Maiden of the Hollow Path, page 43
“Like Velbinding,” Crogan added.
“Like Velbinding,” their frames were close now as she turned to stare at him. “Anyway, the Revenant’s Grimoire was crafted by Shukran’s hand, bound by human skin and ancient tribal inks that Summer Children were known for using on their own person.”
At that, Crogan’s eyes fell to the slips of ink he remembered seeing on her body. Though there were enough layers to hide that on Shahina, he wondered how long it took the girl to realize all her honor marks were a mere mockery of Those Who Came Before.
“As the first living Arcani who perfected magick, she asked for Akaazom’s council and gave to him the sacred text that would permeate through the Veld. With enough anger and hatred for Vehden’s First Children, she was allowed entry and, in time, ruled a sect of the uncharted as her queendom. Within this text, Shukran mimicked the nature of Vehden by perceiving destiny. Everything she’s mentioned in this grimoire has come true, such as the end of the Old World starting exactly three centennial’s after the fall of jinn kind.”
“Shukran believed some catastrophic event would disturb the natural order of Rukhezzi,” Crogan was slowly trying to put the pieces together, looking over the table and at the medallion with its broken face. “The House of Falcons knows no order and the state of the country was already ruled by jinn. The Northern Province knew ruination as it did uncivilized law—in theory—and the only thing that kept South Reach from falling were the wards.”
“Where are you going with this?” Roswell asked.
Crogan faced Shahina fully as he said, “Take the medallion. Ask Albatross what he knows. The man only survived the Hellstorm Trials as he did the Deep Trenches,” then, swiveling his gaze to Roswell, “Lady Ellidai, is it possible for you to acquire the familal records of the Rukhezzi?”
Roswell let out a low whistle. “That’s quite extensive. If you want me to start with the last three generations, that’ll take a month, maybe two.”
“We don’t have that time to spare. Pull each record that directly links the Rajamata to her offspring. We’re looking for pure rakhta’s specifically,” Roswell nodded in return, leaving Crogan and Karius smiling warily at one another. “Is it too early to call in favors from Lord Sena?”
“Well, you are supposed to be my brother-in-law, so I guess I can make an exception.”
“The Second and Third District seem to hold both Highborns and Lowborns. If it’s possible, ask around. Sometimes people know things you’d never dream of.”
Shahina closed the Revenant’s Grimoire, staring at him curiously. “What’ll you be doing in the meantime?”
“Accessing your court records.”
Shahina raised her brows. “I understand you might find some prominence in them, but not a soul can retrieve them for you if not Minakshi.”
“One of the reasons why I’d like to ask her for help. See how far the magickal line goes back amongst your bloodline.”
Shahina chuckled. “My lord, I assure you she’s the first.”
“How do you know?” Crogan asked, and at this, everyone turned to stare at him. “For example, your people have lived for ten generations and out of the blue she wakes up with magick scorching through her veins? Highly unlikely even with the introduction of Velbinding which forcefully injects corruption into the body in lieu of magick. It’s really not an other-worldly construct, it’s a gift that hits home. It ruminates in your blood. Take the obvious. My father was a kitsune and his father before. It’s nature with can skip a generation or two but never to leave completely A recessive gene, so you could say.”
“You think if it didn’t come from my mother, it came from my grandmother.” Shahina affirmed, nodding to herself. “Alright. Ros, send a messenger for my sister. Lord Takahashi and I have some idle work to do as a couple before returning to the Marizad. Mina is expected to be ready for work first thing in the morning.”
“You think your people will be alright having a Valheim foreigner walking about your palace?” Crogan teased.
“You’re sleeping in my bed tonight,” Shahina returned with a small smile. “My people have no choice but to submit or perish.”
“Ever the tyrant,” the King of Lords harrumphed, his eyes dashed with amusement.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE: JINN-TOUCHED
CROGAN found the Nine Districts to be harrowing.
Shortly after leaving the Library of Ancients, Shahina left him with a servant from the palace. “Stay and I’ll go fetch a few things I had made for you. It would be a shame using one of your new hires to do busy work when we’re here.”
