12 A Blubbering Fool

LIVIANA PACED, RIDING boots thudding on the oak floorboards. She’d ridden her own sydarag, an activity she’d not done in years. The beast had been restless when she’d mounted him. Once clear of the city, she’d given him his head, and what a feeling, the wind as a knife cutting through her, while the muscular beast between her legs thumped across the earth. It was times like that she didn’t despise being human, at least, not as much.

The house was large with a dozen rooms. This main bedroom had a deep-set fireplace, the coals lit. The personal residence of a conclavist and family recently departed.

She halted by the prisoner. ‘I know what you are. There is nothing to be gained here by denials.’

He grunted.

‘Give me her location, and perhaps I will overlook your recent stupidity. I might even find a use for you.’

‘You killed her.’ The prisoner spat, a glob congealing on Liviana’s boot. ‘She’s gone.’

Weary, she massaged her brow, and gestured at her thraels. If that was how he wanted it.

Altus and Berg, she believed those were the names, forced the prisoner’s hands into the flames for a second time. He screeched, twisting, and writhing to get free. The room filled with the stench of roasting meat. It mingled with the persistent stink of unwashed thraels. Conversion did nothing for their hygiene it seemed. Liviana made a sharp gesture.

The sweaty men, whom she’d borrowed from Pen Luthus, pulled the captive from the flames. They’d proven capable enough at least. The hands and wrists of the prisoner had blackened; a clear fluid wept from large blisters, the skin sloughing away. He was whimpering but regained control.

‘For tens of thousands of years, our kind has hidden among humans. Did you think I would not recognise you on sight? Did you think you could stand in my way?’

Her men now lashed the prisoner with thick ropes, to prevent his full transformation. The protrusions had begun. Trauma would do that. The man’s gaze drifted to the corpse, which lay in a corner. Did he feel responsible for her death? Had he loved or cared for her? I doubt it, she thought. We all do what is necessary. She had lost ten of her thraels to these two before having to intervene.

Liviana stooped to whisper in his ear. ‘Tell me her location. You cannot hide what you are no more than why you are here.’ She grabbed his arms, the hands useless now. He cried out in agony. ‘What is it to you if she lives or dies? Is she really worth this?’ She would have that little vixen. How dare she oppose and make a fool of her. So long as she lived that bitch was a threat.

‘You want her. You want the Key,’ the prisoner whispered. ‘You will have neither. You’ve failed, Them. We both know what that means.’

She punched the prisoner in the face, once, twice and a third time. Rivulets of molten flame filled her veins. Cartilage and bone gave under the blows. Such a weak form, this human flesh. ‘You will die here, and I don’t just mean your pathetic body.’

She produced a serrated steel blade that shimmered with a light all its own. His eyes widened on sight of it. She possessed one other, which Pen Luthus had taken with him. Those copies she’d created for her thraels didn’t count. They were of limited use, and weaker. Time, no, she never had enough; relearning the old arts took too long. ‘You know what this is, don’t you? Give me her location.’

The hapless fool stared at her. Blood bubbled from his damaged face, but his remaining eye showed no fear. Just defiance. Impressive, but then it was to be expected of her kind.

Moving away, she stalked towards the decoy. The woman they sought was several inches taller. They had led her thraels down the wrong path. The idiot must have known what would happen. He had expected to die. Such misplaced loyalty. The corpse had blonde hair and similar features to her quarry. Even her clothing was similar, and overall, it had not been a bad ruse. ‘I killed her quickly. I will take my time with you.’ She pointed towards him with the dagger. ‘There is no escape. No hope. Just Oblivion. I can spare you that.’

He stared back at her with determination, gritting his teeth to prepare himself.

This time they held his feet to the flames. Blood sizzled as it hit the burning coals. An acrid stench of burning flesh continued to fill the room. The screams were horrendous and the protrusions grew larger, straining the ropes. Yes, his form was weak, but the spirit within was the problem. That was strong. He would endure and his flesh would die before telling her anything useful. She had wasted an entire morning. That chit could be anywhere in the city or beyond.

They pulled the blubbering fool from the fire. His feet were blackened and useless. Flames licked his ankles and legs, charring and blistering the skin further up. He was barely conscious. The body would die, but the soul within would not escape. She fingered the soul shard, anticipating that moment. She glanced at the blade. Its surface was dark, but a closer look revealed a swirling flame as though seen beneath glass. A lifetime in this form, she’d nearly forgotten her former existence. It was nice to have reminders.

‘You have no idea what you’re doing,’ the prisoner croaked as he regained awareness. ‘They will ... ruin this world, and then the entire Spectrum. You should be trying ... to prepare it, to defend it. Instead, you seek to destroy it.’

