Phoenix Ascendant - eARC (31 page)

Chapter 48

Tobimar was momentarily speechless, stunned by the sight of the golden-haired Light of Kaizatenzei and the arrayed Colors, Hues, and Shades behind her, people he had not expected to see again for months, perhaps
years
.

Then the paralysis of startlement broke, and he sprang forward, for once beating Kyri by a step, and caught Miri up in his arms, swung her around, laughing, to have both of them grabbed in Kyri’s crushing embrace. “Miri, what in the name of the Infinite are you doing here? We thought—”

“—that we were too busy rebuilding Kaizatenzei?” she finished. “Yes, we thought that at first too. And then one day, I looked up at the same time Shae did, and we both knew what we were thinking: that you’d saved our country—saved
us
—and we’d sent you off to face
Viedraverion
without so much as one Shade to help.”

“But that made perfect sense, Miri!” Kyri said, easing up on the hug but still holding the diminuitive Light’s hand. “You—”

“It made sense, but it was
wrong
!” Miri said bluntly. “Our hearts should have known—
did
know—better. So what if rebuilding the city took a little longer? The greatest threats were
gone
thanks to you, and we’d given you
nothing
! So once we realized that, we called for twenty-five of the Unity Guard to volunteer to come on a fast march through the Pass of Night to your aid, and of course every single one of the Guard volunteered. And so I chose my twenty-five—”

“Twenty-
six
,” said a calm, precise, hissing voice. “For you could not persuade me
not
to come.”

“Hiriista!”
Poplock sprang from Tobimar’s shoulder with such force he was momentarily staggered, and Hiriista caught up the Toad, hissing and rippling his crest in delight.
How strange to see a
mazakh
and a Toad so happy to see each other. And how wonderful
. Once Poplock had jumped to the Magewright’s shoulder, Tobimar stepped up and grasped Hiriista’s claws and bowed. “We’re glad to see you too, as you can see.”

Kyri followed suit, laughing. “This is
wonderful
, Hiriista, Miri,” she looked behind, saw others they had seen, and some they hadn’t, but all smiling, all overjoyed to have found the ones they sought. “…
all
of you, how wonderful and welcome!”

Miri laughed as well. “As I was saying, I gathered them all and we came as fast as we could, to help if you needed it, to congratulate you if you didn’t, and,” she looked momentarily grim, “to avenge you if you were beyond help.”

She brightened again. “But obviously that didn’t happen, and since you came so swiftly at our approach, I venture a guess that you have either defeated your enemy, or found no good way to—”

She broke off with a gasp, as Jeridan Velion rode swiftly up on his sithigorn, the sound of many other feet in the distance heralding the approach of Evanwyl’s Eyes and Arms.

Miri’s blades were in her hands, and she began to shimmer.
“You!”

Tobimar flung himself between the startled Watchland and the furious Light of Kaizatenzei. “No, wait,
wait
, Miri! This is not our enemy!”

She paused, then glanced from him to Phoenix, who nodded; Miri then returned her stare to the Watchland. “You are not Viedraverion?”

“I am not the one who was using that name, no,” Jeridan said. “Though I was a pawn of his, and he used my face when it suited him.”

Miri gave a sigh of relief. Her knives returned to their sheaths, and a rattling whisper of blades caused Tobimar to look up in surprise. The entire force of twenty-five Unity Guards was sheathing its weapons as well, and Hiriista was letting one of his many jeweled bangles drop back to his chest; they must have all drawn at the same moment as Miri. “That is well, then. We have come too late to aid you in the battle, but it seems you needed no aid.” She paused, tilted her head. “You said ‘the one who was using that name’; do you mean to say that it was
not
Viedraverion? I assure you, I knew Viedra quite well.”

“Oh, you could have known him better than his father and it
still
wouldn’t have done you any good,” Poplock said. “since it was the Werewolf King doing the playacting.”

The color drained completely from Miri’s face. She wavered, half-fell—would have fallen, Tobimar thought, if Kyri hadn’t caught her. “The
Lightslayer…
?” she said.

“Ahhh,” Hiriista breathed. “Yesss, of course, the Eater of Light, the Hunter Unseen.
That
makes sense of your entire story!”

But Tobimar was more concerned with Miri, who was shaking, eyes wide, filled with terror and revulsion. “Miri? Miri, what
is
it?”

