Citadel of the Sky (Thrones of the Firstborn Book 1) (29 page)

“That’s creepy,” said Lisette.

“Yeah.” She flipped more pages. “These are some fables. The sword is in them. I guess it was his, and believe me, that’s troubling. I think these are multiple texts collected into one volume, by a single set of scribes.”

She turned to the end of the book. The last paragraph read
The insane yet call for him, but all that was once dhember is now black and his messengers are as mad dogs, and I think this book is all that is left of the Lord of Falling Stars, Innis. But if there is something left that carries his essence, whether in the shattered hearts of his followers, or on the tongues of fiends, or in the very wind that touches the Earth, may He have mercy on us all.

She read the passage again, then began reading backwards up the page, saying, “I think he was… destroyed? Can that happen?” She turned back a page and saw something that left her fingers nerveless. The book slipped out of her hands, but Lisette caught it before it could hit the floor.

“What?” She turned the book around and peered at the ancient script.

Kiar swallowed. “Shin Savanyel.” She pointed at the place on the page, but Lisette only shook her head and handed the book back.

“I can’t read it. What does it say?”

Kiar scanned the page again.  “’On the day the god died, the dhember and gold yevins that nest above the great house twisted and died on the wing. When they fell to the ground, they were black and rotting. The sun put on a mourning veil and the aravis blossoms turned to ash and dust. The messenger in the second temple went mad and slew the priests and attendants. The efey lost their voices and became as horses, and the shepherds of the dreys devoured their charges. By these signs and more, we knew the Eldest had been murdered.’ And then, later, ‘For those shattered, the vengeance of the Firstborn provided no solace, for what was lost could not be regained. And the surviving Firstborn withdrew from the Holy Land, leaving it in the care of the architect of their vengeance, for he was a hero in the eyes of the people.’”

Lisette said, “I’ve never heard that story of Shin Savanyel before. What
is
this book?” She craned her head to look at the cover again.

“This part’s called the Dissolution Testament. But I don’t know. Something hidden. Something nobody was ever supposed to read.” She ran her fingers over the neat calligraphy and then flipped backwards until she found an illustration of the sword. “The sword talks to Tiana, doesn’t it?”  Lisette didn’t answer, and Kiar looked up to see that she was staring blankly at her bandaged hand. “Lisette?”

Lisette jerked her gaze up. “It talks. It spoke to me when I held it. It told me I was proving my worthlessness. And that I didn’t deserve Tiana’s affection. That I was useless meat—” She stopped as Kiar put her fingers over Lisette’s mouth.

“Stop it! Don’t remember.”

Lisette whispered, “It wanted to kill Cathay. It wanted me to do it.”

Kiar curled her fingers into her palm. “It’s a monster. This Firstborn was served by monsters. We’re probably all better off that he’s gone.” She flipped back to the doctrinal section. “Look at this. Innocence. Ignorance. He forbade the study of the Logos.” She clapped the book shut. “This is rubbish.”

Hammad’s voice was thin. “How do you kill a Firstborn?”

Kiar hesitated. Lisette was staring at her hand again. “It didn’t say. Maybe he wasn’t a Firstborn. Maybe he just claimed to be. Maybe he was just a powerful fiend.”

Lisette bit her lip. “You said the other Firstborn rewarded Shin for avenging him.” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

Reluctantly, Kiar opened the book again to the Dissolution Testament. “Twist, you’re so quiet.”

But even as she said it, she realized the fourth person in the room was not Twist, but a woman of the Blood. Her skin prickled and she froze, staring at the corner where the woman stood quietly. She was gazing at the ground, with a distant look that made her seem blind.

“I’ll go get him.” Lisette stood up, but Kiar shook her head.

“No… I thought he was here already.” She darted a look at Hammad and Lisette, but they seemed oblivious to the stranger.

“It’s a good idea, though.” Lisette pushed the door open and stepped outside the room.

Kiar turned her Logos-vision on the woman in the corner and then sighed. She wasn’t there at all; it was the phantasmagory leaking. It was strange, though. The phantasmagory had been scoured clean. What did the woman represent? She had the features of the Blood, but she was completely unfamiliar.

The woman fell out of focus as Lisette returned with Twist, explaining the story of Innis. “And we’re confused because, well, it doesn’t make sense.” Kiar looked down at the page she had her finger on, away from Twist.

“The Firstborn created the world, according to the maker’s marks,” Twist observed, in his wry, smiling voice. “They are more powerful than any fiend. They not only use the Logos, but shape the raw substance of the universe: the vessel as well as what it contains. If any one of them were to… stop existing, I imagine part of the universe would simply cease existing as well.” He paused and Kiar looked up, unable to fathom why he was smiling. It was a grim expression. “But how was it done?”

