The Daylight War (28 page)

Ten
years
she
laboured,

At
Everam’s will,

Until
the
demon
lord
himself
could
not
touch
the
thoughts
of
Kaji,

Nor
approach
if
the
Shar’Dama Ka did not will it.

With
these
treasures, Kaji became the most feared of all warriors,

And
the
cowardly
princes
of
Nie

Fled
the
field
whenever
he
drew
the
folds
of
his
cloak.’

Qeva nodded as Inevera finished, gesturing to the workbench the
nie’dama’ting
had gathered around, where bowls of metal filings were arranged, ready to be melted down. ‘Precious metals conduct magic better than base ones. Silver is better than copper, gold better than silver. But the transfer is never perfect. There is always loss.’

She looked at Inevera. ‘What is more precious than gold?’

Inevera hesitated, though she knew better than to look to the other girls around the workbench for aid. At last she shook her head. ‘Apologies, Dama’ting. I do not know.’

Qeva chuckled. ‘You might truly be your namesake reborn if you did. The Damajah, blessings be upon her, gave us many secrets in her holy verses. But in her wisdom, she kept others still in her mind lest they be stolen by her rivals. Now many are lost to the millennia. The wards of unsight, the powers of the spear and crown, and the sacred metal.’

She took up a bowl. ‘And so we begin our lessons with copper …’

Weeks passed, and Inevera found herself standing before a silvered glass, drawing wards around her eyes in soft pencil. She had practised the sigils a thousand times, as they were in the Evejah’ting, and inverted, as she must draw them in the mirror for full potency.

Some of the older girls, Melan and Asavi among them, had progressed beyond pencil, wearing delicate circlets of warded coins across their brows, but Inevera’s first circlet was still a clinking collection of unfinished coins and gold wire in a pouch at her waist.

Qeva inspected her closely when she was finished drawing, holding her chin in a firm grasp and roughly turning her head this way and that. She said nothing, giving only a slight huff of satisfaction, but that breath meant more to Inevera than the most glowing compliment. If there had been the slightest flaw, the
dama’ting
would have announced it derisively to all and made her wash her face and draw anew.

Inevera felt a chill as the
dama’ting
touched a finger to a small bowl of black liquid. It looked like ink, but she would have known from the stench alone that it was the rendered ichor of demons.

It was warm when Qeva touched the barest smudge to her forehead, but it did not burn as Inevera feared. The spot tingled like static, and she could feel the magic crawling across her skin, drawn to the pencilled wards, dancing along their delicate lines.

And then her eyes came alive, and Inevera gasped for the wonder of it, her centre lost. The dim wardlight of the room was washed out by light from every corner, drifting across the floor and seeped in the walls, shining in the spirits of Qeva and the other girls. It was Everam’s light, the line of energy they reached for and drew upon each morning in
sharusahk
, the fire in their centre that gave life and power to all living things. It was the immortal soul.

And she could
see
it, as clearly as the sun.

‘Praise be to Everam in all his glory.’ Inevera fell to her knees, shaking as she wept for the joy and beauty of it.

‘Place your hands on the floor,’ Qeva said. ‘Let the tears fall free, lest they run through the pencil and rob you of the sight.’

Inevera immediately fell forward, terrified of losing this precious gift. Her tears spattered the stone floor, sending tiny whorls through the magic drifting up through the
ala
. She expected derision from Melan and the other girls, but there was only silence. Doubtless they had all been as overwhelmed as she when they first saw Everam’s light.

When her convulsions eased, Qeva dropped a silk kerchief to the floor and Inevera carefully dabbed her eyes. The other girls stared silently at her as she rose.

Qeva pointed to a stone pedestal, its smooth surface carved with dozens of wards, some covered in smooth stones. Inevera had seen the
dama’ting
use the pedestal to control light and temperature in the chamber, but the pattern was far too complex for her to comprehend.

But now, her eyes awash in Everam’s light, she could see the power as it moved through the net. The pattern that had been a mystery a moment before was clear now, a child’s puzzle easily solved.

‘Dim the lights,’ Qeva commanded. ‘We will not need them for this lesson.’

Inevera immediately complied, shifting the polished stones to other positions, and removing others entirely, setting them in a small basin.

Immediately the wardlight dimmed, but Inevera’s vision only sharpened, an unneeded glare removed, allowing her to see even more clearly in Everam’s light.

‘The wardsight will be invaluable to you as you learn our craft,’ Qeva said. ‘It is forbidden only in the deep cells of the Chamber of Shadows where you carve your dice.’

