Divined (16 page)

Kusa wheezed and coughed before he found his voice. “This”—he indicated the back of his neck—“keeps Vazuil from your mind, and this”—he touched behind his ear—“keeps away any Visions a Deity might try to send you.”

“So simple,” Clio murmured.

Kusa laughed. “For you perhaps.” He took a deep, rattling breath. “The knowledge, however, was somewhat more challenging to come upon.”

Clio knelt in front of him. “How did you learn about these runes?”

“I’ve always been more interested in studies than in ruling. Much to my brothers’ dismay. They thought me weak for the decades I spent in search of knowledge. In a way, I suppose I was weak for it. You don’t acquire many worshippers when you spend your time in study.”

“But you found how to make an Oracle. Surely they can’t think you weak for that.”

“I did.” He nodded. “I studied the ancient gods. And then I watched what my brothers did to Daizon… I never told my brothers what I learned. If I did, they would kill me and steal the knowledge for themselves.”

“They think only their daughters strong enough to bear the Sight. The first Oracle they made out of Daizon’s wife went mad from the Visions,” Clio murmured.

“Kusa’s smarter than the rest of them,” Atzi said, pride in her voice. “These runes protect my mind.” She bowed her head, allowing Clio a glimpse of the intricate runes covering nearly her entire scalp.

Clio faced Kusa. “How many Oracles do you have?”

“Only Atzi.” He looked surprised.

“But there is nothing to stop you from having more. You could be more powerful than all your brothers. What’s to keep you from making your own army of warriors who can see the future?”

“Me.” Something hardened in the Deity’s eyes. “I never thought I would make an Oracle. And I do not plan on ever repeating the process. I would not have done it at all were it not for the insistence of a particularly headstrong priestess.” His eyes flashed to Atzi, a smile parting his lips. She looked up at him, tenderness and more between them.

“You love one another,” Clio said, realizing.

Kusa’s eyes were warm as he studied Atzi. She squeezed his hand in return.

Clio stood. “I’ve witnessed what happens when a Deity loves a mortal. Your brothers will kill you for this.”

“It would be the least of my crimes in their eyes. I fought in Daizon’s rebellion. I paid the price for his actions.” He tapped his stunted leg. “Believe me, I never intended to love a mortal. But those in charge don’t concern themselves with me anymore. They see me as broken, weak.”

“Those in charge? I thought the Deities ruled as one.”

Kusa’s expression darkened. “We used to. Before Daizon. Since then, it’s been a never-ending struggle for power.”

Riece pushed off from the wall, coming in closer. “Who is in power now?”

Kusa looked to Clio. “Whoever controls the Oracle’s line typically rules in the court of Deities.”

“Vazuil, then,” Riece answered.

“Only he doesn’t control her any longer. Now that he has lost that power, I imagine another struggle is beginning.”

“My father. He will want to take power back.” Fear settled in Clio’s stomach. He had warned her of the end.

Kusa nodded. “Whoever takes power will need to shed blood to do so.”

“And that’s what you’ve foreseen. Let’s say we prevent this war and break the Deities’ power. What then? Will you simply return to your life of quiet study?” she asked, watching him closely.

“You are implying I would seize power for myself.”

“It would be a perfect plan. Use Atzi and me and keep your own hands clean in the process.”

“Kusa
should
rule,” Atzi said before Kusa could respond.

“I have no interest in ruling. I never have.” He coughed and gripped his leg, digging his fingers into the twisted muscle.

“You need to go,” Atzi whispered, laying a hand on his.

“I do. The
cenote
, it isn’t good for me. Tell them what I’ve Shown you. I will see you again soon.” He leaned down, laying a gentle kiss on Atzi’s lips. When she pulled away, Clio saw there were tears in the Oracle’s eyes.

“I release you,” Atzi whispered. She held on to Kusa as long as she could before he faded away beneath her hands, leaving behind only a gentle spattering of rain.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“Tell us everything you could make out in the Vision,” Riece said as he handed the Oracle a bowl of their supper.

“Like I said, Kusa’s Sight isn’t as strong as his brothers’. But I’ve been able to make out some things. A great army will lay siege to the gates of Morek, and they will get in. I saw war in the streets of the capital.”