“
I saw him!
” she said, voice breaking with remembered horror. “In the castle…when I went to get the mirror! He was
waiting
for me, talked with me, trapped me with his power, making me
forget
everything, so I couldn’t reveal the clues…”

Kyri hugged her, as the others gathered around. “We know what he was like, now. We faced him and defeated him, but it was a
very
near thing, Miri. I would rather have faced Sanamaveridion again, once I realized what he truly was.”

“Second that,” Poplock said, hopping down and sitting on the still-shivering Light’s lap. “Believe me, he’s the scariest thing I have ever,
ever
seen. You didn’t have a
chance
if you didn’t know what you were up against.”

The Toad glanced up at Hiriista. “Hmm. But if he could
act
through that mirror…”

“…that implies that the mirrors have even more capabilities than we suspected. A secure communications method, yes. Open to mental, magical, or verbal communication, yes. But I did not think they could be used as gateways.”

Miri forced herself to her feet; color was slowly returning. “They can; I can recall it now very clearly.” She looked up, gripping Phoenix’s arm. “You’re
sure
he is defeated? Not waiting, not—”

Tobimar touched her shoulder. Those who didn’t
know
Miri—and the Werewolf King—might mistake her current behavior for weakness, but Tobimar remembered that blank-glowing crystal smile and knew it was anything but. “We were assured that the war was over by Konstantin Khoros himself.”

Miri blinked. “By my Father…
Khoros
was here, too?”

“The whole thing was a battlesquares competition between a
lot
of sides,” Poplock said. “But hey, instead of standing around outside, why don’t we all go back to the Watchland’s? If,” the Toad said with an offhand glance at Jeridan, “that’s okay with you.”

“I have not been properly introduced,” the Watchland said, sliding down from his sithigorn and letting the giant bird stride a ways off. “Welcome, travelers, to Evanwyl. I am Jeridan Velion, Watchland, nominal ruler of this country. Who are you that grace our land with your presence?”

Miri straightened, and her smile held much of its usual brilliance as she then did her spread-armed bow. “I am Miri, Light of Kaizatenzei, emissary of Lady Shae, the Lady of Light and our ruler. This is Hiriista, finest Magewright of the land, and these are others of the Unity Guard, whom I will introduce in detail later.”

“I have already heard much of you, Light Miri, and we are honored to receive you here. As our friend and mighty hero Poplock suggests, let us return to my home, where your people can refresh themselves, partake of my table, and find lodging appropriate to your station and your mission. We were in fact in the midst of hearing the account of Kyri’s victory when you arrived.”

“We would be most honored to do so,” Miri said formally, then waved to the Unity Guard. “Come on, everyone! We’ve missed the war, but it looks like we’re still in time for the celebration!”

“Tonight’s just a little private meeting,” Tobimar said as they started off towards the Watchland’s fortress. “
Tomorrow
or the day after, pretty much all of Evanwyl’s going to be at the party, though.”

“And you and your people are of course invited,” Kyri said immediately. “The celebration will be at Vantage Fortress.”

“Vantage…but that would be
your
home, yes?” Miri said with a puzzled tone. “Surely the others would be—”

“Unless I miss my guess, Light Miri,
you
know our Kyri well enough to guess why,” Jeridan said, echoing Tobimar’s own thoughts.

Miri looked at her friend with narrowed eyes that still twinkled with mirth. “Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. You’re far too
uncomfortable
with people celebrating you being a hero, so you want to celebrate
them
instead!”

“Well, it’s not that I’m…
uncomfortable
…”

“Lessee,” Poplock said. “You would’ve run straight out of Jenten’s Mill if they hadn’t basically asked you to help found a Temple of Myrionar. Lady Shae practically had to beg you to do the service for Tanvol and the others. We ducked out of every other town we helped pretty much as fast as you could make your excuses. Either you’re really uncomfortable with the idea of being called a hero, or you’re afraid they’re gonna catch you stealing the silverware.”

Everyone burst out laughing; even Kyri joined in after a moment of looking mortified. “Oh, all right,
yes
, it’s completely embarrassing. I don’t feel any different than anyone else!”

“Which is nigh-inexplicable to most others,” Hiriista said. “And, also, very likely the reason that you
are
a hero.”

“But it
is
a somewhat unusual trait in an adventurer,” Tobimar mused. “Most of us may not want to be constantly paraded around, true, but we all look forward to the cheers and celebration when we’ve done our jobs well.”

Kyri nodded at that. “Put that way, it
is
odd, I guess. I remember my daydreams of being a Guilded Adventurer, and there certainly were scenes of the people cheering me after I’d put down one of the Nine Kings or something like that.”

