Requiem (22 page)

The woman was a Whymer Maze. She still knelt for her prayers each day despite the suffering her faith seemed so set on causing her.

“What war do you fight?” he whispered into the woman’s ear.

And closing his eyes, Vlad Li Tam suddenly found himself transported into the midst of it.

It was a dark cave lit by lichen that speckled its high ceiling and the dim light of the silver staff he grasped. The woman crouched there, naked and battered, eyes wide and nostrils flared. Vlad stood near her, easily in her line of sight, but she did not see him. Instead, she watched the cavern, and when she moved, he noticed the chain upon her ankle.

“Come to me, my daughter, my sweet,” a singsong voice intoned from the shadows. “Lie with me, my lovely bride.”

He heard a whisper in the deeper dark and picked out the faintest glow of something large that shuffled toward them. He heard the woman’s breathing catch in a ragged sob and heard the chains clanking as she scrambled to her feet and tried to move away.

“Our night of consummation is only just begun,” the voice said again. “Such a strong girl, such a good girl. Do not be afraid.” As it moved closer, Vlad thought it was the lichen reflecting off of whatever approached them. But he saw quickly that this was only partially true. Deep inside a large glass orb, a dirty light guttered. And beneath the orb, metal legs moved over the stone, carrying the creature forward.

The girl was scrambling away on her hands and knees when the creature stopped and probed the ground with one of its legs. It lifted the broken end of the chain and yanked it backward. With a scream, the woman fell to be dragged across the ground like a trout on the line, flopping and twisting.

“Light,” Vlad cried out, bringing the staff down. It sparked to life, silver light flooding the massive chamber. Only then did the woman seem to see him, though the puzzlement upon her face told him she either did not recognize him or did not comprehend how he could be here with her.

And she wasn’t the only one to notice Vlad. With the room now fully lit, the creature that pursued her also saw him. And Vlad took notice now of what stood before him.

It rose up on eight metal legs that joined to a pitted, metal chassis and a dirty glass orb. Wrapped wires rose up from the back of the orb to trail out behind the spider, stretching back along the floor to a dark opening in the wall. Surprised, it dropped the chain, then leaned forward. Bellows beneath the chassis pumped air into a voice box. “And what interloper is this, come wandering with his stick into the fortnight of my nuptials?”

“I am Vlad Li Tam,” he said.

“Tam,” the spider spat. “Scam, slam, ram, dam, a tasty bit of roasted lamb.”

Vlad stepped forward, raising the staff. “What is your business with this woman?”

He could almost hear the incredulousness in the spider’s metal voice. “Why, she is my bride. My Vessel of Grace.” And then, it too moved forward, bending the glass orb down to just inches from Vlad’s face. Some kind of purple mist twisted and writhed beneath the smeared surface, and a solitary pink eye suddenly pressed up against the inside of the orb, blinking yellow ichor onto the glass. “And what is
your
business with her, stick-waver?”

The woman looked up at him, her brown eyes wide with terror and shock, her naked body covered in scabs and filth. Her lower lip trembled, and when he made eye contact with her, she looked away.

“Salvation,” Vlad whispered, though he did not understand the compulsion to save her that pervaded every bit of him.

The spider howled laughter and danced backward on seven of its legs and tugged the chain with the eighth. The girl fell again, but she’d stopped whimpering now as it dragged her backward toward the dark doorway.

The staff grew suddenly hot in Vlad’s hands, and current coursed the length of his arm, staggering him.
Do not let it leave, my love. Do not let it take her into the dark.

Vlad strode across the floor, the rod extended before him. He raised his voice, and it bellowed through the cavern. “Release her.”

The spider pulled the woman in close to itself with two of its legs, and once she was tucked safely beneath the chassis, it approached Vlad again. This time, the bellows seemed to sniff him and the staff. “Interloper, dance-the-roper, deep-in-dark and sorrow-groper,” it sang. “You have no power over me here.”

Its name is its power,
a woman whispered.
And he must give it if asked; it is the heart of all bargains.
He looked to the girl but knew even as he did that it wasn’t her. It was someone closer.

The staff.

Vlad extended it, one-handed, and smote the glass orb. “What is your name, demon?”