Months passed, and Inevera’s studies consumed her. She woke to
sharusahk
,
assisted
dama’ting
in the healing, and attended regular classes in history, warding, potions, jewellery making, singing, dance, and seduction. The other girls continued to shun her, especially once they saw her carving wooden dice years ahead of many who had been born to the white.

And every night, Melan beat her, calling it
sharusahk
practice. Even after half a year, Qeva was not sufficiently pleased with Inevera’s
sharusahk
,
and Melan was still denied the Chamber of Shadows.

Each night Inevera slept alone with nothing save her Evejah’ting clutched to her breast as the other girls whispered to one another in the darkness, or shared beds and caresses. Even her dreams were haunted by the shapes of the seven dice that had ruled her life since the day of
Hannu
Pash
. She would have wept, but for fear that Melan and Asavi, always together in the bed next to her, would take pleasure in the sound of her sobbing.

Inevera stood proudly as Kenevah inspected the large bowls. There in the sand Inevera had drawn the most complex circles she had ever attempted. Each was made of forty-nine wards, all linked to work in unison. Between the bowls lay her practice box, a single ward drawn at its centre.

The wards were crisp and clear in the fine yellow sand, but Inevera’s warding had never truly been tested, and she had no way of knowing if they would hold power.

Qeva stood beside her mother, regarding the wards but saying nothing. She didn’t have to. That she had thought Inevera worthy to test for
hora
after less than two years spoke volumes. Next to Qeva stood Melan, her face serene as her eyes cut at Inevera.

At last Kenevah nodded. ‘Draw the curtains.’ Inevera did as she was bade, and the
Damaji’ting
drew a large demon bone from the thick velvet of her
hora
pouch. Inevera wondered how much
Sharum
blood had been spilled to collect that bone.

Inevera made a cradle of her hands, and Kenevah placed the priceless bit of
alagai
hora
in them. It was the first time she had ever touched demon bone, and though the Evejah’ting had told her what to expect, it was still an alien feeling, tingling with power and pulling at her blood as a lodestone might pull iron.

Carefully, reverently, she laid the bone atop the ward centred between the two bowls, and the wards began to glow softly, brightening as they drew power from the bone. They flared with a golden light even as the sand darkened in colour. The circles began to swirl. At first was a slow churn Inevera thought
she was imagining, but it grew faster, like whirlpools
in a
cookpot after vigorous stirring, flowing into one another
in a figure of eight.

The demon bone disappeared into the centre of that vortex, and there was a bright flash of light before the bowls went black. Colours danced before Inevera’s eyes in the darkness, leaving her dizzy and disorientated.

‘It is done,’ Kenevah said. ‘Open the curtains.’

Inevera stumbled through the darkened room more by memory than sight, finding the thick layers of curtain and drawing them back, flooding the room with light.

She returned to Kenevah and Qeva’s side, gasping as she saw the bowls, each sitting in a bright beam of sunlight. The sand within was gone, as was any sign of the demon bone laid between them. The bowl to the left was filled with clear water. The one to the right was filled with couscous, steaming and ready to eat.

In preparation for this trial, Inevera had fasted for six days, taking only one couzi cup of water each morning and one at night. Her throat was parched, and her stomach ached, hollow and sullen. It growled unexpectedly at the smell of the couscous.

Kenevah raised an eyebrow at the sound. ‘Your fast may soon be over.’ She handed Inevera a pair of ivory eating sticks, the handles capped with gold and jewels. ‘If you formed your wards precisely, a mere stickful of the food will fill your stomach …’ She produced a golden chalice encrusted with jewels, dipping it into the water and filling it. ‘… and the water will be the purest, sweetest draught you have ever tasted, quenching your thirst with but a sip.’

She looked at Inevera grimly. ‘If not … you will be dead within moments of either touching your tongue.’

Inevera felt a chill run down her spine. Her hand shook as she took the chalice. ‘Must I?’

Kenevah shook her head. ‘You can set them aside, but if you do, it may be years before I waste another
hora
on you – if I ever do.’

Inevera found her centre, and her fingers stopped shaking enough to steady the sticks. She reached out, lifting couscous smoothly to her mouth.

She chewed, and her eyes widened. The consuming hunger that had her stumbling on her feet vanished. Already, new strength was flooding through her limbs as she lifted the goblet and drank deeply.

Kenevah smiled as Inevera finished the cup, her eyes aglow. Indeed, she had never tasted water so sweet and refreshing. It was like a sip from Everam’s own river.

The
Damaji’ting
took the sticks and chalice from Inevera, passing them to Melan. The girl’s nostrils flared, and Inevera allowed herself a slight smirk. Short of dying at the taste, there was nothing Melan could do now to prevent Inevera gaining access to the Chamber of Shadows.