Kiar said, “It just says he was betrayed.” But she forced herself to slow down, read every word. “The murderer’s name was Ohedreton. Oh, no. No.” Her stomach dropped away at what she read. “They must be confused. It says Ohedreton had powers that were resistant to the Logos, resistant to, um, the lux. He was able to do many things and created many adversaries, but to the forces of the world, his minions were as phantoms. But that can’t be right. Shin Savanyel had that magic. They must have misinterpreted how he triumphed over this traitor, this Firstborn murderer.” She glanced up, hoping for reassurance. “Right?”

Lisette had her fingers stuffed in her mouth. She shook her head, pulled them out, and whispered, “The Blighter has that magic too.”

Kiar stared at her. Then, accusingly, she said, “I don’t understand. This doesn’t make any sense. How could they all have the same magic?”

Twist said carelessly, “So Shin Savanyel learned his magic from the Firstborn slayer, who was the first Blighter. And our current Blighter uses identical magic to the first Blighter and has quite a grudge against Shin’s descendants. It seems very straightforward to me.” Kiar lowered her head again, resisting the desire to throw the book at him.

Lisette shook her head. “Is that what the Regents died for? To punish the Blood for something that happened generations ago?” She sighed. “And the dead Firstborn’s sword has found Tiana.” The half-hour bell tolled and Hammad animated, looking around as if waking from a sleep. Lisette sighed. “Almost time for Antecession. We should tell Tiana about this afterwards.”

A
t midnight
, a host of tiny stars rose to fill the galleries of the atrium at the heart of the Citadel, and the inhabitants of the Citadel gathered to celebrate Antecession. The cold light sparkled on the water falling from an eagle’s claws in the great round fountain dedicated to the holiday.  The monks and students gathered in the cloisters and spilled out onto the pavement around the fountain.

Tiana stood in the shadow of a statue of a former Magister, wishing for the warm, traditional lamps in Lor Seleni. Lisette had pinned her hair back, and the Citadel had provided her with a simple white gown. It was ancient and lovely, but she was cold. There were windows open somewhere high up.

Cathay and the Magister stood with her, while Kiar, Lisette, and Twist stood in the front row of the watchers. Cathay was bare-chested, wearing white pants that matched her gown. He smiled at her, and she noticed resentfully he didn’t have goose bumps at all. “How can you not be cold?” she whispered.

“Come here and I’ll show you,” he whispered back and then laughed at her. “The fountain’s snow-melt.”

Tiana sucked in her breath. “That can’t be true!” She turned to the Magister. “He’s teasing me, right?”

The Magister had a benevolent smile. “Nothing is more pure than the snows of Sel Sevanth, Your Highness.”

“Cruel,” she whimpered.

**Cathay fits right in here, I see,**
observed Jinriki.

The Magister patted her arm. “The bravery of your family is legendary. Now, I must begin the ceremony.” He adjusted his thick robes and walked to the center of the atrium. “Antecession!” he began, his voice becoming large. “The time of purification! Their Royal Highnesses are here to lead us through the ritual, but first, I would like everyone to look inside themselves. This is the time to remember the actions that have shamed you, the decisions you regret, the failures….”

The Magister was an excellent speaker, but Tiana was familiar with the Antecession sermon and she didn’t want to pay attention to the cold. She wasn’t supposed to dip into the phantasmagory during the ritual, but her part hadn’t technically started. She lowered her gaze and then startled as Cathay’s hand touched hers. He was very warm.

“Don’t go,” he murmured. “Nothing you regret?” Before she had a chance to react, he continued, “I do.” His hold on her hand remained light and she looked at him sidelong. His face was calm, his eyes closed. “I wish I were less of a capricious fool. I’d temper my heart into something worthwhile, if I could. Flame and water.” He squeezed her hand and stepped forward as the Magister beckoned, towing her with him.

At the curve of the fountain, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away first .The smile he gave her was sweet and sleepy. He bowed and kissed the back of her fingers before he released her. She watched him follow the arc of the fountain to the north side, only remembering her own role when he pulled out his flute. Then she hurried to the south side of the fountain, wondering if having regrets was better than not, after all.

Cathay’s flute started softly. Tiana had picked the music; her favorite of the Antecession hymns. Usually she sang without musical accompaniment, and she hadn’t watched another member of the Blood in their Antecession performance since she was ten. In Lor Seleni, the Blood spread out through the city to lead neighborhoods in the ceremony, since tradition dictated that the family magic be involved if at all possible.

Cathay’s eyes were closed again, and Tiana wondered how seriously he took the purification part of the ceremony. She’d always looked forward to the collecting of the treasures more, but now she felt a twinge of guilt. In this holy place, perhaps she’d better consider more important things.

She sang the first verse of Edge of Twilight and remembered the young men who had attacked her. Did she regret her decision? That she had to make it, yes, but—
You’d better run, because I’m not going to.

