Citadel of the Sky (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 1) (17 page)

T
iana walked
in the eidolon graveyard. It had the dunes of a sand desert, but there was no wind, no sound, not even of her own footsteps. She passed through the shadow of a great skeletal beast and patted the ribcage as she passed under it. It felt like rough silk, not sand-etched bone. There had always been dragons in the phantasmagory, just as there were dragons in stories. “But nobody’s ever seen one for real. I wonder why?” she asked it.

“What do you see?” demanded Jinriki.

“Why do you stay so close, if it doesn’t help you understand? I won’t translate for you.” She looked up at the maw of the creature. Some memory or forgotten fantasy, left to the untender mercies of the phantasmagory. She turned away. There were walls of stone ahead, deeper in the wasteland, rising from the sand to the sky.

“I can see you. If I can’t bring you out, I must stay with you. That I am blind I lay at your feet.” There was a new edge to the voice.

“Exactly why I’m in here, fiend.” Then sound filled the world. Tiana’s thoughts vanished as a set of howls spilled across the desert sky. A scream of anguish rose louder than the howls.

A wall of darkness rushed across the wasteland, unstoppable as the tide. After it came only a deep silence.

“Is this sleep?” Jinriki asked.

The darkness parted, and she was standing on a green hilltop, looking over a beautiful bay. In the center of the bay was an island, edged by high cliffs. Behind her was the desert wasteland she’d crossed. “That was Kiar,” Tiana said. “And wolves.” She shivered.

Something flashed, moving on the beach below the hill. As it came closer, Tiana recognized Shanasee’s rainbow flying fish. At first a single creature, the shape shimmered and split into a school of smaller fish when it saw her on the top of the hill.

Tiana moved to intercept her. “What happened? Where is Kiar?”

The school spoke in a dozen high-pitched voices. “He has her—he holds her—Yithiere—she is ill—she is frightened—he is mad—no Regent—Cara—they are within—he drove me away.”

Tiana stared at Shanasee and then looked at the island, remembering what Twist had said. “Sick? The plague?”

“Says Twist—are you lost—I was to bring her out—but he said there was a way—an idea—I cannot do it—where are you?”

Tiana shifted her weight, moved her hands in a restless pattern. “In the Morning Room, I think.”

Jinriki whispered in her ear, “Yes.”

The school of fish became agitated. “He is moving—he is here and there—Cara says he is moving—departing—how can he? So focused—such discipline—always—but he tried to break my lights.”

Tiana closed her eyes. No one was better than Yithiere at walking in two worlds at once. He claimed it was a matter of survival. But how could he have even considered taking Shanasee’s lights? It was unthinkable. And yet, he was less resilient without Zavien, and he was degenerating under the strain of maintaining multiple eidolons. She wondered what Twist had done to trigger this. “What was Twist’s plan? He only said something about fighting an eidolon before he ran off.”

The school scattered and then reformed. “To attack the eidolon in her—with our own—but I cannot—I cannot—I wished to convince Yithiere—I did not.”

Jinriki’s voice was acidic with amusement. “That was his idea? How very desperate. I could find a better solution myself.”

“Don’t even think about moving my body,” Tiana snapped. Shanasee startled again, then reformed into the larger fish, murmuring to herself or her Regent.

His voice was silky. “Where would I go?”

“Nowhere,” she muttered. “Stay where you are. Stop eavesdropping. No wonder Yithiere took her away. But she’s got her own gifts; she did that thing with the enemy eidolon before. Absorbed it.”

Lightning crawled across the sky and a foul stench drifted up from the place where the sea touched the shore. It was the smell of putrescence and bile, as if the sea was sour instead of salty, and all in it dead and rotting. Tiana looked at the lightning uneasily, then made a decision.

“I won’t ever find him in the fortress alone. Shanasee… you’re strong. You can do it. You can just step out.”

The fish swished her fins fretfully. “I have no magic. Do not ask me.”

Tiana said, “I’ve heard the stories, Shan! You were the tempest, you’re the primus. Kiar needs you!”

“It doesn’t matter! I did my part! I trapped Benjen, I held him while they pulled his secrets from him, I swallowed him down. Wasn’t that enough? I
cannot
bring the darkness from myself again. You do it. You are wind and fire, to cleanse and burn. The darkness contains only… horror.” Shanasee’s voice trembled as a shadow crept across her form. “Cara, Cara, light the lamps. There isn’t enough light anymore.”