“Reality has a way of being rather different—in ways both good and bad—from our dreams,” Jeridan said, leading his sithigorn rather than riding it so he could speak with them on the level. “And I will be the first to admit that your position in this case is vastly different than that of an ordinary adventurer, and the stakes were…a bit higher than most.”

The mention of
different
reminded Tobimar of something he’d been trying to avoid thinking about.
Different indeed
.
Kyri…in a very real sense isn’t
Kyri
anymore. She’s a god now, and I can’t believe that this won’t change her.

Will it change
us
too?

Tobimar tried to push those questions aside.
God or not, she’s still Kyri. At least now. And by asking these questions, I might be changing
myself
. Do I want to lose her because I’m asking foolish questions?

But on the other hand…were the questions foolish? There were reasons that people worshipped gods and not other people, in general. He stole a glance at Kyri, talking animatedly with Miri, then remembered the transcendant look in Myrionar’s gray eyes.
Maybe foolish. Maybe not. But by the Light, try not to dwell on it!

The doors of the Watchland’s Fortress opened as they approached, a glow of cheerful light making a golden pathway leading them inside. “Welcome again, all of you. Rest and refresh yourselves, and prepare for a true celebration on the morrow,” Jeridan said. “A celebration now not merely of victory over evil, but of a meeting with friends from the pass that before has shown us only evil; may this be an auspicious omen indeed.”

He raised his voice. “Samni!
Samni!
Apologies to all, and there will be double pay for this night, for we have
twenty-seven
honored guests arriving from beyond Rivendream this night, and I want them to appreciate the hospitality of the Watchland!”

As they approached, they saw Samni raising one of her white eyebrows. “Twenty-seven? On the road through
that
? They’ll want baths and rooms
and
food, and all of it quickly. Thrice pay, I think.”

“You know best how to keep the household running. Thrice, then.”

She bowed, and immediately turned, striding inside, her voice carrying with the authority of a Master of House. “No rest yet, all of you! Guests such as we’ve never had, and we’ll outdo ourselves! Thrice pay, and I want at least thrice the speed and thrice the service!”

Tobimar forced his useless musings away, smiled to hear the enthusiastic response from within. “You have a fine household, Jeridan.”

“I do, the finest in the land I would hope. Except that of Vantage Fortress, not for lack of trying; I simply couldn’t entice either Vanstell nor Lythos to come here.”

“You old fraud,” Poplock said. “You wouldn’t replace Samni for anything, and Vanstell wouldn’t know what to
do
as anything but a Master of House.”

Jeridan laughed. “Your words are as true as they are sharp.” He turned and bowed at the threshold. “Enter, all of you, and be welcome.”

Chapter 49

“Good night, thank you
so
much for coming!” Kyri said for what seemed the thousandth time.

The door finally closed behind Minuzi and Arbiter Kelsley, and Kyri breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s all of them.”

“Well, all except our little group,” Poplock said. His voice was somewhat muffled as he was currently stuffing a silverpeach slice into his mouth.

Tobimar stared at the little Toad. “Sand and
wind
, Poplock, are you still
eating
? I swear, you’re either going to explode or turn into a ball.”

“Hey, this is good stuff. I’m making up for the months on the road. You weren’t exactly holding back tonight either,” the little Toad answered, bouncing to Tobimar’s shoulder.

Kyri stopped, looking into the huge banquet hall. “Oh,
Balance
, it’s such a mess.” She started in.

“Young lady, you go right to your friends in the family hall,” Vanstell said. “This isn’t the first party we’ve cleaned up after, nor even the twentieth. I appreciate your desire to help, but I am not that decrepit yet, and I’m not alone. Treidi and Riderin are already at work, and we hired the Fandre brothers a few weeks ago, if you recall.” As if on cue, he raised his gaze to a medium-sized young man with dark, curly hair who was cleaning up the table. “Raltu! Do
not
try to overdo it, young man! Better to make five trips and break no dishes than three trips and break five!”

“Come on, Kyri,” Tobimar said, putting his arm around her. “Let the man do his job.”

She leaned against him as they walked. “
Balance
, this is going to be a long, long day.”

“It was a long day by the time the sun rose,” Poplock said. “What with getting this banquet prepared and all. It’s only been a day and a half since you went to burn out the Curse and we ended up chasing Aran to the end of our quest.”