Crogan raised his brows. “You? A Paragon? Fetching?”
She laughed, her voice carrying over the winds. Her hand snagged his in an attempt to place coin in his palm. Crogan noticed with an ebbing smile that her right shook unsteadily, almost as if the prosthetic seemed to gross less function.
It hadn’t seemed to deter her, not when something far more important rested on her mind. “Get some food with that. You’ll have enough to buy a buffet should you wish.”
Crogan was shortly left with the palace servant, a handsome middle-aged man with a white turban secured atop his head. He seemed ecstatic to follow the King of Lords, keeping silent as per his training unless spoken to.
His name was Yusuf and his family served the Rukhezzi’s for the last five generations. As they walked and browsed the many vendors that were lined across the street, Crogan felt his mouth water. He had absolutely no idea what any of these foods consisted of, only that Dreg was obsessed with samosas the time they were hiding out in the bastard homes.
He was a bit aloof without Shahina beside him. When his eyes wandered, she spoke. It came to her candidly and Crogan enjoyed the way she spoke; light and kind–attributes that were hard to come by for the girl.
Without her, however, he decided to stand before a stall that was wide and open, showing their craft by frying sugars and spice in large, black pots on the ground. Crogan tucked his hands behind his back, interested at the women who were settled in cheap fabrics and silver jewels instead of gold. They smiled warmly at him, their mastery of Old Tongue making him feel out of place.
Just as he was about to turn and ask Yusuf what dishes were being prepped, an arm slung around his neck. Ezekiel clicked their tongue, staring at the vendor with a handsome smile. “Mushroom masala always pairs well with naan and tandoori chicken. Flavor explosion, but it might be a tad too rich for you. How about we get to know each other over nastha, my lord? Aloo bhaji and paratha? My mother makes an amazing cup of chai.”
Crogan took in Ezekiel, at that one tarnished eye, that one touch of an Ifrit that made them both a horror and a blessing among the streets. He nodded first to himself and then in response. “That sounds wonderful, Lord Mukhta.”
Ezekiel smiled vibrantly at his expense. “And what manners,” then looking over Crogan’s shoulder at Yusuf, hardened their voice, “You’re dismissed. Tell the Rajkumari, the Paragon, the whatever she-wishes-to-call-herself that should she seek her betrothed, he’ll be playing with the Wyvern Master.”
Yusuf hesitated only a moment before leaving.
That left Crogan with this strange person Shahina seemed inclined to make alliances with. Either this was a chance for him to shine or a chance for him to become a statistic.
* * *
There was a lot more traffic here in the Second District. While Wyvern Holding was kept just on the border of the Third Gate, it was clear Azghal’s destruction from Roseblood close to the Coalition buildings pushed for faster sales. The older serpents had freedom of the streets. Their snouts were muzzled and their wings bound to their backs. Leather saddles bound riders to them, while most opted to pulling their reins along. Only after passing several did Crogan notice the point of their venomous stinger.
“The young ones are ferocious. They don’t know their strength nor their size, so we don’t necessarily bring them closer to the First District until they’re a bit better acclimated to their Wyvern Master’s. After Azghal’s appearance, we didn’t have that privilege,” Ezekiel explained. “Now I have to rush to sell them knowing they may eat their riders. If it’s more of the High Born? I wouldn’t mind too much.”
Crogan chucked. “You sound like Shahina.”
Ezekiel quirked a brow. “And how does that fare in your book?” At Crogan’s silence, they continued, “The girl and I used to brawl in the open court just outside the Altar of Kings. The trouble we used to get into,” Ezekiel snickered. “We are vastly different despite our similarities. She had this unnerving need to serve and I had a need to deny. But our similarities drew strong. I went off to Sutherforge for rehabilitation after deserting and she burned the Summer Court before I could.” They clicked their tongue. “Lucky bitch.”
“Would you rather have been known for a war crime such as that?” Crogan asked, his fingers lightly drawing over an obsidian wyvern in passing.