Tiana waved her hands. “I’m not there! I can’t find him!”

Shanasee said, “Then it must be Yithiere, as I said. We must convince him. Come with me; we will return to his stronghold, across the sea.”

The sky was low and ominous, crowded with charcoal clouds. There was a sound from the heavens as the clouds passed over and under each other: a slow ripping sound, like silken fabric, deliberately torn.

“What’s happening?” Tiana looked behind her and the sand wasteland was gone, replaced by another shoreline, another cliff island.

“It’s responding to Yithiere, becoming his stronghold. If he can, he will turn it against us.” The fish turned and swam away, towards the island. Tiana drifted after her.

The stench of decay and vomit grew stronger at the waterline. Tiana put her hand to her nose and imagined rose petals. “Do you smell that? Is it me or the phantasmagory?”

“I taste it,” said Shanasee. “And I see it, the color of rot and darkness across the water.” She approached the water and then backed away. “I cannot cross that now. We need another way.”

“You—” Tiana began, and stopped. She blew out her breath. “I will see if I can magic us across.”

“It’s better if you try than I. And… thank you.”

It was more complicated than it would be in the real world. Using family magic in the phantasmagory was what made the phantasmagory so very dangerous. The Regents trained to assist the Blood in doing so. Without skill, what was done in one world was echoed in the other: to fly in the phantasmagory was to fly in the physical world. To strike at something in the phantasmagory risked striking someone in the physical world as well.

Usually, but not always. The Regents were hands and eyes, feedback on a world beyond reach but not beyond the ability to affect. But Lisette was not here. She would have to do it alone.

“I am here,” said Jinriki, close to her skin.

She studied the island. A bridge would be convenient, but she wasn’t sure she could make a bridge. That was like an eidolon. She decided if she had a rope, she could pull the island across the bay. She carefully tried to trickle out a ribbon emanation, one that would only affect the phantasmagory.

Nothing happened. The phantasmagory ignored her. It was like she was six years old again, and all magic was beyond her reach.

“I am here,” Jinriki repeated.

“You are not a Regent,” she muttered. “I do not trust you.”

“I am aware of that, my lady. But I cannot let you bash your skull in, all the same.” The sword’s voice was curt.

Louder, Tiana said, “I can’t do it. I don’t have Lisette and I don’t have the skill.”
I’m the younger one
, she thought belligerently.
You’re twice my age, you should have twice my experience.

“Then we are useless here. I hope the Green Daughter looks fondly on Kiar.” Shanasee backed further away from the shore. “I can’t be here anymore. It’s too dark. Cara, help me.”

“No!” Tiana said. “No! Hiding and praying is not what we do, Shan!” She sounded like Jerya, which was irritating. “Lord of Winter!” she swore and cupped her hands around her mouth.

“Yithiere!” she shouted at the island, and she didn’t care if she shouted in the physical world as well. When she shouted again, it was amplified a hundredfold by her magic. “Uncle! Come and talk to us! We are small and powerless, while you are wise and skilled! The two of us are hardly a threat!”

Shanasee finned backward in surprise. Lightning danced across the sky again and the rasping, tearing sound grew louder. A drop of rain plopped on Tiana’s head and then skittered down her arm, now a glass spider.

She shuddered and stared as mist rose from the beach and the sea. “What is happening to the phantasmagory? This is… strange.”

“I don’t know,” said Shanasee. “Not Yithiere after all. There’s sand under my skin.” The beach shifted underfoot, stable footing flowing away, and the mist thickened.

Tiana shouted again, “Uncle Yithiere! Please! Just talk to us!” She didn’t try to disguise the desperation in her voice.

The mist swirled.

Then a tall, black wolf, elegant and lean, appeared through the drifting white, stopping a good distance away.

“Do you know what they want me to do, Tiana?” the wolf asked.

Tiana caught her breath. “What?”

Yithiere lowered his head, his yellow wolf’s eyes narrow. “Attack her. Perhaps even slay her. But if I could just understand… I would know what to do. I can almost see the secrets, Tiana.” He looked up at the sky, flattened his ears. “In the hidden corners of the world. I didn’t want her to be a pawn. I didn’t listen closely enough, so I couldn’t protect Zavien. I knew this was coming. But not from Twist. How could he not know? I thought he saw into the corners.”

Softly, Tiana said, “I have heard she is ill.” Shanasee moved in agitated circles.

