Red Hood's Revenge (20 page)

Yasar removed his helm, revealing a childlike face with a green pallor. He bowed to Uf’uyan before stepping down from the dais.

Uf’uyan beckoned them to follow as he slid toward the back of the church. Fog and illusion concealed whatever truly lay beyond the doorway. For all Talia knew, Zestan herself might wait for them. She glanced at Snow, who shrugged.

“I can’t see through it,” Snow said softly. “Not without using a lot more magic than I’d like.”

So be it. Bracing herself, Talia followed Father Uf’uyan into the mist.

 

Roudette felt the glamours closing around her the instant she stepped through the doorway. On the other side, a glassy bridge stretched before her. Far beneath the bridge she could see mountains of green crystal, the fabled home of the peri. Iridescent clouds drifted above and below. Will-o’-the-wisps danced about like flaming mosquitoes. Roudette fought the urge to swat them all.

Instead, she dug beneath the hiqab robe, pulling up the hood of her cape. As she tugged the fur-lined hood over her head, the illusions faded, and she saw instead a wide hallway with walls of square-cut stone.

Sweat dripped down her face. Her cape was warm enough, and with the added weight of the hiqab, she felt ready to melt. She found herself panting slightly as she walked. How easy it would be to throw off this ridiculous robe and slay the naga right here. Cut his throat and silence his damned lies.

Uf’uyan led them into a large room. Finely woven carpet, dyed deep blue and gold, covered the floor. Images of the nine prophets adorned the back wall. Caged rats scurried about in one corner. Snacks, Roudette guessed. Uf’uyan’s face might appear human, but his appetite was fey.

A low desk sat against the opposite wall. Nooks in the stones held scrolls and small books. There were no windows, making the room feel cramped despite its size. Coals glowed in a hammered copper brazier in the center of the room, adding to the stuffy warmth. No doubt it was comfortable for a snake.

Uf’uyan shut a heavy wooden door behind them, then made his way to a circular basket padded with blankets. He curled his body into the basket, leaning his back against the wall as he studied Talia. A wave of his hand raised flames from the brazier. “You seem familiar to me.”

Talia’s sword seemed to leap into her hand. “I came here before, years ago, with Sister Faziya of the Temple of the Hedge.”

“So we’re not worrying about subtlety this time?” Snow asked.

Uf’uyan glanced at Snow. He didn’t appear worried, but who could read the mind of a snake? “Your friends aren’t from Arathea, are they?”

Roudette yanked the hiqab from her body so violently the material tore. She pushed back her hood and pulled out her own weapon, twirling the hammer through the air. The red cape earned a longer look from Uf’uyan. “No games, naga.”

“I recognize you,” he said. This time Roudette could smell his fear. He inclined his head slightly. “Will you grant me time to pray, first?”

“I didn’t come here to kill you,” said Talia.

“Maybe
you
didn’t.” Roudette advanced toward the fairy priest. “Tell us where to find Zestan-e-Jheg.”

“Or what?” Uf’uyan asked. “You’ll kill me?” He laughed. “Strike then, Red Hood. Return me to Heaven.”

Talia caught her arm. “Not yet.” Stepping between Roudette and Uf’uyan, she said, “Faziya came here asking about the Wild Hunt. What happened to her?”

“Faziya was a kind woman,” said Uf’uyan. “Until last night, few people cared about the Wild Hunt’s raids on the Kha’iida. The settled people of the cities have turned their backs on their desert brothers. Many were secretly grateful to the Hunt. They hear rumors of Kha’iida raids, of children being stolen and caravans robbed, and they begin to believe Arathea would be better off without its ‘savage’ children of the sands.”

“Lies,” Talia said. “Kha’iida warriors used to raid neighboring tribes, but only to hone their skills and prove their superiority over their neighbors. Where’s the challenge in raiding a caravan of soft, spoiled merchants?”

Uf’uyan studied Talia more closely. “Like all things, the place of the Kha’iida has changed, particularly in recent years. But you remember those times, don’t you, Princess? I should have guessed your identity from your scent. The curse lingers in your blood.”