‘I have no intention of destroying it,’ Liviana said in calm voice, ‘well, not all of it. I seek to save worlds, thousands of them. Does that surprise you? A mere fraction, but that is all that can be saved. You lot are fools to think you can save it all, that you can stop the coming dissolution. You dare name us, Fallen? We were ever the true guardians.’

‘No, you seek power. It is all ... you ever sought, Andromeda.’

She heard a soldier thumping up the stairs, before he burst through the bedroom doors. ‘We’ve found the trail,’ the woman panted. ‘House Brutus sheltered her two nights ago.’

Liviana stared into his eyes. ‘I promise you; I will find Todralan and kill her.’

She held her gaze with Conclavist Ornias Saelos a moment longer and then dismissed him. ‘Kill him,’ she said, turning and handing the soul shard to Berg, ‘but do it slowly.’

‡

‘WHAT, IN THE UNHOLY name of Grim, were you thinking?’ It was after midnight and Aiyana’s Darken paced, snappish and growling. ‘Your recent antics have upended any hope we had at stopping her. She knew about your brother. For the love of the Spectrum above, she knew.’

‘You said that already,’ answered Aiyana in a calm voice, ‘several times, I believe.’ She was resting, eyes closed. She sighed. ‘For the last time, I couldn’t let her legitimise her rule. If I did, I could never reclaim the throne. It would have meant the next in line would legally be an Avitus.’

‘What does any of that matter? She’ll take power now anyway. It’s all academic. You’ve spent far too much time with your nose in books, Yana. This is the real world.’

‘I have the legal and moral right to oppose her while her rule isn’t ratified. I defeat her and I can still be raised imperatrix. A rebellion is the next clear step, and I will lead it.’

‘You can’t be serious,’ her Darken snapped. ‘No one will support you. The truth about your brother will spread. I’m sorry, but your duty has ended. Regrettable, even shameful, but there it is. Your bid for the throne is over. You must leave this city, perhaps the imperium too.’

‘I don’t require you to tell me my duty. Believe me; no one knows better how dangerous this is. Besides, my duty will not end until my death and you know that.’

Cathya’s pacing halted. ‘Which could happen soon if you don’t listen to me,’ she hissed. She still hadn’t forgiven her. Well, Aiyana had done what was necessary, although attending conclave had been a risk, and that revelation was a complication. No need to tell the woman she was right, however. She had enough moral high ground to stand on as it was.

‘My sources,’ Cathya went on, ‘inform me anyone close to you has either disappeared, or has since thrown their lot in with Avitus. Not enough to ratify her rule, but still. They killed Saelos. They tortured him to find you.’

‘I was here for that report.’ It hurt, knowing others died for her. It wasn’t what she’d wanted, but resisting Liviana meant many would die soon. Her father had taught her that sometimes such deaths were necessary, evil as they were. Once in power, she would set about building a new imperium, a new system that would right old wrongs and see the lowest rise. Still, she avoided mention of Cathya’s family with whom the Darken was estranged. No word on survivors, but the Shivar estate was gone.

‘Yet you insist on this foolery? You always insist on doing everything. Why won’t you accept help, and a little advice, for once?’

‘You shouldn’t be up walking about,’ Aiyana mumbled, half glancing at the woman. ‘You should be resting. After all, I’ve more foolery to be getting on with in a bit. You’ll need your strength.’

She thought she heard the woman mutter, ‘... the strength to strangle you.’

The bodyguard fingered the bandages at her side, still muttering, winced and resumed her pacing. She had saved Aiyana’s life twice since the conclave had met three days ago. This was the third safe house they’d moved to. Liviana, apparently, wasn’t a happy woman. That was to the good. Anger made for mistakes, or well, that was the idea.

‘She’s not going to let one little upstart stand in her way,’ said Cathya. ‘She suspected you still lived before. Since your stunt, she now knows it and to make it worse, you decided to infuriate her beyond reason. How is that supposed to help?’

‘That’s how you see me, is it? Little?’

‘Don’t put words in my mouth.’

‘You said them.’ It wasn’t that Aiyana wanted to goad her Darken. She was tired of this argument. She’d never seen her this on edge and nothing she could say short of, ‘Yes, Cath, my dear, I will flee the city immediately, and obey you the rest of my days,’ would soothe the woman. Red hair equals a red temper, as the saying went.

‘You will be dead by sundown tomorrow.’

‘Good to know. Make the arrangements will you. I like white lilies, oh and Liviana’s not invited.’