She regretted her recent aggression. She regretted embarrassing herself. And she regretted that her mother had left. But those were uncomfortable thoughts. Those went in directions she didn’t want to go and besides, the verse was almost done, and with the second verse came the wading into the fountain. Snow-melt. That was something to regret. She regretted it already, as she ascended to the rim of the basin.

The water was mind-numbingly cold, shocking the air out of her even though she’d tried to expect it. She heard a curse from across the water as she drew in a ragged breath and looked up to see Cathay squeezing his eyes tight. He’d already advanced up to his knees.

Tiana looked at her barely-wet feet and then took a big step forward into the cold, her gown clinging to her. She took another deep breath, and then Cathay picked up the flute’s song again and it was time for the second of four verses. By the end of the verse, she’d waded in as deep as the pool got, to her chest. Beyond the fall of water from the eagle’s claws, she could see that Cathay definitely had goose bumps now, and she suppressed a giggle. She thought she was probably freezing under the surface of the water, but she couldn’t tell at all. She brought her hands together under the surface, wondering if they were numb. But she could feel her own warmth and a gentle tingling. Then she noticed the sparkles at the bottom of the pool. Laughing, she submerged herself entirely.

The water closing over her head felt pleasant rather than icy, and she lifted her feet to float in a ball as she studied the scattered treasures. There was a golden ball, a battered silver mug, a little pile of fabric, a crystal sculpture of a fish, a bronze platter, a glass rose, the glitter of jewelry. Richer treasures than she expected; in Lor Seleni, she distributed toys and small tools of more functional materials.

Quick as a snake, she snatched the fabric and surfaced again. It was a red silk scarf patterned with yellow flowers, and it unrolled like a ribbon as she drew it out of the water. She caught the eye of one of the monks and, smiling, tossed it to him. It spiraled like a leaf into his hands, guided by her magic. Cathay crooked his finger at a young female student, and an emanation carried the bell he’d chosen to her. The audience was very appreciative; outside Lor Seleni, attendants had to distribute the treasures of the celebrants and most of these people had probably never seen the Royal magic before.

It was time for the third verse. This time they both sang, and it was surprisingly delightful to wind her voice around his. The water under the starry night was so peaceful that she had to resist the inclination to float on her back. She wasn’t sure where her sensitivity to the cold had gone but she’d never felt so clean and free before. More than just free, she was calm and relaxed; the biting irritation was almost gone. Oh, yes. She regretted how irritable she’d been. She felt amazing. If she could only hold this all year long, she’d never need to flee to the phantasmagory.

As she dunked herself a second time, languorously picking up the glass rose, the skin of her forehead burned. She brushed her fingers across it and the burning intensified. Shaking her head, wondering if she’d cut herself somehow, she surfaced again and looked around for someone to give the rose to.

Lisette was standing by the edge of the pool, Kiar holding her upper arm. She stood awkwardly, like something was wrong, and her face was a mask of horror. Tiana frowned and waded over to offer Lisette the rose. She raised her eyebrows as she presented the treasure, wondering at the cause of Lisette’s distress. Kiar seemed confused, too.

Instead of taking the glass rose, Lisette clasped Tiana’s hand in both of her own. Her voice was strange and rough as she said, “You must stop this.” She moved her grip to Tiana’s wrist and yanked hard enough to pull Tiana off her feet. But she wasn’t strong enough to lift Tiana bodily from the water. Tiana kicked, trying to regain her feet and not snap the stem of the glass rose. But Lisette didn’t let go, and only Kiar’s grip on her shoulder prevented her from tumbling into the fountain as well.

“Hey!” Kiar whispered. “What’s going on? Why—”

But Lisette paid no attention to her. Her eyes were wide and dilated, and she was breathing in short, jerky gasps, staring at Tiana.

“I’m enjoying myself, Lisette! You’re right, I’ve been a menace lately. I can’t believe I made such a fuss.” The burning on her forehead was growing more intense, but somehow she knew a third dunk would wash away whatever was hurting her. “Here, have this rose. My wonderful Lisette.” She smiled up at her Regent. “I’m sorry I was jealous, too.” And she was, she was so sorry, and she knew the final dunk would wash away that as well.

“No,” Lisette said. Her voice was creaky. “No. Please. No. Don’t do this. Don’t wash me away.”

Lisette’s desperation finally started to penetrate Tiana’s pleasant peacefulness. She put the rose on the edge of the fountain and looked around. The audience was staring, murmuring, and Cathay was moving across the pool. Lisette tugged on her again, pulling hard.