Riece looked at Clio for the first time since they sat down. “Sheehan. It must be. Derik is the only one with an army in position to attack.”

“I will speak with him,” Clio muttered. “But Sheehan won’t be behind all the bloodshed.” She turned to Atzi. “You spoke of a man in amber robes on the throne.”

Atzi nodded. “He will order a mass sacrifice. Larger and more terrible than any sacrifice in the Empire’s history.”

“The Emperor would never agree to such a thing,” Riece protested.

“Why not?” Ealis asked, earning a scowl from Riece. “He’s already allowed the Order to increase the number of offerings required by each territory. What’s to say he wouldn’t be against this?”

“He wouldn’t.” Riece’s voice invited no questions. “He hates the offerings, but he can’t defy the Order. Not yet. Not while the city is starving.”

“But it’s not the Emperor on the throne in Atzi’s Vision,” Clio added. “Could you make out anything else about this man in an amber cloak?” she asked the Oracle.

“He wore a great headdress. I’m not close enough to see his face, but even if I did, it’s not as if I know a great many Order members.”

“A headdress? It’s the High Priest.” Clio turned to Riece. “The High Priest is going to steal the throne.”

“I need to return to Morek immediately.”

Clio nodded. “Do you know when this is all happening?

Atzi frowned. “It feels soon. But…I cannot be certain. I know the call for mass sacrifice will happen as Morek’s gates break down under the attacks of this army. The Deities will be given unprecedented power from all the bloodshed in one spot. It will be a massacre.”

“Unless Clio faces them.” It was Ashira who spoke up.

Atzi nodded. “And even then, I cannot be certain. A great many will die.”

“We need to act quickly—” Clio began.

“We need to go to Morek and warn the Emperor,” Riece interrupted.

Ixie stood to gather the bowls. “We need to destroy the Order.”

“Easier said than done,” Riece answered with a scoff.

“You’re the heir to the Emperor. You command his armies. Why can’t you break the Order? You have more than enough cause for it.” Ixie stared down at Riece, challenge in her eyes.

“I can’t exactly tell anyone in the Empire about this Vision.”

“All right. So think of another reason. The offerings. Anything.”

Riece jumped to his feet, frustrated. “I’ve tried! The Emperor has tried! But the people would revolt. For years the Order has told them they are the reason the Deities smile down on the Empire. And if any of the nobles figured out I was moving against the Order, they would use it against me. I would never be able to take the throne after standing against the Deities.”

“So you’re useless.” Ixie paced around the cave, stopping at Ealis. “What about Nox?”

“Nox?” Ealis echoed.

“He wanted to break the Order.”

Riece shook his head. “But he can’t. The Order cannot be broken. Not without an army, and no one can march an army against the Order without inciting civil war.”

“So we don’t get him to break the Order,” Clio said slowly. “We give it to him.”

Riece’s eyes widened. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“If he becomes the Head Priest, then perhaps we can prevent this from even beginning.”

“Except Nox doesn’t want to be a priest. He wants to find a way out so he can wed my sister.”

Ealis stood and glanced quickly at Ixie. “No, this could work. My cousin has never been one to turn down the call of opportunity. Even if it means being a priest forever, he would have power to make change.”

“And as Head Priest, he definitely wouldn’t be able to marry Tirza,” Clio offered.

Riece stopped, looked at Clio and nearly smiled. He shook his head. “Even if Nox agreed to it, I don’t have the power to put Nox in charge. We would need the Emperor.”

“So you speak to him. Tell him you have suspicions of the High Priest. The Emperor will listen to you.”

“This will need to happen quickly if it’s to work,” Atzi said.

Riece nodded. “We are back to going to Morek as soon as possible.”

“I’ll pack up our things,” Ixie added, already moving around the cavern.

“Wait,” Clio called. “I still can’t go to the Empire.”

Riece’s eyes narrowed as he turned to her. “You’re not the Oracle anymore, Clio.”

“But whoever told the Emperor about me won’t believe that. And it won’t matter to the Emperor.”

“This is ridiculous. You promised Atzi you would fight in this war.”

“And I will.” Clio straightened. “But you don’t need me to help you convince the Emperor. And the Order is only half of what Atzi saw.”