“I am the seventh of the seven,” the spider said, shuddering from the blow. It scuttled back again, this time faster, and Vlad lunged after it, hitting it again.

“Your name,” he demanded.

“I am the last and the lost, the forgotten and forsaken.”

It toys with you.
Yes, he realized. Because it had to speak the truth, but it didn’t have to be direct. Vlad turned his gaze on the woman that dangled in its arms, tucked up beneath the chassis.

“You know its name,” he said. “It haunts your nightmares.”

She closed her eyes. “I may not speak it.”

Vlad closed his own.
Yes, you may.

And when she mouthed the words, he read them from her lips and spoke them aloud into the cavern. “Ahm Y’Zir,” he cried out. “I command you to free this woman.”

The spider shrieked and threw the girl aside as if she’d become too hot to carry. Vlad thrust the staff at it and it scrambled away, its legs clacking over the stone floor. He did not pursue it as it ran through the doorway and slipped into shadow. Instead, he turned to the girl, but she was already gone.

Vlad smiled and willed himself awake. She stared at him with eyes more clear than he remembered seeing them before. Her face was more relaxed, and the look upon it made him uncomfortable. It was a strange mixture of joy and wonderment.

“You’re free now,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “Is it true? What the woman told me?”

Vlad scowled. “What woman?”

“The one in the cave who stood with you.”

His eyes narrowed. “What did she tell you?”

The Vessel of Grace stifled a yawn. “That you would also free my daughter.”

The staff lay cold beneath him, and Vlad curled his fingers around it, liking the way the metal felt in his grasp. “I’m certain it must be true,” he said in a quiet voice.

The woman rolled over and pushed herself against him, her breathing slow and steady. Vlad Li Tam sighed, fell into a light sleep, and dreamed of his grandson’s laughter.

Jin Li Tam

The bustle of activity in the stateroom was a near imitation of the same fervor gripping the ship and crew, and Jin Li Tam took to it like an actor to a stage. Aedric slept quietly tucked beneath her bed as she and Lynnae helped each other into formal gowns that had been delivered just after dawn.

Sometime in the night, they’d anchored in the harbor of Ahm’s Glory, and she’d watched the sun rise over that vast city from the porthole after finding additional guards at her door.

The city itself was subtle in its difference from any other she’d seen, and Jin could not place that difference. Spires and towers stretched out as far as she could see, and strange beasts of burden—yaks and dromedaries, she suspected—moved up and down the avenues trailing behind the people who led them or walking with ease beneath the people who rode them.

The only thing that seemed clearly unusual to her was the gathering crowd just beyond a well-guarded dock, but Sister Elsbet’s arrival with the dresses explained that well enough.

“We’ll ride by carriage to the imperial palace,” she had said in quiet tones, smiling over a sleeping Jakob. “And take a late lunch there in the gardens with the regent and a few of his closest supporters. But we will not hurry; there are people who slept on the street last night just to glimpse you and your son as you pass by.”

Now, Lynnae flushed as she struggled with her dress; and Jakob, stripped down to his diaper, crawled about the floor, pausing to pull himself up to stand here or there to take tentative steps before returning to his hands and knees. Jin watched them in the mirror and then returned to studying herself.

She could see the events of the last two years in her face—lines at the corners of her mouth and a hardness in her eyes—but for what she’d paid there, her body was a different matter. It was firm, well toned and strong. She adjusted her breasts in the gown and then twisted to see what she could of her bare back.

“You look lovely,” Lynnae said.

Jin smiled. “Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve squeezed into one of these.”

Lynnae chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve worn a gown since your wedding.”

Jin’s mind flashed to the ceremony, held in the gardens of the Seventh Forest Manor at Rachyle’s Rest. But the image of Rudolfo in his dress uniform and green turban of office—and Jakob dressed in a close approximation of the same—was a knife in her ribs now, and she pushed the memory aside. Instead, she focused on the Entrolusian woman. The light green of her dress complemented her olive complexion, and her dark curly hair was pulled back beneath matching pearl combs. “You look lovely as well, Lynnae.”

The woman curtsied. “Thank you, Lady.”

A muffled voice cleared behind them both, and Jakob laughed and staggered back as a large hand swiped at him from beneath the bed. Aedric crawled out, growling low like a bear, and Jakob laughed even louder.

