Burning Bright (24 page)

Raz flinched. "I’m sorry."

"We all do what we must for Pozhar," Krasny replied. "Thank you for cooperating and for helping to bring me Zholty. I apologize on his behalf."

Raz just nodded and picked up his teacup and drained it. He drew a breath, and then let it out slowly. Turning to Dym, he said, "Shall we, then? It's only late afternoon, plenty of time to prepare, I think?"

Dym looked sad—Ivan almost thought he looked heartbroken—but he only rose and offered Raz a hand. "Come with me, then."

Standing, Raz took his hand, but he lingered when Dym made to move toward the door. "Would you three come?" he asked, looking at Ivan, Shio, and Shinju.

"You want me to come?" Ivan asked, surprised by the request, yet saddened because Raz had lost his only real family when he'd lost Pechal. "I'd be honored."

Shio and Shinju only nodded, and Ivan realized they were too upset to speak. No one could fake those tears. Though he hated to show them any sort of lenience, he could not hold on to his entire grudge upon seeing the devastation written in their body language.

Raz smiled in parting and left the room, still holding Dym's hand. Ivan stared at the door as it closed after them. He turned to Krasny. "How in the fires do you deal with it?"

"You try to convince yourself it's the right thing, pray that it is, and try not to think about it otherwise," Krasny said quietly. He pushed back his chair and stood. "Come, we will find you suitable clothing for attending a sacrifice." He paused, and then added with a slight hint of smirk, "Your grace."

"Douse it. Your Majesty."

"I thought you would be the first to find me," Raz said quietly as they walked. He sounded so calm, Dym almost found it hard to believe that they were moments away from sacrificing Raz.

Dym looked at him, and then looked hastily away. "I—we were reluctant to hold a sacrifice so soon after Tsar Zarya died, and I assured Krasny that you would not be fleeing the country. We decided there was no harm, ultimately, in waiting for a time. There's been enough death lately, and Zholty will die tonight."

Raz said nothing, simply walked in silence alongside Dym, holding firmly to his hand though Dym tried twice to pull away. "Do you remember an apple tree?"

The words made Dym falter and stumble to a halt in the middle of the palace hall. He stared at Raz, his heart thudding in his chest. "You remember that?"

"I remember an apple tree. I remember singing. I remember you smiling."

Dym couldn't breathe. He hadn't thought Raz—Eminence—would remember the apple tree. Of all the memories to surface while he was a mortal … "I remember," Dym said. "It would be hard to forget that tree."

"It's still there, did you know that?"

"Of course," Dym replied. "I am the one who turned it into stone. No one but you could destroy it completely. Come on, we should not stand here gathering strange looks."

They walked the rest of the way to the cathedral in silence. Raz's steps slowed as he took in the beautiful windows, and Dym wondered what he saw, what else he remembered. He watched, stomach in knots, when Raz's gaze lingered on the one of a boy sleeping beneath an apple tree and did not dare wonder or hope at why the window made Raz smile faintly.

Dym hesitated, and then move to stand beside him and up at the window with him, longing and sadness nearly overwhelming him. Raz curled a hand around his upper arm, tugged him around, and reached up to kiss him softly. Dym stiffened against him, surprised. Raz pulled back and smiled faintly. "Stop worrying. After all this, everything will work out."

"Are you sure you want to do this? I will face the consequences if you prefer to remain as you are, Eminence."

Raz shook his head. "I'm not Eminence. Just Raz. I'm certain. What do we do to get ready?"

"This way," Dym said quietly, turning away and leading Raz into the back rooms of the Cathedral. For a moment, he was tempted to take Raz to his rooms, but he doused that idea before it could flare up. That would be inappropriate.

Reaching the chambers allotted to the Vessels, he unlocked the door and led the way inside. On the bed, the robes intended for the sacrifice were already laid out. He watched as Raz approached the bed and reached out to lightly touch the robes.

He startled when Raz suddenly turned to face him, struggling to breathe all over again at the intensity of Raz's eyes. "Faithful Dym," Raz said softly.

Dym turned away, eyes stinging, and went to go dig through the wardrobe. He did not want such kind words, did not want to hope that they meant he was forgiven.

