The Fiend Queen (23 page)

“That’s a long time to hold a grudge.”

“The Umbriels were able to maintain a secret society since they first arrived here,” Dawnmother said. “Why would you think no one else could?”

A secret order dedicated to pushing the Farradains out of Marienne? Hopelessly outnumbered, perhaps the tunnel builders thought Yanchasa was their only hope for victory. But if they knew how to summon Yanchasa, then the method wasn’t as lost as Katya had originally assumed.

Katya peered up the tunnel that ran along the pyramid’s side. Luckily, it wasn’t a straight climb; the tunnel zigged and zagged in a series of ledges. If they were careful, they wouldn’t need rope. “Shall we climb?”

Redtrue cradled her ribs as if the idea pained her. Dawnmother helped her bind them tighter, but Katya knew she’d be in agony before she reached the top.

“I could go alone,” Katya said. “You command the light pyramid to keep glowing; I try to make myself known at the top.”

“If there is no one in the capstone chamber, you would never be heard,” Dawnmother pointed out.

“I can get us through the stone,” Redtrue said. She glanced at Dawnmother. “But you could stay and wait for help.”

Dawnmother tossed her braid over her shoulder. “And then who would help the two of you to the top? Off you go. I’ll be just behind.”

Katya stepped into the short tunnel, ignored the bloody writing on the wall, and wiped her hands on her trousers. Grabbing hold of the jagged tunnel lip above, she bounced a couple times on her toes and then used the side of the pyramid to push up. She found the first platform of stone, a little nook she could fold part of herself into, balancing on her knees. The tunnel resembled a stubby stairwell that more or less followed the pyramid’s side. Katya pulled up into a new hollow and then had to turn and brace against the pyramid again. If she slipped, she wouldn’t go far before banging into the next lip down. It was hard going, but at least the tunnel offered many chances to sink down in a crouch against the pyramid’s smooth surface.

She had to wonder if the tunnel builders had hoped to make something more permanent, replacing this body-torturing tunnel with steps driven into the pyramid’s side or a rope they could use to haul themselves up. But the Order of Vestra hadn’t given them the chance. If they had managed to break into the capstone cavern, they would have been kicking themselves when they found the tunnels the Farradains had made for that very purpose.

She closed her eyes when she rested, imagining a sunny meadow or wide forest. As she climbed, she tried to think only of the top, but she had no way of knowing how high they’d progressed. No matter which way she turned, the rock waited only a foot from her face.

When Katya stopped to rest again, she closed her eyes and thought of the great Fiend that slumbered behind her back. Was Yanchasa ever restless? She’d felt the trembles as Roland tried to wake it, but did it always twitch slightly, something they wouldn’t feel? Did it know she was so close? Maybe it could sense Redtrue as she could sense it.

Katya tried to shake such thoughts away. “How’s everyone doing?”

Only the sound of breathing answered for a few moments. “Keeping up,” Dawnmother called.

“Can we rest?” Redtrue said as a series of gasps.

“Lean against the pyramid if you can.”

Redtrue mumbled something about trying to stay away from the pyramid as much as she could.

“A losing battle, no?” Dawnmother called. “I’m sure Horsestrong’s wisdom is in there somewhere, but I can’t think of it right now.”

Katya didn’t want to nag them to keep going. Redtrue couldn’t be having an easy time. But grief and anxiety and fear were piling up inside Katya. If she didn’t get out of this dark, close place, this city of the dead, she’d clap her hands over her eyes and scream.

“I’m going to keep on,” Katya said.

She heard Redtrue grumble to a start again. Good. If she’d been forced to scream at the top and hope that someone would hear her, she might have gone mad.

Katya commanded her arms to grab hold of the next ledge. She told herself to turn, to brace against the pyramid and push up, and then turn again. She shut out everything else, only slowing when the light began to dim, and she knew Redtrue had stopped to rest. Then Katya braced her back, closed her eyes, and lost herself in the tingling relief of her resting arms and the protests from her thighs.

When the light came closer, Katya climbed, using raw, bleeding fingers to search for the next hold. Finally she turned, felt upward, and encountered only smooth stone.

“We’re here,” she called.

“Horsestrong be praised!” Dawnmother called.

