The Lotus Ascension (30 page)

“
Soren, Soren, Soren!” Sillara threw herself into her brother's arms
even before he was fully out of the balloon basket, knocking them both to the
ground. Soren laughed and held her close, kissing the top of her head.

“
Sillara!
Singing my welcome then?”

Sillara nodded,
unable to speak further through her happy tears. Soren was here, and all would
be well. The Desertmasters would let her go, or maybe not. It did not matter,
not now that Soren was here.

“
Soren.”
Konas's voice cut through Sillara's joyous haze, and she and Soren
were helped to their feet by Nathen and Konas.

“
The King!
It is the Queen's King!” Vaelus shouted.

Sillara smiled,
but she noticed that Nathen and Merieke were both at a loss.

“
Did he just call me 'King'?” asked Soren, putting his arm
protectively around Sillara's shoulders.

“
Yes, brother.”
Sillara felt as though her face were glowing. “They speak some
mixture of ancient Sunjaa and ancient Fihdal, but their grammar is primarily
Sunjaa.”

“
They will not let us leave,” said Konas. “Or more precisely, they
will not let Sillara leave.”

Soren's grip on
her shoulder tightened. “Explain, sister.”

Sillara leaned
her head on Soren's breast, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart
beneath her cheek. “They call me 'Queen',” she said.

“
And so did the Sunjaa of Arinport.” Soren rested his chin on her
head. “This is not strange. You conquered them with your song?”

“
They named me 'Queen' from the moment they saw I was both Sunjaa and
Ausir. They were founded by a half-Ausir over a thousand years ago, and they were
some sort of precursor to the Fihdal and Vadal people interbred with Sunjaa.”

“
And the Sunjaa would have none of it and banished them.” Soren
understood the implications at once.

“
Exactly.
But their half-Ausir leader, Tambril, enabled them to dig a well
deep enough to add to the water here at this oasis. They have been here ever
since.”

“
Worshiping their technology,” said Konas bitterly. “Technology given
them by an Ausir, technology they do not understand, and for its sake they keep
Sillara here!”

Sillara glanced
up at Soren. There was more to the people's desire of her than her skill with
technology. They viewed her as a being of myth stepped out into the real world,
a demi-goddess come down to rule them.

“
Your
Grace.” Vaelus
bowed to her. “What is your King's name?”

Sillara glanced
at Soren, who, knowing what the Desertmaster's tongue was based on, was able to
follow their speech a little already. His nod showed her he had understood, and
she waited for him to speak.

“
I am Soren,” he said. “And Sillara is mine.”

“
Yes, yes, of course!” Vaelus bowed to Soren, and Sillara smiled to
see the amazement on the Chief Priest's face. Soren's brilliance astonished
Vaelus, and pride in Soren filled Sillara's heart.

“
He has come to take me home,” said Sillara.

“
Your home is here,” said Vaelus.
“For the gods
have given us a glorious Queen and a mighty King to be her lord!”
He
gestured to the balloon. “For see how the King comes down from the sky to claim
his Queen?”

Soren looked at
Sillara. “Did he just say this was your home?”

“
Yes, and, Soren, they need me more than the Ausir ever did.” Sillara
knew that Soren would understand her feelings toward these Desertmasters.

“
And unlike the Ausir,” said Konas, “they will kill you rather than
let you go.”

“
Your Grace, will it please you to be crowned with your Queen in six
days?” Vaelus bowed before Soren.
“For you have been sent, in
accordance with the divinations of Abrexa's priests, to be our King.”

Soren shook his
head. “I will think,” he said.

“
Can we get out of the sun?” asked Merieke, coming up to Soren and
laying her hand on his arm.

Sillara
stiffened at the familiarity of the touch, but Soren did not seem either
pleased or angry.

“
I have a house,” said Sillara. “I will take you there.”

“
And you have servants, yes?” Merieke surveyed Sillara's
Desertmaster-style garments. “So they can make you more clothes before we
leave?”

“
I live as a Tamari Queen,” said Sillara, unexpectedly angry. She
forced herself to smile. Merieke and Nathen had come all this way to accompany
Soren in his rescue of her, and she owed them all courtesy.

“
That means there are no servants,” said Soren. “Now, take us home,
sister.”

Sillara led the
way, her hand in Soren's, down the street to her house. The Desertmasters lined
the street, cheering as they passed.

When they
reached Konas's house, he stopped. “I am not permitted any farther,” he said.
“They will not let me enter her house.”

The glint of
fierce joy in Soren's eyes surprised Sillara, but she was happy to see it
regardless of its cause.

“
Would you stay here for a few minutes, Soren? I need to talk to you
about what is
really
going on in this city.” Konas laid his hand on
Sillara's shoulder. “She is too innocent to know all their plans.”

Soren's glance
comforted Sillara. She knew he trusted her judgment, but his courtesy kept him
there. “If you speak quickly, I will listen to anything that will help me best
serve my sister.”

“
And you, Lady Sillara, can take us to your house,” said Nathen.
“For Merieke and I are weary and thirsty.”

Sillara had never
been so tempted to discourtesy in her life, but she pasted on a smile.
“Of course.”
She looked up at Soren. “Hurry, please,
brother.”

Soren squeezed
her tightly, and she never wanted him to let her go. But Konas coughed, and as
soon as Soren released her, Merieke half-dragged her away.

