expected,” Akachi said. “Everyone appears to be fleeing the inner rings.”
“I’m tempted to join them.” Fajah darted a glance at Akachi. “Joking, of course. Mostly.”
Akachi ignored the attempted humour. “They look like they’ve been through a war.” Had that battle between Precious Feather and Sin Eater already happened? How many gods were left? Five? Six?
Though there were several crude weapons—clubs crafted of tree branches, and a few ebony cudgels—the mob seemed peaceful, subdued.
They’ve seen something that’s taken the fight from them and are trying to escape to safety.
He doubted the outer rings would be much better. Though there were more than enough abandoned tenements for everyone to find somewhere to sleep, there’d be fights over food and water.
“They’re going to have a few unpleasant surprises if they go out to the Crafters’ Ring or beyond,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Fajah asked.
“We’ve been telling the Dirts ‘work or die’ for thousands of years. How do you think they’ll react to pampered Senators and Bankers who’ve never lifted anything heavier than a sandwich?”
“There are sandwiches in the outer ring?” Fajah asked.
Akachi didn’t answer.
“Cookies? Biscuits?”
“By now, there won’t even be the hardbread we used to feed them.”
“Is that like a cracker?”
“More like a compressed brick of grain and wood-dust left too long in the sun.”
The more he thought about it, the worse it looked. “The Bankers have always been jealous of the priests. Now, with many of the gods dead, the nahual have lost political power.”
“Nahualli still have their sorcery.”
“True, but it’s going to become increasingly difficult to find narcotics.”
Fajah flinched at the casual blasphemy but said nothing.
Akachi realized he wasn’t sure where the raw ingredients came from. Presumably they were grown in the outer ring, shipped to the Crafters for drying and the first stages of preparation, and then sent on to the Priests’ Ring. Soon, it might be impossible to replenish his supplies.
“In a few days,” Akachi said, watching the Priests and Bankers file through the open gates, “Bastion will be ruled by a mob of ignorant Dirts. They outnumber everyone else. Except for a few nahual teaching at the creches, they’re the only ones who know how to farm food or care for the animals.”
“It won’t come to that.” Fajah turned to face Akachi, put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll save the city. Bastion has survived worse than this.”
He kept his doubts to himself. “We’d best get moving.”
Akachi led Fajah out into the street and toward the gate. Those fleeing the Bankers’ Ring parted to make way for the two priests, making no attempt to stop them. Some muttered things like, ‘You’re going the wrong way,’ but most shuffled past in silent dejection, lost in their misery.
On the far side of the gate, they found a lumbering mountain of a man in the earthen robes of a nahual of The Provider, though he wore no jaguar skull mask. The priest worked as the Hummingbird Guard once had, keeping the crowd moving and organized. He dissuaded any who might think of pushing through before their turn with a few soft words and by resting his huge hands on their shoulders. No one argued, most apologizing and returning to their place in line. Seeing Akachi and Fajah, he broke off chatting with a family waiting their turn and carefully made his way through the crowd to intercept them.
“Greetings friends.” Loud and deep, his voice was surprisingly gentle.
Remembering he was dressed as a Senator, Akachi bowed to the priest. Fajah, trailing behind, did the same a moment later.
The nahual looked them over, frowning in fatherly concern. “I’d strongly advise turning around.”
“We have family in the ring,” Akachi lied.
“They’ve either left already or…” The big man winced. “Hopefully they’ve left.”
Akachi said, “I have to try.”
Looking past the priest he saw the destruction. Though many blocks away, the nearest Quarter Cathedral was a smoking ruin of shattered stone.
Seeing the direction of his attention the nahual said, “A sorcerer destroyed the cathedral. At least that’s what I heard. I wasn’t there.”
“No one could do that,” argued Fajah, staring in awe at the damage. “That had to be a god.”
“The Lord of the Vanguard came to punish the blasphemers,” the nahual rumbled. “And was himself destroyed. I didn’t believe it. But then—” He stopped to swallow his pain. “My god was slain the next morning in a battle with Turquoise Fire. I thought The Lord of Time was dead.”
“He still has a few priests,” Akachi said.
“Had,” said the big nahual. “A sorcerer killed Turquoise Fire shortly after.”
“The same sorcerer?” Fajah asked.
The big priest shrugged, and tears fell. “All my life I’ve been a nahual of The Provider, a servant to the people of Bastion. What am I now?”