Redtrue only mumbled something.

“Can you feel the stone?” Katya asked. She bent until she could see Redtrue’s face just below her.

“Give me time.”

Katya fought the urge to say that she wanted out of this cursed place now. She took a deep breath, counted to five, and let it out again. When she’d done this three times, the stone above her head shifted.

Katya watched it closely, picturing the whole of it crashing down. They wouldn’t be able to make it down the tunnel before the entire place caved in. And even if by some miracle they did, where could they go?

The stone rippled, shifting away from the pyramid’s side. Some of it trickled past, turned to sand, and Katya closed her teeth on a yelp. As the rock flowed, it left a gap just large enough to slide through, a way to wriggle between pyramid and stone.

Katya eyed the small gap and knew she couldn’t do it, couldn’t go where the stone would be pushing against her back and chest, cutting off her air.

“We need to go higher,” Redtrue said, “before I can focus again.”

Katya opened her mouth, but no sound would come out. She couldn’t say what she wanted to, that she’d wait here for rescue. They could climb past her.

But the space was too small for that.

All of them could live here together! Redtrue would make a hole big enough for the people above to pass them food and water, and they’d be fine. She nearly laughed, but she knew how shrill and crazed she would sound.

Katya lifted her arms into the gap while her brain shrieked that she couldn’t do this, she wouldn’t. Her body would shut itself off in protest.

No! By all ten spirits, she would do her damned duty! She had hunted traitors, fought Fiends, rode at the head of an army, killed a dear friend, and watched her mother die. “I will not be defeated by a fucking hole in the ground,” she said between clenched teeth.

The stone continued to shift above her head, and she wriggled upward, eyes closed so she wouldn’t have to see the rock inches from her nose. Redtrue’s ragged breathing followed. Dawnmother grunted as she climbed, no doubt pushing Redtrue upward.

Katya clutched the wall and gritted her teeth, tasting the dust, becoming one with it. She felt far above her head and finally encountered empty air.

She turned her head as much as she could, amazed at the soft glow coming from above instead of below. She launched herself upward but slipped, sliding downward a few inches. Redtrue cried a protest. Katya took a shallow breath, all she could manage with the stone pressing against her. She forced herself to calm before she inched upward and pulled into the toothy maw of the capstone cavern.

Starbride

Starbride sat cross-legged in the dungeon while Roland slept on the floor. Einrich and the others had made excuses and left. She knew they were pained by the sight of their kinsman, though she couldn’t say why. Roland wasn’t fearsome anymore. Without the powers of flesh, he was less than nothing, just as she’d suspected all along. He was still a pyradisté, and the dungeon was full of trap pyramids, but without the flesh magic riding him, he couldn’t retune them. He hadn’t learned their secrets as she had.

Starbride felt over Roland with flesh magic and brought him awake with a start.

He gasped, eyes wide. When his gaze landed on her, he uttered a low moan. “What have you done?”

“Sorry, we’ve done that bit already.” Einrich had kept asking it even after she told him.

Roland felt along his face. “You took the Fiend away.”

“There are no such things as Fiends.”

He glanced at her sharply. “You’ve taken it into yourself.”

Yanchasa appeared behind him. “I can’t stand the way they say that.”

Starbride sighed. “He or she. There is no
it
.”

Roland trembled, pale. She remembered Maia’s first awakening in the strength chapterhouse after they’d rescued her: shock followed by crippling sorrow as she remembered everything she’d done. Of course, Maia had only been under the influence of Yanchasa’s darker side for a few months. Roland had been living with it for eight years.

He curled around himself and sobbed.

“Crying won’t save you now,” Starbride said.

“I want to die!” He crawled toward her, all the way to the end of his chains. “I was trying to help everyone!” He blinked. “Or was I?”

Would Einrich thank her if she killed him? “Your time will come.” She’d let Einrich decide. If he asked her to kill his brother, she would, but it had to be his decision.

“You can’t let it control you.” The stump of Roland’s right arm grazed her boot. “Get rid of it before it’s too late.”

“
It
again,” Yanchasa said. “Idiot.”

“Just because you were afraid of power doesn’t mean I am,” Starbride said.

He laughed, hysterical shrieks echoing around the cell. When he stilled, he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. “I kept some control. Even with the Fiend, I kept some of myself, but you’re lost.”