Apparently deciding to leave him alone, Raz prowled the suite of rooms. Dym watched him surreptitiously whenever he wandered into his line of sight, smiled faintly when he saw Raz stop at the door to the bathing pool and gawk at it.

He was not surprised when Raz vanished into the bathing room. Dym finished pulling out his own clothes, trying not to think about Raz getting a bath. There was no way he would be able to bathe Raz as he had bathed all the previous Vessels.

Dym waited until the sound of Raz cleaning himself ceased before he finally abandoned the bed chamber. He entered just as Raz emptied a second bucket of rinsing water over himself and froze, and he almost withdrew before he caught himself. Raz smiled and set the bucket aside, moved to the bathing pool, and slipped into it. "I don't think I've ever found anything like this in the Cathedral of Ashes."

"They should be there unless they were filled in at some point," Dym replied quietly, slowly stepping further into the room. "I used to live there rather than here." Sometimes he missed it, but not often. The Cathedral of Ashes held too many painful memories, even if the Cathedral of Sacred Fires had endured all the sacrifices.

Raz nodded. "I'm sorry I nearly destroyed it. I didn't mean to."

Dym smiled faintly, staring down from the edge of the pool, amused despite himself. "The damage will be easy enough to repair."

"Going to join me?" Raz asked, leaning back so his head rested on the edge, closing his eyes and sighing.

"No," Dym said quietly, feeling his cheeks heat. Raz was moments from being sacrificed, but that did not seem to keep Dym from responding to Raz's beauty, the flush to his skin, and the way his curly hair clung to his face and neck. Eminence had always been hopelessly out of reach, but that had never stopped Dym from wishing.

Unable to bear it a moment longer, Dym abandoned the bathing chamber. He gathered up his clothes and retreated to the sitting room. Changing quickly, he sat down on the sofa and tried to calm himself. He had done it literally nine hundred and ninety nine times. There was no reason to falter at the final, most crucial moment. He must remain strong.

Thoughts flickered through his mind, whipping about like flames in a strong wind, refusing to settle. No matter how hard he tried, his usual calm would not return to him. It just had to, he thought miserably. If he failed now, he failed everyone. Not just Pozhar, but the world. He had to fix his mistake. He might never be forgiven, but at least he would be able to say that he had not failed.

Restless, he stood up and moved to stand in front of a painting of the days when the Cathedral of Ashes was first being built. Long before his time, but he remembered all the stories told to him about it.  He had given his very first service in the Cathedral of Ashes, scared and voice too low to carry, but Eminence had smiled at him warmly after and kissed his brow in approval.

It was also the Cathedral of Ashes where Raz had first lashed out at his people, badly burning half a dozen of them. After that, people had been scared. Eminence had hated himself for days. But the anger and the bitterness continued to grow. The days of proud kisses to his brow and afternoons beneath the apple tree faded. Worst of all had been when the singing had stopped.

Then the riots, the anger, the dismissal. Dym's eyes stung thinking of that last night, the smoke and fire, finding Zhar Ptitsa dead at the hands of his own people.

People with eyes that had turned violet, and he realized that Teufel had been the one behind it all. They'd already started the ceremony to destroy Zhar Ptitsa forever, and it had taken nearly the all the strength and magic that Dym possessed to turn the spell and break his Eminence into pieces.

He remembered killing the corrupted bastards with his remaining strength. He remembered how he had managed to live.

Dym turned when he heard Raz and stared in surprise for a moment, before shaking his head and laughing ever so faintly. He really should not have been surprised that Raz would reject the formal robes and opt instead for simple breeches, shirt, and waistcoat. "Of course you wanted nothing to do with the robes."

Raz just smiled in reply. "So what do we do now?"

The bells began to ring halfway through his question, and Dym waited until they had faded before answering, "We begin."

"What do I do?"

"Walk behind me, stop in front of the altar and keep your head bowed. I'll handle the rest, until … well, you'll know." Dym looked away and headed toward the door.

Raz stopped him, grabbing onto his wrist and tugging so that Dym had no choice but to turn and face him. "You look so sad. Shouldn't you be happy that the end is finally here?"

Dym shook his head and smiled wearily. "It's hard to feel happy after being anxious and scared for so long. I cannot relax, cannot rest, until it is truly over. Do not mind me, Eminence."