‘Now, you just sound like your brother.’

Aiyana sighed, massaging her forehead. ‘Liviana wants more than the throne, Cath. I saw it in her eyes. She seeks something grander than just the power to rule. I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I will. We haven’t failed because Liviana hasn’t begun. She must know she can’t take the throne and hold on to it, not with my sister still alive.’ She recalled Davard’s words and wondered if that was true. ‘She doesn’t control the legions. No, she’s up to something else.’

‘You mean those wretched overfed brutes.’

‘She’s drawing them here. Once they arrive, then you can start to panic.’ Rumour had turned to fact over a few days. The Nephilim had arrived, and in numbers by all accounts. There were scouts in Aiyana’s employ and she trusted them. Ships had landed on the Adalalcas coast. This time it was no raid. ‘I’m convinced that harridan has something to do with them. Even if she doesn’t, she’ll use them to unite the city and the legions behind her. I cannot allow that.’

Cathya huffed and stood glaring at her with fists on hips. ‘I am not panicking. I’m just ... concerned. That is my job, you know.’

Their current safe house was once a merchant’s dwelling. The whitewashed walls were thick, the wooden floor well maintained. Most of the poorer houses in Icarthya didn’t have glass like this one, just shutters or goatskin. Torches lit the interior on bronze sconces. Heavy linen curtains prevented light leaking out. A Soul & Fury games board made of lacquered wood sat on a table, the ivory pieces in play. Like Cathya, Aiyana enjoyed strategy, but tonight had no appetite or patience. Losing four games in a row would do that, but then Cathya always chose Fury. Aiyana always won with Soul, but not against her Darken.

‘I’ll admit you’re right about one thing,’ Aiyana said, rising from the cot. She grabbed a brush from a stand and dragged it through her tangled golden hair. She’d been tying it up and stuffing it under a cap whenever they moved. Wearing a worker’s tunic and breeches, along with boots, she looked nothing like a princess. Her face was filthy. She needed a mirror, a bath, and several other things she couldn’t have. The cot was wooden and falling apart, the mattress stuffed with straw. She missed her own soft bed in the palace, and Holy Spectrum above, what she wouldn’t give for a cup of green tea.

She moved to the wooden hexagon board and picked up Hearth, moving it two places to the right and one forwards. An aggressive move for Soul, but playing defensively against Cathya never worked. She still had Fire and Spirit shielded behind four Guardians. It would take a full assault by Cathya to win, which she usually did.

‘What do you mean?’ Her Darken was eyeing the board. Her Sage and Warrior protected as always, she moved her Nemesis one and a legion two and two left, trapping Aiyana’s Zealot. Fury always received two moves to Soul’s one, but Soul had far stronger pieces. That one had been the strongest.

‘We will be leaving.’

‘Thank the Spectrum above for good sense.’ Cathya grabbed her by the shoulders, nearly knocking over the board, and kissed her long and deep. ‘We should go within the hour,’ she then added, somewhat out of breath.

‘More like a few days, maybe weeks.’ Aiyana had enjoyed the kiss, too few of those lately, but she couldn’t give in now.

‘What?’ Her Darken stood there with a reddening face. Relief turned to anger. ‘Now you listen to me. Staying in this city—’

‘Could even be months. We knew what we were up against when we took this course. I must see it through. I will leave when my people are safe.’

‘Yes, we did,’ Cathya agreed, ‘but as you know, the best of plans can fall apart. Ours did the moment she shared your brother’s nature. Your name and reputation are tarnished. It is over.’ Her hand touched a hilt on her hip. It was wooden but banded with gold. ‘I can force you to leave, Yana. It is within my right and power to do so.’

Aiyana touched the other woman’s cheek with a caress. ‘Your duty isn’t to prevent me from a course of action, my love. It’s to keep me alive no matter the course I take.’

‘Don’t try to muddy the issue. You always do that. I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself, not when there is no hope of winning.’

The conclave had scattered since her stand against Liviana, those who could, fleeing the city or into hiding. There would be no vote, and Liviana would want revenge for that. That wouldn’t stop Avitus, but it had slowed her. Physically placing her butt on the throne didn’t make her imperatrix, and the woman knew it. A few conclavists might still support Aiyana, if Liviana left any alive. Her people needed her. With the possibility of a war with the Nephilim, a ruler with the will and desire to protect the people had to be in charge, and soon.

They heard a rap on the front door, and a guardswoman admitted a soldier, who wore a commoner’s faded blue woollen cloak over boiled leather armour. The cloak was tattered and smelling of fish. Captain Turol shook out the fine coating of droplets, his armour creaking.