Riece considered her words. Then his expression turned to stone. “You want to go to Derik.”

“I
have
to. I can’t let Derik lead Sheehan into a massacre. If we fail with the Order, if I’m to face this battle on the pyramid, then so be it. But Sheehan won’t be anywhere near it.”

“But—”

She held up a hand, stepping up to Riece. “You told me I had to start making choices like the rest of you. This is my choice. I will speak to Derik. Then I will face whatever awaits me in Morek.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

They left the
cenote
when the moon was high in the sky. Clio held her breath for a moment as she stepped out of the cave, waiting. But nothing came. No Vision, no pain, no Vazuil whispering in her ear. The world was silent and clear and perfect. As they began the walk back to Cearo, Clio couldn’t stop staring up into the sky at the stars that were brighter than Clio had ever before realized.

No one spoke. Ealis led the way with Ashira, while Riece and Atzi trailed behind. Clio knew Riece was still angry with her, but she didn’t know which upset him more—her decision to return to Sheehan, or her failure to give him an answer to his proposal.

She wanted to say yes. She looked forward to the moment she could. But it could only be when they had secured their future. Without the Visions, she had to be cautious. If her past had taught her anything, it was that she and Riece could never be safe as long as the Deities lived. Riece would understand that in time. She hoped he would, at least. And when the Deities were defeated, when the Empire was made safe, when Mannix was found—
then
she would allow herself this happiness.

“Can we talk?” Ixie asked, trotting up to Clio’s side.

“About what, Ixie? You risked all of our lives.”

“
Risked your lives
?” Ixie’s eyes widened. “I
saved
you. I’m the reason Vazuil hasn’t ripped you apart. I’m the reason you’re free. I was right all along.”
 

“You
happened
to be right.” Clio stopped. “But you rushed into this without thinking. You didn’t like my choices so you sought out my enemy. You could have been killed. You could have led her back to Ashira and me, and she could have killed us. What you did was foolish. I cannot trust you like I once did.”

“This isn’t about trust, Clio.” Ixie’s skin was so milky white in the starlight it nearly glowed. “You’re just angry I did what you were too afraid to do.”

Clio strode forward. “This is a war. You need to think farther ahead. Our choices affect everyone—thousands of lives. We can’t afford to be reckless and hope our decisions turn out right.” Her words came out a whisper, heavy with the guilt of so many rash actions.

Ixie said nothing, and Clio didn’t stop walking forward, away from everything left between them.

Her heart was pounding, but she kept her gaze fixed ahead, unwilling to turn and see the girl who closed the inn door so many nights ago without so much as a glance back at the friendship she was leaving behind.

They arrived in the early hours of morning. The sky was still dark, but the beacon towers had been extinguished, and the city was silent.

Ealis invited them to stay the rest of the night at his home in the councilor’s row since their room at the inn wasn’t big enough to house Riece and Atzi. None of Ealis’ servants were awake, and instead of waking them, he led the group through his home to the guest quarters overlooking a large, private garden.

“Commander, your chambers will be to the left,” Ealis said. “Ladies, you may follow me this way.” He held his hand out, gesturing to the right down a lighted corridor.

Riece stopped and stared after them. “I don’t think separating us all is strictly necessary. I would feel better if I could keep an eye on everyone,” he finished with a look at Clio.

“I’m afraid that would go against the rules of decency in Cearo. When my servants wake, they would be scandalized to find a man among so many ladies.”

“But—”

“You have nothing to fear, Commander. There are guards on every corner of the estate. No one can get in without sounding the alarm. Now, if you would be so kind as to respect the rules of my household.” He smiled at Riece, and Clio stifled a laugh as Riece fought to hold his tongue.

They continued down the hallway and stopped in front of a curtained archway. “I have two rooms,” Ealis said, waving his hand to a pair of curtained arches.

“Ashira and I will take this one,” Clio said quickly, avoiding Ixie’s stare.

“Very well. The other room is across the hall. Washing rooms are at the end of the corridor. If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to find me.” He turned to leave but stopped, his eyes on Ixie. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” Ixie twisted around. Sure enough, there was a small slice down the small of her back. “Oh it’s nothing. I guess I cut myself on one of my blades when I was…” Her words faltered.