As they reached the room, they saw Hittuma—the former Bolthawk—and Aran standing outside the door. The two knelt as she approached.

“Aran, Hittuma, why are you out here instead of in there?”

“Because you have not yet finished laying your commands upon us, Myr—”

“
Please
don’t call me that!” Kyri said earnestly.

“But it
is
who you are,” Aran said. “Do you expect us to forget it? Forget what we
saw
?”

“I…” She glanced at Tobimar, but he could see she sensed that he had his own questions in that area. “No, I guess not. But I am still Kyri Vantage, too, and the Phoenix. Call me Phoenix, and that’s close enough, for I was also the rebirth of Myrionar.”

“Phoenix, then,” Hittuma said. “You have not yet finished laying your commands upon us, Phoenix, and…and I find that I do not wish to wait. I felt the eyes of the people upon me, and while they mostly withheld their open scorn, I could see that they only tolerated me for your sake.”

As she began to speak, he continued, “I
know
this is deserved. I knew what I would see, and indeed there was less hatred shown me than I deserve. But I would have your commands upon me, that I might know my path.”

Tobimar hid a smile; others might not be able to tell, but he could see that Kyri wasn’t at all ready for this; understandably, she hadn’t given the issue much thought in the past couple of days.

“Is there another reason?”

Hittuma Thorvalyn nodded. “I have lost my brother and friend. Skyharrier and I were almost as were Condor and Shrike. I have heard his screams in my dreams, and I have no stomach for celebrations now. We served evil, and we knew what we served, and still I wish it could have ended differently.”

“So do I, Hittuma,” Kyri said quietly.

Aran stood. “I have a…suggestion as to how we might start, if you would hear it?”

Kyri looked at him gratefully. “Of course, Aran. Does it have to do with where you went this morning?”

“Yes,” Aran said. “I went to the Retreat and searched the area; you renewed the Retreat itself,” and his eyes echoed Tobimar’s own awe at that memory, “but other remains of the battle…were still there.

“I have recovered the Raiments: my own, of course, Bolthawk’s, but also that of Skyharrier, Silver Eagle, Mist Owl and,” his voice broke but continued, “Sh-Shrike. Thornfalcon’s is held in the Watchland’s vault.

“I would propose, then, that our first quest be to seek out the Spiritsmith and give him the tainted Raiments, that they be either destroyed or purified.”

Kyri’s brows rose, and then she smiled. “That is well-thought, Aran. With the war over, the Spiritsmith will return to his forge, and reaching his forge will, itself, be a trial. The Spiritsmith may himself require something of you also, simply for intruding on his forge with uninvited presences. If so, you will accept whatever commands he places upon you. Afterwards, you will return to me, and we shall see what other expiation will be in store for you.”

There was no question of
whether
there would be more. While Aran was forgiven, he had chosen to share Bolthawk’s fate, as the only other of the former Justiciars still living, and Bolthawk had been a false Justiciar even longer than Condor.

“It shall be done. But…” Hittuma hesitated, and then dropped to his knees once more, “I ask of you one boon, M— Phoenix.”

She looked surprised, but nodded. “You may ask.”

“Aran has retrieved the Raiments…but the remains of our fallen comrades he has left behind, for we knew not what should be done with them. I ask…I beg of you that they not be cast aside as worthless husks but given a proper sending, however you might say it should be done.”

Tobimar was startled. “Kyri?”

Her face was a shade paler; she looked at Aran, who swallowed but nodded. “Aran…you even left your father there?”

“They were all traitors to the Balanced Sword,” he answered, voice rough but no accusation in his eyes. “It was not for me to judge whether they deserved, or could ever receive, forgiveness even in death. Only
you
can judge that.”

She beckoned to Tobimar, and they moved a ways down the hall, leaving the two former Justiciars to wait. “Tobimar, what do I do?”

“Why are you asking me? Terian’s
Light
, you
are
Myrionar, Kyri! You have to accept that these kind of questions
are
your problem!”

“But…” she chewed her lip, thinking. “they were in service to Virigar. There’s nothing to have a service
for
in that case.”

“Maybe not,” Poplock said. “They turned on him, and he dumped ’em. They lost their powers. Maybe that means he didn’t get their spirits. Shrike hadn’t died quite before Voory chased us out of the room, and he’d sure made
his
position clear.”

“I can’t believe we’re advising a god as to how to deal with the dead,” Tobimar muttered. “Even if she wasn’t a god before. Kyri, don’t you
know
how to handle this?”