“She had the privilege of leaving this place. Exile can be a blessing, my lord, should you see it as such. And dwarven girls?” Ezekiel whistled, hand to the heart. “They’ll worship you just for that. But alas, these are just menial bouts of envy that’ll pass.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Ezekiel chuckled warmly. “Liberation, my lord. It’s a rally cry for the oppressed and those that stray under our boot. Mukhta was a name that I gave myself” –Crogan allowed them to explain in detail Shahina hadn’t– “Think for just one second the state of this country. A country that has pillaged and raped to sustain its wealth and grandeur. Shahina and I, we’re not so different. She wants to fix the throne, I wish to break it. Tis the only reason she isn’t worthy enough to be a Mukhta.”
“Not yet,” Crogan declared.
Ezekiel raised a thick brow. “You’re ever the dreamer, my lord. Come,” they gestured to an open building full of laughing women and men, “I promised you a meal and at least this way you can learn a thing or two about our family without that biased girl whispering in your ear.”
Crogan stepped over the threshold, bombarded then by stares. They weren’t as invasive as the others that were thrown his way out in the Second District, but kinder and curious in nature. There was a gorgeous, black woman that came to the duo almost instantly, her vivacious smile warm and inviting.
Her box braids fell down to a set of wide hips that moved with grace and as her breathtaking pink eyes took on a more muted and somber look. She had the air of a noblewoman, what with her squared shoulders and silver regalia inlaid with garnet.
It seemed she had choice words in Ezekiel’s direction, but kept them now that her eyes met Crogan’s. “You must be the King of Lords. Shahina always has good taste in picking her partners, and I see you exceed those expectations,” she put her hands together, greeting him in Old Tongue. “Lakshmi Adhikari.”
“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Crogan Takahashi,” the latter returned with a respectful bow.
“A respectful champ, isn’t he?” Ezekiel asked, their eyes never moving from the woman before them.
Lakshmi nodded with clear admiration. “I wanted to thank you for the wyvern egg you allowed me to buy” –and then turning to Crogan, her smile broadened– “I’ve always raised fledglings since I was a girl. It’s good to have something to care for.”
Crogan felt his heart swell, a sudden burst of missing Kodomo making him clench his jaw with guilt. “I understand. I have a bone vulture myself. Good lad–fierce and loyal fighter too. They’ll do anything to keep their flock master safe.”
Lakshmi warmed before she and Ezekiel said in unison, “Come take a seat.” They shared a startled look, as if their hands touched in passing. Ezekiel swallowed a lump in their throat, ruminating in clipped silence before Lakshmi continued. “Pushpa is a wonderful cook. She treats all of Zeke’s people as her own.”
Ezekiel slapped Crogan on the shoulder, smirking before easing towards the chatter. There were sanded, light-wood tables that held figures that chattered and ate nastha—something Crogan learned meant ‘breakfast’ or as Ezekiel put it—‘snacks’. The large hunks of food that were settled atop round dishes proved it could be a meal, at least more than Crogan would have first thing in the morning. But the truth was, since he settled within the Nine Districts, and then, subsequently the Marizad, he hadn’t eaten properly.
So nashta it was as he took a seat at one of the bar stools near the open counter. The white dish that settled before him smelt delectable with seasoned aloo bhaji and paratha.
“You can use a spoon, but we always use our hands,” Ezekiel explained as they took a seat beside him. Crogan watched as they demonstrated, tearing a piece of their paratha and using it to properly dab it into the spiced dish.
Crogan followed shortly after, messy and not as composed as Ezekiel, but successful nonetheless. The minute he put the flavorful foods in his mouth, an explosion of garlic, turmeric and mustard seeds made his tongue tingle. It didn’t take long before he scarfed down what was before him, not a speck of aloo bhaji left and pieces of paratha used to soak up the juice.
A set of laughs echoed around them, mostly from enamored women who were enthralled to have the King of Lords in their company. Of them was Lakshmi who’d strayed beside an even gorgeous woman, were that possible
She was a cross between Shahina and Ezekiel and if she were younger, Crogan would’ve believed her to be a sibling if not for the heavy bags that weighed under her eyes and the crows feet crinkling the corners of her eyes.