"I'm not Eminence," Raz said, stepping closer. It almost made Dym smile, despite everything, at the way Raz had to tilt his head so far back to look up at him. Though he could be any height—any shape—he wanted, he had always been short, slight, and wiry:  a fluttering bird alongside his larger siblings.

Raz twined his arms around Dym's neck, reached up on his toes, and took a real kiss, and though Dym tried to resist, he simply was no match for Raz's heated persistence. Dym tried to memorize the warmth and feel and flavor of him, knowing he should not, yet unable to resist, and happy he would have the memory.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Dym asked when Raz finally ended the kiss.

Raz immediately stole another one, softer, slower, and sweeter, making Dym shiver. "Because I want to and a last kiss is tradition."

"Not that kind of kiss."

"Well, I'm the last, I get a special one." Raz let him go. "Shall we?"

Dym nodded, drawing a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He reached back and pulled up his hood, hiding his face from view. Raz frowned, anger briefly filling his eyes. Reaching up, he shoved the hood back. "You're my priest, you do not hide."

"As you wish," Dym replied, startled. "It's a tradition they began to require … oh, centuries ago, perhaps three, maybe four."

"It ends now," Raz said and motioned for Dym to precede him from the room.

The cathedral fell silent as they entered. Inside was dark save for shreds of insufficient candlelight. Even the windows provided no additional light, all of it having been blocked by the relentless snow outside. Dym walked down the aisle between the pews, head up as he walked toward the altar.

Off to one side of the altar, Ivan, Shio, Shinju, and Krasny stood waiting. Raz smiled at them as he and Dym reached the altar. Dym watched and waited while Raz walked over to them and extended his hands. Shio took them, and he leaned up to kiss her cheek. He did the same with Shinju. Ivan he embraced. "Thank you for all your help, your grace."

Ivan shook his head, but said nothing.

"Thank you," Krasny said softly and bowed to him. Raz smiled and nodded.

Farewells attended, Raz turned and faced the assembly. Not a single seat was empty, and still more people stood around the edges, filled the back of the room, and seemed near to toppling over the mezzanine level. Raz went down on both knees before them and bowed his head as Dym began to speak.

Dym recited the prayers, not surprised when Raz began to recite them with him. The words seemed to resonate through the cathedral, echoed, filled the enormous space nearly to the point it seemed that it would burst.

When at last the prayers faded away, Dym could hear more than a few people sobbing. Raz lifted his bowed head and said, "The fires of Zhar Ptitsa will always warm you, always light your path, always guide you from one life to the next. Fear nothing, but be warmed and comforted."

Standing, he turned and moved around the altar and to the door at the very back. In a loud, clear voice, he said, "Open in the name of Zhar Ptitsa."

Dym followed behind him, heart thudding, hands shaking within the folds of his robes. Inside the chamber, once the door had closed behind them, Raz approached the black marble altar against the far wall. Sitting on top of it, he drew his legs up, crossing and folding them under him. He smiled crookedly at Dym and with a thought, summoned the Flames to burn him.

Dym remained standing, but only barely, as he watched Raz burn. He cried openly as the flames died down and nothing save an enormous piles of ashes remained. For several long, agonizing minutes there was nothing but stillness and silence.

Then beams of light began to appear from the ashes, growing so great that Dym was finally forced to shield his eyes. He wondered distantly how the world beyond that little room was affected, but then the light began to fade.

He opened his eyes slowly. Tears immediately blurred his vision, and he sank to his knees, no strength left in him, when he saw Raz sitting on the altar again—but more than Raz because his hair was a more vibrant red, fading to oranges and yellows at the tips. His eyes glowed like flames, and the heat and power pouring off him was enough to leave on ordinary mortal reeling and struggling for breath.

"Eminence," he gasped out, relief and happiness and the end of over nine hundred years of waiting finally at an end. He sobbed as arms wrapped around him and held him tightly, unable to do anything else. Over. It was finally over and he'd done it:  he'd brought all the scattered, lost pieces of Zhar Ptitsa back together and restored the Lost God of Pozhar.

"Sweet, faithful Dym," Zhar Ptitsa said softly, pulling back and tilting Dym's head up. "I cast you out in anger and told you not to come back. I drove you away and died hating myself for it. Yet here you are, the very same as the day I lost you. How are you here?"