She gave a nervous giggle. “I…sort of do, and sort of don’t. It’s not like I was given a bunch of training in whatever gods
do
, and really, I’m a new-born god. However Myrionar handled it before, I’m going to have to figure it out myself, because
that
version of Myrionar
ended
then. Now I have to live on into the future and someday when I know how, I go back and close the loop. Maybe. I don’t think even
that
is guaranteed, somehow.”

“Voorith might have tried to grab at least one or two of their souls, but he got kinda interrupted by Blackwart,” Poplock said, continuing his train of thought. “And at the end, Virigar was fighting for his life, so I’m pretty sure he didn’t have the
chance
to go grabbing for people who were dead or dying.”

“You’re saying that their souls just might still be waiting on the threshold, and if I don’t do
something
, they could get taken by something else. Or start wandering, go revenant, that kind of thing.”

“Kyri…the conditions under which they died were horrific. Tailor-made to cause something very bad to happen if their souls don’t get to move on in some manner,” Tobimar said.

She was silent a moment, then looked at him with her gray eyes wide and serious. “Tobimar…what would you think if—”

“Stop.” He held up his hand. “You’re
Myrionar
. Maybe you don’t know all of what that means, but
you
have to make your decision. Don’t base it on what
I
—or anyone else—will think. You are the judge. And
only
you, for things having to do with your temple and faith, and if this isn’t about your temple and your faith and your people…I don’t know what is.”

She looked at him, and then nodded her head slowly. With a deep breath, she turned around and strode back to the others. “Hittuma Thorvalyn, I will grant you—and Aran Shrikeson—this boon,” she said, and her voice shook the hall; silver, gold, and sapphire light shimmered about her, and even Tobimar was seized with a momentary impulse to kneel.

Kyri—Myrionar—went on: “Your comrades—Shrike, Mist Owl, Skyharrier, and Silver Eagle—fell defending their friends and fighting against my greatest enemy, no longer in service to the power that ensnared them. In the name of Mercy, I give you leave to have them sent on in My name, and if their spirits still linger, they shall come to the Fortress Beyond and I shall judge them fairly.”

Bolthawk and Aran both bowed to the ground, and Bolthawk said, with a trembling voice, “Thank you, Phoenix.”

She knelt before them, and the fearsome majesty was gone. Only Kyri Vantage reached out and took their hands. “You’ve lost your father twice, Aran. Go put him to rest. And Bolthawk—Hittuma—send your friends to a far better place. No matter how they may be judged…it
will
be better than what he would have given them.”

“Aye,” Hittuma said, voice still unsteady. He gripped her hand tightly. “As Shrike would have said, aye, that it will, even if you send them to dark judgment indeed. I thank your mercy…the same mercy my little sister always had.”

He stood suddenly and bowed. Without another word, he set off down the hall, face working; Tobimar saw tears as the Child of Odin passed him. Aran pressed Kyri’s hand once more, bowed to Tobimar, and hurried after his friend.

Kyri shook her head. “I don’t
feel
so different…except when I do. Tobimar, how am I supposed to handle this?”

Tobimar tried to laugh, failed miserably. Instead, he just stared at her silently for a moment. Finally, he said, “How am
I
supposed to handle it? I love you, Kyri Vantage, Phoenix, but can a mortal man love a god?”

Kyri opened her mouth, but she, too, fell silent. For long moments they stared at each other, and Tobimar felt a chill fall over him. She didn’t know the answer any more than he did.

A loud snort made them both jump. “Oh,
mudbubbles
, both of you. Gods fall in love with mortals
all the time
,” Poplock said with exasperation. “Look at Aegeia; they say half the population can trace their ancestry back to one or the gods or another! Blackwart’s
NAME,
look at your own family, Tobimar—how do you think Terian’s blood ended up
in
your family line?”

Poplock bounced on Tobimar’s head hard enough to stun him, leapt to Kyri’s shoulder and smacked her gently in the side of the head. “Stop
worrying
about these things, you two. You aren’t different people, you’ve just got different powers and some new problems, and you really just need to stop overthinking this!”

And suddenly the nebulous fear that had held him since he first saw the Phoenix become the Balanced Sword lifted, and he laughed, and saw her laughing, laughing so hard that suddenly she had to lean against the wall.

“Oh…ohhhhh, Tobimar, ow, my ribs, that hurts…” she finally gasped. “But…once again…”

He reached out and embraced her. “Yes, once again…we should just do what the Toad says.”