Talia beckoned Snow closer. “Can anyone else hear us in this place?”

Snow pointed to the brazier. “Roudette’s cape obscures it, but someone has been trying to eavesdrop.”

Uf’uyan chuckled. “Father Yasar. Hoping to learn the hidden secrets of the church, that he might rise to the rank of bishop. He’ll surpass me soon enough, I suspect. I’m afraid the church tends to reward ambition over faith these days.”

“You said the place of the Kha’iida has changed,” Talia said.

Uf’uyan lowered his body. “Our fault, at least in part. As more of Arathea turns to the church, there is less tolerance for those who reject it.”

Roudette spat. “You mean they reject fairy rule, so you turn Arathea against them. Will Zestan send the Hunt against all who refuse to worship her, then?”

“What have we done to you?” Uf’uyan asked. “How have I earned such hatred?”

Roudette didn’t answer. She remembered the screams of the dying, her own small hands digging through splintered boards and crushed stone. The cape fanned her rage, until it was all she could do to restrain herself from smashing Uf’uyan and this entire mockery of a church. “I’ve seen what your kind truly believe.”

“All who judge must also face judgment, child.” The calmness of his voice made Roudette want to strangle him. “The Wild Hunt kills because it is their nature. You kill because you enjoy it, targeting whomever you’re paid to hunt.”

“I enjoy some jobs more than others.” Roudette clutched her hammer with both hands, the leather grip creaking beneath her fingers.

Uf’uyan leaned toward Talia. “I will try to help you, as I did Faziya.”

“Then tell us where to find Zestan,” Roudette demanded.

“She has never deigned to visit Jahrasima in person. She works through her servants, human and fairy alike.”

Roudette spat. “Servants like you.”

“Zestan’s influence is strong, but not everyone believes as she does.” Uf’uyan smiled. “I’ve even heard rumors that it was a priest of the church who warned Queen Lakhim of the fairy plot against her.”

“What of Faziya?” asked Talia. “Where did you send her?”

“I told her to return to the temple,” he said with no hesitation. “She refused. She spoke instead of the raikh.”

“Rajil.” Talia’s expression was sour. “Will she know how to find Zestan?”

“I couldn’t say.” Uf’uyan sighed. “There are rumors she follows Zestan, seeing her as the savior of Arathea. If Faziya went to her . . .”

Roudette twisted her hammer in her hands, unable to stand another moment of that oily voice. “What do you gain from betraying your mistress, serpent?”

He actually laughed. “What could I possibly hope to gain for myself when you mean to kill me? I serve one master, and I help you because it’s my duty to do so.” He pointed to the desk. “Please bring me the scroll with the faded green ribbon.”

Snow walked over to pick up the indicated scroll, studying it before handing it over.

Uf’uyan unrolled the parchment to show an image of green mountains beneath a cloudless blue sky. The paint appeared cracked, lines running through the mountains. “Do you know what this is?”

“I do.” Roudette had seen similar illustrations growing up, though none had been as elaborately painted. “The church preaches that the fairy race fell to our world in Arathea, far to the south. The first fairy hill was no mound of earth ringed by toadstools, but a great mountain of green crystal containing all of your magic and power.”

Snow studied the parchment. “They say the peri retreated to the mountain after banishing the deev, that they remain there to this day.”

“Waiting to return to Heaven,” Uf’uyan said. “Look more closely.” He touched the cracks where the paint had flaked away. Instead of stained parchment, the missing paint revealed black shadows. “It’s said that if the faith of Arathea should fail, the peri’s home will crumble, and the deev will emerge from their underground prison.”

“Your point?” Roudette asked.

Uf’uyan picked up the torn remains of the scroll. “I believe Zestan-e-Jheg is a deev.”

“I
MPOSSIBLE.” TALIA SEARCHED UF’UYAN’S face for any hint of deception. Deev were monsters from childhood stories, nightmares hiding in the dark rooms of the palace where Talia and her siblings dared one another to go. “The deev were imprisoned, guarded by fairy magic and mortals both.”

