The Turquoise Tower (Revenant Wyrd Book 6) (16 page)

He lifted the cloth blinds, allowing in the light from the city, and studied his surroundings. The house of the High Votary wasn’t cut off from the rest of the city by any kind of wall or fence, as Deven might have imagined, but was instead right at street level for easy access to and from the house. To his surprise all of Lytoria, despite covering an area nearly as large as the Ivory City, was very simple. Most buildings were only one level, and certainly no higher than two stories. And clean! There was such cleanliness about the city that Deven doubted for a moment that anyone actually lived there, even though he knew it was a central trading hub.

A knock came to his door, and he jumped.

“Hey,” Clara said, stepping inside his room. It was so small that the addition of a second body made it almost feel cramped. “Pi and I are going to go check out the city since everyone else is tied up. Would you like to come along?”

Devenstar smiled. Since Cianna had left, Clara and Pi were taking every opportunity to include him in things.
It’s not like I’m a wreck because she’s gone,
he thought, slicking his long hair back into a ponytail. But that wasn’t exactly true; even now he found himself gazing to the north, wondering where she was at that moment, and when she might come back . . .
If she comes back,
he couldn’t help but think.

He shook his head to clear it of negative thoughts. Clara sighed.

“Alright, if you change your mind we’ll be in the city center,” she said, misunderstanding his gesture.

“What? Oh, no, I will come, just let me change,” he said, shooing her out of the room so he could change into something more comfortable for sightseeing. His parents had taught him well, and he had dressed in his finest outfit to meet the High Votary. But they were good clothes, and he didn’t want to get them dirty.

As he finished tying his trousers, he gave a wistful thought to Cianna. He wondered what she was doing now, and if she was okay. He would send a message orb, but they’d already discussed that. Cianna had said that once it was over she would find him, and they couldn’t communicate before then in case it gave away her position.

With a sigh, he opened his door and joined his sister and her girlfriend in the hall.

Lytoria was the seat of the Goddess in the Great Realms. Some thought that it should have been the Ivory City, since that's where council meetings happened and because it was the main arts center of the realms, as well as being the largest city in the lands. Originally a large basilica had been built in the Ivory City, but when people started claiming that in a certain part of Lytoria the holy lilac trees and plum trees stayed in bloom all year long, minds changed. When the phenomenon was observed, the Holy See quickly changed its mind as well. And Grace could see why. While the Ivory City was a pleasure to see with its towering buildings and throngs of people, Lytoria was a different sight all together. Even in winter, lilac trees and plum trees scented the air of the garden in which she stepped into, out of the rojo.

Grace stayed when the Guardians were whisked away, wondering what they were about to see, and what Atorva might be hiding from general sight. She hoped it was something to give them a leg up on what was coming, but she wasn’t sure such a thing was possible.

Dalah stood beside her, and together they observed the lilac trees, their fragrant flowers coated in a sugaring of snow.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Dalah asked.

Grace nodded. “I’m sorry Rose has to miss this.”

Dalah made a noise in her throat in agreement.

“Do you feel that?” Grace asked. “In the air?”

“No,” Dalah asked. “What am I supposed to be feeling?”

“I don’t know, it’s almost like a song,” Grace said. She smiled, listening to the song drifting through the air. At times it was just a whisper, but at other times it was as if each and every building were humming in tandem, creating a chorus of heavenly proportions.

“Well, there is an energy in Lytoria, certainly,” Dalah said. “In my architecture studies, before I built Fairview Heights, I had studied Lytoria greatly. There’s an energy here to calm the mind, put the spirit to peace. Lytoria was built with a special ore that vibrates when any light hits it. The greater the light, like that of the sun, the greater the vibration, the weaker the light, the lower the vibration. So at night, the moon will make the city hum a kind of energy lullaby, allowing for easier sleep.”

Grace was always amazed at how much she didn’t know about the land she lived in. She had once thought she was very wise about all the towns and cities of the Great Realms, having spent much time in each over the years. But here was Dalah, telling her things she had never known before.

“And that’s not all; the thickness of the walls of each building will change the depth of the vibration. It’s strange that you can actually hear it,” Dalah said, appraising Grace with a critical eye.

Grace just shrugged her shoulders, but the peace of the song was starting to worry her. If most people couldn’t hear it, then why could she? As Dalah spoke about some of the finer points of the construction that had gone into the holy city, Grace’s mind drifted back to her dreams of the Goddess. She tried to pretend she couldn’t hear the song, because she was certain it had something to do with those dreams, something to do with her and what she was.