Kiar stared at Lisette and then released her shoulder like it was hot. “Oh, no. The fiend has her.” Lisette teetered on the edge, twisting like a cat to regain her balance. But she wouldn’t release her tight grip on Tiana’s hand and it was too much. She splashed into the fountain, the water closing over her head. Tiana kept her own head above water and wrested her hand free, backing away, watching cautiously.

When Lisette surfaced again, she screamed, “No!” She blinked through the water streaming out of her hair and then surged forward, clutching at Tiana again. “No. You’ve already washed so much away.” Lisette’s fingers, always so gentle, pressed against Tiana’s face.

“Jinriki?” said Tiana, feeling for his presence in her mind. There was only that pleasant peacefulness, like silk had replaced sandpaper. And the burning on her forehead, so like the burning when Jinriki’s caretaker had painted a glyph on her skin.

“Yes!” Lisette cried. “Please.”

Tiana put her hands over Lisette’s on her cheeks. “What did you do to Lisette? Where is she?”

Lisette pressed her forehead against Tiana’s, whispering, “She is here. She is watching.” Her eyes widened and she said, “But if you wash me away, she will be mine eternally. I will have nothing else left to me for my revenge, yes, nothing else but to wear the skins I take, no other recourse!”

Panic surged in Tiana and she writhed backwards, trying to escape Lisette’s grip. But Lisette clutched at her, grabbing anew each time she freed herself. Then Cathay surfaced behind her, a wooden rod in one hand. He wrapped his arms around Lisette, holding her away from Tiana.

“No!” Lisette shrieked, turning on Cathay. In the blink of an eye, she’d kicked him twice and hit him with her forearm, making him stagger back. “You! I’ll kill you—” He pulled both of them under the surface of the water and she emerged, shrieking again.

“Your Highness,” said the Magister. He was standing at the edge of the pool behind Tiana. “Best finish the ritual quickly, before anybody gets hurt.” He looked contemplative.

“But what if he—it—he said he’d just do what he’s doing. Steal people’s bodies.” She imagined Jinriki’s thirst for revenge pointed at her and her family, and felt sick.

The Magister focused on Tiana and said calmly, “I believe we will be able to bind the fiend and prevent it from doing more harm. But you must be free of its taint before that can happen.”

She brushed her fingers over her forehead. Lisette had escaped from Cathay and scrambled out of the pool again. She crawled closer to Tiana along the edge of the water, stopping just out of reach of the Magister. There was something inhuman about the way she moved and her gaze was bestial. “Please,” she breathed.

“Your Highness, you must finish the ritual. Submerge yourself a final time and take up a treasure.” The Magister’s gentle voice was even and unconcerned. “Why do you pause?”

“My mind is so quiet now. I feel so peaceful. I never noticed what I had until I lost it,” she said to Lisette.

“You washed me away,” Lisette said, her broken voice creaking with sorrow.

“You wanted to fight, all the time.”

“I am a weapon. I am a
sword
!”

“That’s true,” she murmured and looked away from Lisette’s contorted shape, toward the passage that led to her chamber, where she’d left Jinriki’s true form. It was just as fair to blame a baby for crying or a member of the Blood for being eccentric.

Cathay said, “Tiana, it’s a monster. Look what it’s done to your best friend.” He was nursing a cut across one cheek. “You don’t understand how evil it is. You can’t stand here and discuss it! You owe it to Lisette!”

“Lisette,” Tiana whispered and remembered the feeling of being confined to her big toe, remembered rising like a wildfire to overpower the wind.

Then she remembered sobbing when her mother left her. She remembered a silver-eyed cloud finding her among her nightmares and giving her a reason to come out again.

Kiar was looking around the atrium anxiously, but now she called, “Tiana, there’s more you should know—” Tiana held up her hand and Kiar stopped.

She addressed Lisette again. “I feel so nice now. I bet this is going to hurt.” Lisette moved her head warily, and Tiana could see Cathay sloshing closer to her from the corner of her eye. She held out her hand to Lisette. “Jinriki the Darkener, leave my friend and come to me.” The burning on her head intensified.

Then everything happened at once. Cathay pushed on her shoulders as the Magister said, “Oh dear,” and Kiar said, “Oh, no!” Lisette relaxed into a huddled pile, blinking rapidly. An awful tearing sound filled the atrium.

Tiana had a dim sense of something invisible happening around her, but that was swiftly overwhelmed by the pain in her head. It felt like somebody was applying a brand and at the same time, Cathay was pushing her down, trying to immerse her.

“No, stop it, Cathay…,” she panted, but he wasn’t listening, and he was too strong. Her emanations flickered around her. She
pushed
with them and flung Cathay away. She tried to aim him at some water; he was just trying to help her, after all. He thought she didn’t understand, but he was the one who didn’t understand. The sword was a lens and a channel and they would need him to fight the Blight. But he was also a soul, and she could
not
leave him alone in the dark, more alone than she had ever been.