She’d settled herself with a silver platter full of sweets and cups of chai. No doubt she was Ezekiel’s mother, for all the tension in their shoulder subsided. On the other side of the counter, the woman placed the tray before them and smiled warmly.
“My child tells me you haven’t had Amari chai yet. The thing that makes it the most notable is that it’s usually made by a very talented and wise group of individuals—usually mother’s.”
Ezekiel shook their head passively. “My mother, Pushpa, is a theatrical woman. Don’t let her deter you.”
Pushpa set a cup before each of them along with a bowl of sugar and another full of sandesh. “Now tell me, child, what do you wish for me to call you?”
Crogan quirked a brow at the question. “Perhaps I should be asking you that question. Your tithe may just exceed mine.”
Pushpa laughed in a calculated baritone, “I was disowned by the House of Falcons many ages ago. Everyone here either calls me as they would their own mother or by my name.”
“Well, I cannot do the former so for the time being I’ll address you as I would my own.” Crogan smirked before drawing the chai to his lips. It was rich, bitter but rounded well with just the perfect amount of milk and tea leaves. “Thank you for being so welcoming.”
“It’s the least we can do,” Pushpa said before drawing a stern glare in Ezekiel’s direction. “Whatever you wish to converse of, remember that he is a conduit well known to the House of Falcons. Mind yourself.”
“Relax, Ma.” She departed with little else to say, taking the platter with her. With some privacy between them, Ezekiel turned in their seat so they faced Crogan. “Has Shahina thought of alliances?”
“It seems the only one she truly vyes for is yours. Will you give it to her?”
Ezekiel smiled somberly. “Hm. Well, I doubt most within the Marizad would enjoying having someone so open with their theatrical and rebellious theories employed under her. I wasn’t much a fan of politics.”
“But you are a fan of hunting wyverns and selling them. Why not ally with Shahina as a trader rather than a cousin released from Sutherforge—whatever that means.”
“It means reeducation,” Ezekiel murmured. “They didn’t get me all too well.”
Crogan snorted, “Tell me something then. Why, out of all the people here, do you think Shahina wants you as her right-hand? What makes you so important?”
“Because we’re both Jinn-Touched. Heard of it before?” Crogan shook his head in response. “It means that we’ve both had a terrifying brush with death, allowing the high-ranking Ifrit—for it’s never a Marid when it comes to being haunted, it’s always something more—to lay claim to a part of us.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“It means that it’s a taking or possession of something that mars the soul. My eye was taken by a creature known as Letir—“ Crogan blanched at the name, at the sudden realization Shukran had been closer to the royal family than he expected and Shahina kept that secret from him though he deserved to know, “—before I bound him to me. I didn’t have it in me to keep him as a Relic. It was a scary time, having to hear him prattling in my ear at night even though he was supposed to be imprisoned upon this construct. And then, at times when I would look at myself in the mirror, it would change; warp so it was him and not me.”
Crogan fully turned to face them, “What did your Relic look like?”
Ezekiel furrowed their brow. “It was a signet ring. Why do you ask?”
“The medallion Shahina and I found out in Stonegrave was referred to as the Binding of Four. Within it was Shukran, Azghal, Letir and Istaman. The jadukari confirmed that Talath was the one who brought it to them.”
“Impossible,” Ezekiel retorted. “When I gave it up, it was given to Rani Resham. There’s a vault in the western corridor that houses several of those that were abandoned by their handlers. But it’d be a dangerous game transferring an Ifrit to another Relic entirely unless it was controlled by someone with intense magicks. If you’re suspecting her, then you have a right to. She’s a vile woman, but alas we all have to bow to the whims of order and thus one of the reasons why I refuse to bend my back to politics. The tale of Rukhezzi killing each other for the throne is real, but you must understand that while they can be glorified with Anointing’s and favored by the people, the Lotus Throne is a living, breathing conduit that is made from the Velbinding artifacts that spilled into our lands and it too has a choice. It has been forced to hold the weight of those less fortunate, which is why it dwindles in ruination now. If you want to bury this house to purifying your magick and if Shahina wishes to change the world as it is; both of you must sacrifice your heart and what it wants.”