Jin’s hands moved by instinct.
We’ve more ears at the door than normal.

Aedric saw and nodded, his eyes dark. They’d stayed up late, long after Lynnae and Jakob had fallen asleep, shaping the best strategy they could in whispers and words pressed into hands. But the look on his face told her he understood what she now feared. He couldn’t stay beneath the powders forever. She’d seen what could happen to scouts who magicked themselves for too long. It was impossible to know any man’s threshold for tolerating them, but every scout had his limit. And captured, Aedric would do no one any good.

But what to do?
He would not relent in his decision to stay with her and Jakob. She’d even considered turning him in herself but knew that even with her influence as Great Mother, she couldn’t be certain that she could sway the regent in that matter. And she couldn’t risk failure.

Neither could he.
And they both knew the truth now as they lay at harbor. His hours with them were numbered, but Aedric would stay until he absolutely could not any longer. But he would find them again—she had no doubt of it.

A knock at the door sent the scout scuttling back beneath the bed, and Jin Li Tam moved forward quickly to scoop up Jakob. “One moment,” she called out.

She shot a glance to Lynnae, and the woman quickly positioned herself in front of the bed. After a final glance confirmed to her that Aedric couldn’t be seen, she opened the door a crack.

Eliz Xhum stood, dressed in black robes decorated in silver and crimson, alongside a similarly clothed Sister Elsbet. Both inclined their heads. “It is nearly time, Great Mother. Are you ready?”

Jin smiled. “Very nearly,” she said, holding Jakob between her and the door. “We just need to dress him.”

Xhum returned her smile. “Certainly,” he said. “We’ll wait.”

Pushing the door closed, she grabbed up Jakob’s tiny uniform and dressed him quickly with Lynnae’s help. As she finished, she felt hands upon her shoulders.
I am ready, Lady,
Aedric said, pressing the words into her skin.

“Good,” she said. Her own hands found his forearm.
Stay close to me.

Aedric’s whisper was barely audible. “Aye.”

Then, she nodded Lynnae to the door and gathered Jakob up in her arms. “We’re ready,” she said.

Lynnae went out first, and Jin allowed a split second for Aedric to slip between them before leaving the stateroom herself. She paused for the regent and the Daughter of Ahm to fall in beside her, and then she counted her steps carefully to give Aedric space to move in. When they reached the deck and climbed out into the sun, she heard a roar that she mistook for thunder before realizing it was a cheer.

The docks were crowded with people, and their scarred, adoring faces felt even more alien than the Machtvolk who had greeted their arrival in the north. A large area had been cleared leading up to several open carriages—and the streets were held clear by a good-sized company of dark-uniformed soldiers. She also saw half-squads of female scouts in black silk with red scarves of rank stationed at the edge of the crowd, their eyes scanning the crowd. Others stood on rooftops, holding short bows.

The gangplank had been adorned with flowers—most of a type familiar to her but some not—and the ship’s officers stood at attention at the top. It was when she inclined her head to them that the flash of light caught her eye.

She looked to the bottom of the gangplank and saw it again—sunlight playing upon a mirror.

No,
she realized. Not a mirror. Metal.

Two men stood to either side of the carriage with their backs turned, each holding a shield made of Firstfall metal. They watched the reflection, crouching so that the entire area around them could be seen, and nearby Blood Guard, unmagicked themselves, watched as well.

They paused at the top, and the regent raised his hands, bringing up another cheer from the crowd. He drew a phial from his pocket and touched his tongue to a tiny dropper. His voice boomed out into the city. “Behold, the Great Mother and the Child of Promise,” he said. “Behold, the Advent of the Crimson Empress is at hand. The healing of the world is upon us.”

They were singing now, and the looks upon their faces no longer held the simple adoration of the Machtvolk. The sheer numbers of them—and near hysteria of their aspect—overwhelmed her, flooded her with something she thought must be horror.

Eliz Xhum led them down the gangplank, and Jin forced her attention back to the men and their silver shields. Aedric had to see them. And he had been there that night, when they’d seen the reflections of the blood-magicked assassins who’d murdered Hanric and Ansylus at Rudolfo’s Firstborn Feast. Charles had extrapolated upon that discovery, creating a handful of monoscopes that could reveal scout magicks—blood or otherwise.