Am I the vessel of prophecy?
Grace wondered. She hadn’t thought of the prophecy in a long time, and even then she didn’t fully believe what she’d read. She put it out of mind. Grace didn’t like thinking about it, but it would explain how she’d been able to live so long. Not many people asked her true age, and the truth was Grace wouldn’t have been able to tell them. In fact, she could scarcely remember what day her birthday was. The one thing she could tell people was that dhasturin didn’t typically live longer than regular people.

But the song started to turn dark, or rather the light of the song began clashing with something dark inside the city. Grace’s breath caught, trying to decipher what the darkness was she was feeling, what she was sensing. It was like a film on the eye of her mind, a flitting cloud, trapped in the city, and anxious to be out, but every time she tried to get a location on the darkness, it drifted away from her grasp.

A moan came from behind her, and Grace turned. Mag was standing there, a hand placed on her head.

“What’s wrong?” Grace asked her, reaching out to take her arm.

“Don’t touch me,” Mag said, recoiling from her.

“Mag, what’s wrong with you?” Dalah asked, looking concerned.

The woman moaned again and then straightened. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just not feeling well.”

“Maybe you should go rest,” Grace said, a look of concern crossing her face.

“I think that’s wise,” Mag said, and her guards led her off toward the High Votary’s house.

Mag couldn’t explain her reaction to Grace or this place. She’d been in Lytoria before; it was one of the tests she’d placed upon herself after she had changed who she had been. Nothing strange had happened then, so she couldn’t understand what was happening now, but every part of her ached like two forces were warring inside of her, and only one would win. She felt like she might split in two before it was all over, and honestly, ending all of it might be the better option. She was in so much physical pain she could barely handle it.

But when Grace had reached for her, something inside snapped and she had recoiled, like Grace was an enemy, and Mag a wounded animal. She just knew she didn’t want Grace placing even a single finger on her.

She furrowed her brows together in thought but she felt something at her side, like the force inside of her was drawing her attention to the right. When she looked, she saw Astanel, walking placidly beside the guards, as if he was doing nothing more than following them to where their rooms were kept. Mag knew what he was really doing: scouting out where she was being taken so he would know where he had to go when the time came, and Mag had to be released from the bonds that held her captive.

“What is this place?” Joya asked, stepping further into the shimmering silvery light. She felt drawn to the nimbus of shifting blue light in the center of the courtyard. A strange sensation was infusing her body — lack of cold. She hadn’t realized how cold she had been all along the way in this adventure, until they had reached Vorustum-Apaleer. Now that she was within the alien city, she felt warm, like the cold couldn’t touch here, despite there being snow all around, on the buildings and cleared away in paths through the towers and spires.

“Don’t you recognize it?” Macco asked, turning his unseeing eyes on Joya. She didn’t know if that would ever make her
not
shiver. The eyes reminded her of the dead. “I would think all angels would be able to tell what this place was without explanation.”

“We aren’t fully angels yet,” Angelica said.

“Ah, but one of you is,” Macco said, looking toward Cianna. “She can tell what this place is.”

Joya turned and looked at their cousin. It was so easy for her to forget that Cianna wasn’t human, and instead full angel. “Is this true? Can you feel what this place is?”

Cianna looked concerned, like she wasn’t certain what she thought the place was. She studied the buildings with their strange lilting words slithering across the walls.

“A city of angels?” she asked, casting a questioning glance back at the ancient giant.

Macco nodded. “It used to be a place for all angels and their offspring to call home. It’s been abandoned now for many eons.”

“So this is where the grigori had their families?” Jovian said. He sounded breathless, awed almost. Joya could feel the same humble feeling her brother felt.

Macco nodded. “It isn’t a place for humans, but they weren’t exactly kept out of Vorustum-Apaleer.” His voice rumbled like the rhythms of the earth.

Joya looked around her, trying to imagine what it had been like with angels among the buildings and walkways, arching through the cold sky. It was hard for her to imagine, but the city seemed to come to life around them, and for a moment she could sense another place and time through the veil of the present, as if
maybe
there really were still angels living in Vorustum-Apaleer, just in a different Vorustum-Apaleer, and not in the Great Realms. The thought made her dizzy. Was that even possible?

“It is possible,” Macco said, looking at the majestic towers around him. “This place is thought to not be of this world. It is said to be a star that crashed from the heavens before anything existed in the Great Realms besides the trees and the earth. The veil of worlds is weaker here, and ages ago the angels thought they could even travel between worlds while within the confines of this city.”