The wolf said, “She is strong, and there are many who survive. I will take care of her. Zavien wouldn’t die a second time. If you want to help her, you should convince the others to leave us be. I can’t concentrate with all these distractions.” He pawed at his face. “I’ve almost got it.”

Tiana felt like weeping. Had Rinta or Pell been like this, before their deaths? They were Yithiere’s
younger
siblings, and there were such stories about them in the weeks before they’d died. Had Benjen been like this, before his Blights? Was this what lay before her, Shonathan’s hollowness or this madness?

Jinriki whispered, “I can find them, with some time. Only a direct path, though.”

Tiana shook her head and tried to focus. She remembered what Kiar had mentioned about the plague. “Many who survive the illness continue on only in body, not in spirit.” She imagined Kiar with empty eyes and shuddered.

Yithiere took a deep breath and pawed at his nose again. “Is that so?” Wolf-ears swiveled to Tiana. “I have never seen an illness take hold so quickly, I admit. Save for the fever, I would imagine she’s been poisoned.”

“She has!” Shanasee burst out. Tiana made frantic shushing motions. “A poison, and you must leech it out. Like calls to like, Yithiere!”

The wolf’s ears flattened. “Like calling to like is exactly the reason I will not use it. That is why Math died.”

A trickle of cold went down Tiana’s spine. “Oh, no,” she said. She wasn’t sure what he meant, but it invoked a powerful dread. Math had died in a final confrontation with Benjen, and Shanasee had never been the same. She glanced at her cousin, who had gone very still.

The mist roughened, brushing across her skin like sandpaper, then faded away. A road stretched across the sea from the shore. They all stared at it. Then Yithiere said, “I did not make that.” He growled to himself. “This is a memory.”

The breeze picked up, carrying the smell of grass and dust. Faded, green fields unrolled across gentle hills and in the distance, Yithiere’s island wavered like a heat mirage. Beyond it rose the vast mountain of Sel Sevanth, whose shadow sheltered Lor Seleni and the Royal Palace. Astonished, Tiana said, “This is the Royal Highway. Why are we on the Royal Highway?”

Shanasee swirled a whirlwind of dust around herself and said uneasily, “It’s just the tide of the phantasmagory. But look at the sky: something is wrong. Cara, please, help me!”

Tiana looked up. The sky was clear blue, but dread crept across it, a black wall. “Insects,” she said. “Locusts? What’s going on?” She reached out for her body, for any sense of the other world, and found only the current of the phantasmagory.

Panic rising, she said, “Jinriki?”

In her ear, the sword said, “I’m here.”

“What’s going on, Jinriki? Are you still… out there?”

Shan muttered to herself. Yithiere stared keenly at Tiana. She bit her lip and folded her hands behind her back.

There was silence. Then Jinriki said, “Yes. The place you are in becomes hostile, though. The dreams are sharp and jagged. If you would like to come out at last, I will protect you.”

Tiana shook her head. “Are you all right?”

The sword said, “I’m sharp and jagged, too. It takes more than dreams to hurt me.”

Irritation overwrote the panic. “Well, good for you.”

Yithiere said, “Who are you addressing? Not Lisette, I think.”

Tiana tossed her head. “Lisette is with Jerya. I’m talking to the fiend. My sword. Uncle, the phantasmagory’s changed. I think it’s because of Kiar’s illness. I think if we don’t cure her, we’ll all be in trouble.”

Yithiere bristled. “Do you see it too? You haven’t the skill.” He snapped his jaws in Tiana’s direction and growled. “There is… you may be right. But Kiar… come and see.” He trotted towards the island, down the road.

Tiana looked at Shanasee, who was swirling yet more dust around herself, her movements jerky and frantic. “Shanasee—” she began, then stopped. “I’m going to see Kiar. I’ll come back for you if Cara can’t help you. You’ll be all right.”

“Cara, Cara,” the brilliant fish whispered. “Cara, the darkness is coming.” Tiana clenched her fists and walked after Yithiere.

She walked, but the fields and the road did not move beneath her. Soon, Yithiere was walking beside her. “I’m tired of wondering what’s going on,” Tiana complained. The sunlit day darkened under the pestilent swarm that flowed across the sky, and black drops fell intermittently.

A fence beam broke with a sharp crack and cattle crowded over it. Mooing and chuffing, they wandered into the road. Yithiere said, “This is Kiar’s memory.”