Fajah waved at the crowd winding past them. “These people need your guidance and strength. You should travel with them to the Growers’ Ring.”
“I’ve never been there. Never met a Grower.”
“They’re just people,” Fajah said. “No different from us.”
Akachi decided not to correct her. Everyone fleeing to the outer rings was in for a rude surprise no words could prepare them for.
Eyes narrowing, the nahual looked from Fajah to Akachi. “Those are the worst haircuts I’ve ever seen. You’re not Senators.”
Fajah flashed a crooked grin. “You caught us. We’re nahualli. We’ve come to do what we can to stop any more destruction.”
“Who do you serve?”
“Bastion,” she answered. “In the end, we’re all on the same side.”
“That’s not true; someone is killing our gods.”
“We’re going to stop them,” Akachi promised.
“How? You’re no battle-trained nahualli.” He gestured at Akachi. “You’re too small and weak to be priests of Southern Hummingbird.”
“Father War is dead. His nahual now serve Smoking Mirror. I don’t know what they plan, but you’ll need to deal with them when you reach the outer rings.”
The big nahual tilted his head, studying Akachi, taking in his many wounds and scars. “Cloud Serpent. You’re hunting those who did this.”
Fajah nodded. “We’ll find them. We’ll stop them.”
Looking from Akachi to Fajah the priest said, “Then you’d best hurry. The Provider was slain in the Priests’ Ring. Your quarry are two days ahead of you.”
A thought jolted Akachi. “The gods are warring. They’ve abandoned the Gods’ Ring, probably retreated to their own realms.”
“Then they’re safe?” Fajah asked, confused.
“Yes.” Akachi remembered his plan to litter Smoking Mirror’s heart through the many doors of the Temple of Shei Baal Ba. “No, they’re not. Nuru and Efra are going to the Temple of Shei Baal Ba. From there, they can reach anywhere in any reality. They’ll strike the last gods in their own homes, catching them unprepared and vulnerable.”
Fajah looked thoughtful. “We’re both nagual. Do you have a bird spirit animal?”
“Blood-tailed hawk. But…”
Gau Ehiza had taken control with ease, crushing Akachi into the background. While smaller, the hawk was no less a violent predator. It might not rampage through the city killing people, but it could wander off stalking smaller prey. He might end up hunting mice in the Growers’ Ring.
“You’re worried you can’t control it,” Fajah said. “Because of what happened last time.”
Akachi nodded. “What other spirit animals do you have? Anything that could carry me quickly?”
She looked thoughtful, brow crinkling, and then shook her head. “I have a puma, but it couldn’t carry you that far. You can’t ride me all the way to—” Fajah cut herself off, blushing. Her eyebrows shot up. “Wait! The amaruca! It’s huge and it flies. It could carry you with ease.”
Seeing the big nahual’s confusion, Akachi blurted a quick farewell and pulled Fajah into the crowd.
“That was carved by Tecolotl,” he hissed once they were out of earshot. “It’s forbidden sorcery!”
Walking against the flow of traffic, he shoved through the mob as politely as possible. Were he wearing his red, white and black robes, they would have scattered before him. Or maybe not. Perhaps the days of fearing the nahual were gone. After all, once the population learned the truth, that the gods were dead, why would they follow the priests?
Spotting what looked like an abandoned Baker home, Akachi led Fajah toward it.
Entering the home, she dragged him to a stop. The interior, lit only but what sun made it past the closed shutters, looked long abandoned. Though fully furnished, intricately carved chairs surrounding a huge oak table, thick dust covered everything. At some point, long ago, whoever lived here had simply walked away. Perhaps they’d become indebted or indentured and no one had bothered selling off their possessions. Or maybe they fell to some sickness and the home had been avoided after that.
“I shouldn’t have said anything about the amaruca,” Fajah said. “It slipped out. But running off like that was rude. And dragging me like some little kid, twice as rude.”
“Sorry,” Akachi said. He caught himself about to brush off her anger. When held against the survival of humanity, nothing else mattered. That’s not true. “I…I don’t recognize myself anymore.” He lifted his ruined hand, wiggling the stumps. “I don’t want to be this. I was a good kid. Not the best at anything. Nothing special. But happy. I only ever wanted to help people, to make Bastion a better place for all who live here. Even the Dirts.” He hissed in self-loathing. “I was shocked the first time Captain Yejide called them that. And then they attacked us and threw ox shit at me. They were dirty and they stunk. They ignored the teachings of the Book of Bastion. Because of their ignorance, I was forced to do terrible things just to do my job. I hated them.” He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Now, I hate myself. Every day I wake knowing I’ll have to do something terrible, something that diminishes me.” He laughed, a sick sound of despair and touched the eyepatch with the stumps of his fingers.