“
This is my house,” said Sillara. She showed Nathen and Merieke in,
and once the door had closed behind them, Merieke hugged Sillara.

“
Welcome me, sister!” said Merieke.
“For I am part
of your family now!”

Sillara simply stared.
Her thoughts had remained with Soren, and it took her a moment to register what
Merieke had said.

“
What?”

“
I am Soren's—” said Merieke.

“
Not his wife.” Sillara fixed her gaze on Merieke's bare wrist. She
did not wear Soren's Ausir wedding bracelet.

“
Not yet!” Merieke laughed.
“Just his concubine for
now.”

Sillara bit her
lip. Merieke did not deserve Soren, not even so much as to be his concubine.

“
And we can hope,” said Nathen, “that our families will be even more
closely united.” His eyes glowed. “For surely after how Konas endangered you by
bringing you out into the desert, your father will never let you be married to
the Ausir King.”

The
Desertmasters will not let me leave anyway.
The
thought was not at all bitter to Sillara, and she could almost see Soren
wearing Tambril's crown.

Chapter Nineteen

Soren followed
Konas into his house, a collection of dim, empty rooms. Konas kept no fires lit
here, no lamps burning, and the curtains were drawn against the heat of the
day.

“
Welcome to my exile.” Though Konas walked before Soren, he gestured
expansively to the close-walled gloom of the place.

Soren said
nothing but kept his gaze fixed on the back of Konas's head. Whenever his host
would turn his face to the side, he thought he caught a glimpse of him smirking.
Konas led Soren through the house, and as they passed from room to room,
daylight brightened the walls. They turned a corner, and a garden spread out
before them. This green space protected by tall palm trees grew out of the
middle of the house—or
rather,
it was as if the sand
brick home had been built around it. Soren had never seen any architecture like
this, neither in Arinport nor among the Ausir nor at any of the northern ports
he had
visited in his time in the navy.

The
cheerlessness of the house, being so much at odds with his happiness at seeing
Sillara again, had annoyed him, but this garden lifted his mood. It was
perfectly situated, and Soren actually smiled at Konas.

“
A fine house,” he said. “These Desertmasters, as they call
themselves, honor you.”

Konas shook his
head. “Not as they should.”

Soren stared
his unasked question at Konas, and Konas clearly perceived his silent meaning
but did not respond. Instead he grinned and waved Soren forward. “Let's sit
down and relax in the shade. There are many flowers in the garden that give
forth a pleasing
aroma,
ones that I have found ease a
troubled mind.”

But Soren's
mind was not troubled. Konas obviously wanted to talk about something, and he
was taking his sweet time to get around to it.

“
Would you like a cup of cool water?” Konas asked. “You must be
thirsty from your flight.”

Soren sat on
the stone bench among low, leafy bushes he had no name for.
“No,
thanks.”

“
Mead?”

“
What's that?”

Konas reached
out and cradled a red blossom in his hand. He inhaled its fragrance. “It's a
drink made from honey, much more potent than beer.”

“
Sure,” Soren said, “I'll try that.” He had the feeling Konas would
go down a mental list offering him this and that until Soren accepted
something. The Ausir was playing the gracious host with pedantic precision.

Konas left the
garden humming to himself, and Soren rolled his eyes at his departing form.
Something was wrong; Soren knew it.

When Konas
reappeared, he carried a tray with two cups as lightly as he wore his wide smile.
He passed Soren his cup,
then
took the second cup in
his own hands. He stood before Soren and raised his glass.
“A
toast.
The Itenu children are reunited in a happy hour.”

Soren narrowed
his eyes. Konas had not looked too happy when Soren's balloon had landed. On
the contrary, he looked decidedly peeved. But Soren put aside his suspicion,
raised his glass, and drank the dark, bitter liquid.

Konas smacked
his lips and exhaled theatrically. “A good drink, though it
be
devised by savages.” He held the cup up and inspected it.

Soren and Konas
had spent a lot of good times together; they had worked side by side inventing
and crafting the winch and chassis for wurm-hunting. They were friends, so why
this smiling hostility?

“
You brought me here to tell me about the Desertmasters's plans.”
Soren wanted to see his sister, so the sooner Konas told him what was going on,
the sooner he could get back to Sillara. He had spent days worrying over her,
and he longed to sit beside her, hold her hands, and chat with her as they
loved to do.

Konas frowned
and waved away Soren's comment. “Nothing
like
that,
old friend.” There was no friendliness in his voice. “I just wanted you to know
that I know how you feel about Sillara.”

Soren rose to
his feet. He did not know what Konas meant, but he did not like it. “How do I
feel about her? She's my sister—I love her.”

“
Yes, but you love her with that unnatural, incestuous love which the
Sunjaa give countenance to.” Konas's lip curled, and he looked Soren up and
down in disgust.

Soren opened
his mouth to object. He did not desire Sillara that way. She was his sister,
the Ausir Queen-to-be, a woman of singular beauty and grace. No one understood
her the
way Soren did. They shared one mind, and in his
heart, he knew her. The most profound happiness Soren had ever felt
was knowing
that she understood him with equal clarity.
Between them there could be no division, nothing unshared. In a feverish
moment, Soren went from not knowing that he loved Sillara to knowing that he
always had. His pulse raced; his blood thundered in his ears.

“
You desert people call yourself civilized,” Konas said with a sneer,
“but such baseborn desires are the death of civilization.”