He then walked straight to Cathya, and stood waiting for orders. Aiyana had not given him any order to come here. Why was he looking to her?

‘Cath, what is this?’

‘You will be coming with us,’ said Cathya to the captain. ‘We’re going to get her out, whether she likes it or not, which she doesn’t. She will not come quietly.’

Aiyana struggled to believe her ears. ‘You are not an imbecile. Quit behaving like one. I cannot defeat Liviana if I’m not even present in the city. I am staying.’

‘I don’t advise that, my lady,’ said Turol, in a serious voice. ‘Nephilim are marching from the coast. Enough reports have confirmed that they are in large numbers. Exemplars scour the city for you as we speak, and we are running out of places to hide you. You cannot stay.’

Aiyana swore under her breath. ‘Did I ask you for your opinion, Turol? Have you risen so high that you now dabble in political circles?’

‘Yana,’ her Darken snapped. ‘This isn’t a game like we used to play when we were children. They will kill you.’ She turned back to the captain, leaving Aiyana open mouthed. ‘What is the route?’

‘There is a church not far from here, just a few streets. There’s an old crypt beneath, long forgotten. They won’t know of it.’

‘We need to get out of here quietly, but that way is impossible. The old crypts are a warren. A wrong turn and we could end up beneath the palace. Is that the best you got?’

‘They captured two of my men. I barely made it here at all. With the princess in tow, we’ll never make it, not above ground. There is no other route and no time to find one. My soldiers will create havoc in the streets and alleyways, to cover our escape.’

Aiyana stood there in disbelief as they discussed her exit from the city as if she were not present, as if her leaving was a foregone conclusion. ‘As your princess,’ she said, in case they’d forgotten, which they appeared to have, ‘I’m informing both of you treacherous cretins that I am going nowhere.’

The captain seemed oblivious of her, or perhaps he just didn’t care, as he continued, ‘The men she took won’t remain silent forever. Most of the exemplar guard remain loyal to her. Most of them are, well, they’ve ... changed. My plan is your best hope, and it must be now.’

Cathya did glance at her then. ‘Fine, fine,’ she said, ‘then how and where do we exit the crypts once we’re in them?’

‘Are either of you halfwits listening?’

‘They join the sewers beneath the city, a quarter mile in,’ said Turol. ‘Bit of a walk through those, but it’s the shortest distance to the river without going above ground. We can take a boat from there north for a bit, and then ride north to Willow Lake, and then the Noy southwest. Roads are too dangerous. Another boat will be waiting at the lake. All is ready.’

‘Enough,’ Aiyana snapped. ‘I’m not allowing you to smuggle me out of this city.’

The captain shrugged. ‘Smuggling goods or smuggling people. What’s the difference? You’ll be safe, I promise.’

Aiyana spluttered, searching for a suitable cutting response, and failing.

‘Alright, it’s a good plan,’ said Cathya, ‘all considered.’

‘I still think we should bring extra men.’

‘A small group has a better chance of getting by unseen. If it comes to fighting, we’ve already lost.’

Aiyana glared at them both. ‘I’m the one in charge here,’ was all she managed, realising she had lost control of the situation. ‘Cathya Shivar, you’ve sworn to obey me, whatever about this grolg-brain. It appears he’ll obey anything with shaved legs.’

The captain affected not to notice the insult, and Cathya smiled. ‘I was sworn to protect you since I was a toddler, and yes to obey you, but one overrides the other. I’m sorry, but it’s for your own good.’

‘What about my people? You’re not thinking about them. You’re asking me to abandon them.’

Cathya turned away to speak with the captain further. ‘The rate those exemplars are scouring this city, they’ll find her in a day or sooner, so I agree with your assessment. We leave now.’ She grabbed her cloak and followed the soldier to the door. ‘Wait outside. We’ll be a minute.’

‘Wait, you Grim-blinded wretches,’ Aiyana hissed. ‘I told you, I’m not going. Threaten me all you like with that dagger; we both know you’d never harm me. I am not going and you can’t force me.’ That last bit sounded a bit foolish, but she folded her arms and thrust her chin up. She’d said it and meant it.

Her Darken turned from the door and strode back towards her, with a disarming smile. She ran a hand through her short red hair, a habit when nervous. Too right, she should be nervous. This was treachery. ‘You know I love you,’ she said, embracing her with a kiss. Aiyana stiffened. ‘What I do is because I love you. Please, remember that.’

Aiyana knew it was too late when she felt the sting in her neck. She stumbled into Cathya’s arms. ‘You ... bitch,’ was all she managed before darkness took her.