“And what mortals were assigned that duty?” Uf’uyan asked.

Talia pressed her lips together. “The Kha’iida.”

“I hope I’m wrong. For if one deev can escape, others could follow.”

“Did you tell Faziya of your suspicions?” Talia asked.

“It was Faziya who planted the idea. We spoke of the Hunt’s attacks on Kha’iida tribes. She grew emotional, denouncing the Hunt’s cruelty, calling them no better than the deev. I asked if that might not be truer than we realized. She left shortly thereafter.”

“If she believed Zestan to be deev, she had no choice.” Talia glanced at the others. Snow’s brow was wrinkled, and Danielle looked lost. Switching tongues, Talia did her best to explain. “The deev were always stronger than the peri. According to the stories, the only reason the peri won their war is because we helped them. Peri magic created champions. Each tribe sent forth their strongest warriors. The peri enchanted those men, making them strong enough to face even the most powerful fairy. Each fighter received a weapon crafted to slay the deev. Those weapons have been passed down to this day. The peri won, but they weren’t able to destroy the deev. Instead, they trapped the deev deep in the earth. The peri retreated to the mountains, leaving the tribes to watch for the deev’s return.”

“The Kha’iida?” Snow asked.

Talia nodded. “In old Arathean, the word Kha’iida means oath keeper: those who swore to guard this world against the deev.”

“That’s why Zestan has been sending the Wild Hunt against them,” Danielle said.

“Every Kha’iida is a threat to her.” Including Faziya.

Uf’uyan coiled and uncoiled his tail, the naga version of pacing. “The raikh keeps a fairy garden atop her mansion, tended by magic and inhabited by creatures from every corner of this world. I’ve seen it many a time, back before Rajil renounced my teachings in favor of Zestan. Her menagerie . . . those are not the shapes they were born to.”

Snow was whispering to Danielle, summarizing the conversation. She paused to ask, “You think Faziya was transformed?”

“Fairy magic,” Uf’uyan said. “Performed by Rajil’s adviser.”

“And you did nothing.” Talia was beginning to wish she had let Roudette finish off the priest.

“I’m not permitted to interfere with Siqkhab,” Uf’uyan said. “Human law is Rajil’s domain.”

“Talia.” Danielle’s voice was gentle, the way it always was when she was about to say something infuriating. “You have to warn Queen Lakhim.”

“Warn her of what?” Talia demanded. “That she should stop hunting me and search for a deev?” She whirled. “If Zestan is so damned powerful, why bother with me and my curse? Why not destroy Queen Lakhim herself?”

“The deev were strong,” Uf’uyan said. “Perhaps too strong. Like the peri, they relied on force, never mastering the intricacies of magic. A deev’s power could sink Lakhim’s palace into the earth, but such power would also reveal Zestan. Can you imagine the response should Arathea learn of her presence? It would unite all Arathea against her.”

“Which is precisely why you should warn Queen Lakhim,” Danielle said. “She has to know the truth.”

“Lakhim was never interested in truth.” Talia grabbed the scroll. “We’re going to the raikh’s mansion.”

Roudette straightened, raising her hammer in both hands. “What of him?”

Father Uf’uyan bowed. “I’ve told you all I can. My soul is ready.”

“No,” said Danielle.

“You can’t afford to leave me alive,” Uf’uyan said. “I understand, and you have my forgiveness.”

“He’s right.” Talia raised her sword. “Even if I trusted him not to betray us, fairy magic could rip our secrets from his mind. The risk—”

“So we bring him with us.” Danielle smiled as she studied the cage with Uf’uyan’s mice. “He’ll need to be smaller, of course.”

 

Snow patted the mouse in her pouch. “Don’t worry. The spell should wear off in a day or two.” Hopefully they would be long gone from Jahrasima by then.

She barely noticed the fairy illusions as Talia led them back through the tunnel. The church was mostly empty, save for a handful of people lost in silent prayer. The children who had carried the statues earlier were now busy sweeping the floors.