“I have more of my mind than you ever did!”

He shook his head, tears leaving tracks across his temples. “I wanted everyone to be happy, whether they wanted it or not. No crime, no traitors, just bliss.”

“Happy to starve to death, to burn?”

“You won’t care about anything. You’ll remake us to suit your needs or just turn us to dust.” His eyes drifted shut. “Dust.”

“The loss of my flesh has driven him insane,” Yanchasa said.

Starbride couldn’t let it go so easily. “I am myself, you charlatan. Yanchasa’s shown me more than you could ever imagine while you existed on scraps. You were brutal and petty, the only aspects of mighty Belshreth you could understand.”

He laughed again. “You’ve killed us all.”

“Come away, daughter,” Yanchasa said.

Starbride stood to join him at the cell door when Roland called out.

“Have you found them all yet?”

Starbride paused. “Found what?”

“Me.”

Her heart sped a little faster, and she thought of Alphonse, Roland’s copy. “How many are there?”

He beat one fist against his forehead as if trying to remember. “I lost track. Please, don’t let them hurt anyone else.”

“Now you need my power? Where are these copies?”

“I sent them out for Katya!” He beamed at her like a child expecting praise. “That’s where they must be.”

She shrugged. “Then they’re dead. I destroyed your army.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I don’t want your thanks!” The adsna dulled, snuffed by a tide of anger. “You should burn, you bastard, die the way she did!” She thrust her arm forward, ready to call upon the same destructive sphere that had swallowed Katya and Dawnmother.

The adsna hit her with such force that she staggered. It swept away her feelings like a harsh winter wind. When she straightened, she couldn’t even remember what anger felt like.

“Softly, daughter,” Yanchasa said. “He could be useful. The more the king depends on your power—either to kill this man or wring information from him—the more solid your position will be.”

Solid, yes. Everyone needed to believe she could finish what she started. Starbride strode from the cell and shut the door. “No good can come from losing my temper.”

“Excellent, daughter. Everyone in the kingdom will benefit from your wisdom.”

And if they wouldn’t listen, she would not take Roland’s path. She would show them she was right, carefully, calmly, and a good way to start was by continuing to help with city reconstruction.

When she reached the receiving room that guarded the way out of the palace, her parents were waiting. Starbride pulled up short, uneasy, the adsna fluttering in and out of reach.

“They are just two more people, daughter,” Yanchasa said.

“You don’t know them,” Starbride mumbled. She could race around them, she supposed, but she’d have to confront them sometime. She steeled herself for their embrace.

Her mother got to her first, throwing her arms around Starbride and doling out both love and recriminations, as if nothing had happened in the time they’d been apart. They didn’t stare at her pyramids, but she knew the questions would come soon enough.

When her father swallowed her in a hug, her world seemed to buckle as it had when Einrich had embraced her. Much as he claimed to care, though, Einrich wasn’t her father, hadn’t been the one to hold her when she was hurt, to sing to her when she was sick. She recalled spending hours on her father’s lap while he plied his trade, lithe brown fingers bending silver or gold, working with tiny stones held in tweezers.

“Papa,” she sobbed into his shoulder.

“It’s all right, my lucky Star.”

Starbride’s mother harrumphed. “It is most certainly not all right. This place is a shambles. I’ve had to give no end of advice about how to set it straight.”

Starbride laughed through her tears. “I’m sure you minded that a great deal.”

“We’ll have none of your lip, thank you.”

Starbride pulled back to look at them both. Her mother had changed into one of the frothy dresses the Farradains favored. Her hair had been artfully arranged on top of her head, no doubt by Rainhopeful, who hovered just behind her. Her father wore flowing Allusian trousers, though her mother had forced him into an embroidered Farradain coat. It seemed a little loose, as if she’d borrowed it from someone, or maybe he’d just lost weight. His round face seemed gaunter than she remembered, and both of them had more gray mixed with their black hair.

Her father’s servant, Lakeloyal, stood beside Rainhopeful, and Starbride nodded to both of them. Their nod back was hesitant, tinged with sorrow, and she knew why. Not for Katya, but for Dawnmother. All Allusians servants would be giving her that look now.