“I was just pointing out you didn’t need to be rude,” Fajah said. “We’re in this together and I’ll do what I can to help. But I’m not a tool or a weapon in your arsenal.”
That’s exactly what you are.
With the amaruca carving, she was the most dangerous weapon he had.
He hated himself a little more. “Sorry,” Akachi repeated.
“If the two women are going to the Temple of Shei Baal Ba, we’ve won. The Book of Bastions says all who enter fall to madness.”
“They’re trying to kill the gods who maintain the city,” Akachi said. “How sane can they be?”
“Anyway,” she continued, “there are supposed to be doors to everywhere. They won’t know which to take.”
“Smoking Mirror will guide Efra, and she’ll guide Nuru.”
“Oh,” said Fajah. “Shit.”
“The temple won’t stop them.” He knew he was right. These two Dirts had done the impossible so many times he believed them capable of anything.
Though it might stop us.
He kept the thought to himself. After everything he’d sacrificed, being broken in the Temple of Shei Baal Ba might be a welcome escape.
“Fine.” Fajah pursed her lips. “What god will they go after first?”
He’d seen Sin Eater and Precious Feather warring in a dream, though felt sure it was real. Though he hadn’t seen the conclusions, it seemed like She Who Devours the Filth would win such a battle.
“My best guess,” he said, “is that both The Healer and Sin Eater are alive. Mother Death, of course, and Smoking Mirror. And…”
“And Cloud Serpent,” finished Fajah. “Which of the surviving gods is the most dangerous?”
“Cloud Serpent or Sin Eater,” Akachi answered.
Fajah pulled a dusty chair out and sat at the table. She used her sleeve to clear a spot before her and withdrew several narcotics from her belt. “Give me a moment to get the blend right. It’ll take an hour before I can access my spirit animals.”
Akachi watched her work.
After their last clash, Efra left him alive. She could have killed Akachi—and Smoking Mirror wanted her to—but his survival amused her.
And now he knew why. She’d laughed about how him being broken was entertaining. She wants to finish breaking me.
Looking over Fajah’s shoulder, he admired her nimble fingers. He’d been skilled but never that good. Now, one hand ruined, he would forever be awkward at even the simplest tasks.
Tell her it’ll be Sin Eater.
If Efra and Nuru killed his god, he would cease to matter. He’d finally be nothing and could give up. Bastion would find some way to survive without him.
Closing his eyes, Akachi pictured returning home, throwing open the door, and finding his mom in the kitchen. He longed to be held, to feel the security of her embrace. She’d stroke his hair and cry about the wounds he’d suffered.
She wouldn’t be there. With no food delivered to the Priests’ Ring she would have been forced to abandon her home. Maybe she was dead already, killed in the battle between the gods. He wanted to believe his father would have fled with her but knew better. The church meant more to his dad than family ever could.
He’ll make sure she’s safe.
Previously, as a high ranked priest, his father could have requested a squad of Hummingbird Guard as an escort, but that was no longer possible.
Dad won’t leave the church and Mom won’t leave him.
They were both still somewhere in the Priests’ Ring. It had been at least three days since the last shipment of food. The larders would be empty. Mom’s garden was for treats, the odd fresh orange or mango. Even if the Guard hadn’t raided it before leaving—and he shuddered to imagine how that would upset her—it wouldn’t feed the family for long.
He couldn’t go searching for his family. He’d pray they were all right and do as his father would.
“It will be Cloud Serpent,” Akachi said.
Fajah stopped. Brow furrowed, she carefully said, “Fuck,” and worked faster.
NURU – WITH EBONY AND OBSIDIAN
It is axiomatic that the person with the most problems rules the relationship. The nahual are no different.
Insecure, they demand constant demonstrations of faith. Jealous, they preach their god above all others. Cruel, they lash out with whip and blade at the slightest hint of infidelity. No matter how hard you try, they will always find flaw. No matter how much you give, they will always want more. Toxic and destructive, they turn your every word and act against you.
