Page 27 of Of the Abyss


  If the question had been asked with the same sympathetic concern as his first one, she would have tolerated it. As it was, she bristled. “My mother was the most sought-­after paid companion in Kavet. I know how to count my cycle.”

  “Is there much call for that in the Order of the Napthol?” Umber asked, with the same casually mocking tone. “And was your mother sleeping with Abyssi?”

  The habit of watching her cycle to avoid sex during her fertile period had been drilled into her from the day of her first menstruation, when her mother had sat her down to explain the possible consequences of intimacy—­Scarlet being what she was, she had included “unwanted emotional entanglements” right before pregnancy—­and how to avoid them. She had also taught Cadmia the herbs women could employ to further protect themselves, but those probably weren’t available in the Abyss.

  Cadmia was about to say something biting in return when Umber’s previous words caught up to her: I had a mother. She knew what Umber was but had never stopped to consider where he had come from.

  “Was your mother an Abyssumancer?” she asked. If so, had he seen her arrested by the Quin? Had he tried, and failed, to save her? Or had he lost her to the ever-­hungry power and needed to flee his own parent?

  “No.” At first she didn’t think he intended to say more. His gaze traveled the ceiling as if an answer was written in the slick stone. Not looking at her, he said, “Her name was Bonnie Holland.”

  He said the name as if she should recognize it, but it meant nothing to her. “I’m sorry. Should I know who that is?”

  “Hansa would know,” he said. “Speaking of my favorite Quin, let’s see what he’s made for our breakfast.” Umber changed the subject without subtlety or apology, but Cadmia made a mental note to ask Hansa as soon as they had a private moment.

  If they ever did. First they needed to travel with an incomprehensible Abyssi and a desperate Abyssumancer into the heart of the Abyss to rescue a sorcerer who had once been offered a throne in the infernal realm.

  CHAPTER 32

  We will be with you.

  “Can’t you tell me anything more?” Xaz pleaded with her Numini. “I am your willing servant.” If having no other choices counted as willing. “I am preparing to walk into the deepest level of the Abyss for you, with allies I’m not sure I can trust. I fear only failure to achieve your desires.” Also death, devouring and enslavement to Abyssi.

  She thought the Numini would dismiss her again, but instead she felt his resignation like a drift of snow across her skin. The Abyssumancer is right that our brilliance can conceal you from the creatures of the lower Abyss. We used to use it to shelter those we protected, in the world before the realms were rift. Wait to cast it until you are past the glow of fires and luminescence that light the higher levels of the Abyss. It will not help against creatures who use their eyes to hunt, and you need to save your limited strength.

  “Thank you,” she breathed, grateful for the assurance.

  Your bond to us will protect you, and the Abyssumancer’s bond to his master will protect him, but your other human companions must not look on the lower Abyssi in their natural forms, he warned. Cover their eyes or they will suffer madness from which even our grace cannot save them.

  Xaz shuddered, thinking of the sight of Antioch’s and Alizarin’s battle, and recalling that they were only from the third and fourth level. “I am grateful for your protection.”

  His power wrapped her, and for once she thought she felt a hint of fondness from the creature who was sending her on this likely suicide mission. I will be with you, he said. Know that. The comfort in those words was somewhat lessened when he added, You are my chosen servant, and you are dear to me. If you fall along the way, I will bring you home.

  She emerged from her trance disoriented, coughing and sputtering, as if the Numini had exhausted any gentleness he possessed with that last statement and then needed to rid himself of her presence like a prickling burr.

  The others, gathered around the table packing supplies, looked up at her expectantly.

  “He says Naples is right that I should be able to hide us from the lower Abyssi,” she reported. Her voice was hoarse, and there was a rime of ice gathered around her splayed fingers on the table. She cleared her throat and continued. “He also says we need to make sure to blindfold Hansa and Cadmia so they don’t see the lower Abyssi and lose their minds.”

  Hansa froze in the middle of testing the weight of his bag, let out a breath, shook his head, and set it down with a klunk. “What happens if you die in the Abyss?” he asked, his voice a bit too jolly, bordering on hysterical.

  “Supposedly, you stay in the Abyss,” Umber said. “Some say you fall to a deeper level. Not even the Abyssi really understand.”

  “Well then, it’s a good thing we’re going to find a guy who can raise the dead out of ash.”

  “I’ll ask Aurelian for some fabric we can use for blindfolds,” Cadmia said more practically.

  As she left the room, Naples came in and dropped a heavy bundle on one of the chairs—­the armor he had been wearing when they first met, plus additional protection and weaponry. Xaz watched with increasing alarm as he put on the vest, high boots, bracers, and five knives—­one on the outer edge of each boot, two at his waist and one strapped to his upper arm—­to his outfit.

  “I thought you said we wouldn’t be fighting?” she asked, eyeing the daggers.

  Naples pulled out the dagger sheathed at his upper arm, holding it up so they could all admire the fine, sinuous blade, which was glistening black and let off a reddish glow of damped power. He flipped it around deftly, showing off the fact that the weapon was all one piece, the handle made of the same material but less polished, so it was ashy, matte black. It looked as if it had been made to fit his hand.

  “Anyone know what this is?” he asked.

  Umber nodded. “It’s made with a bone from an Abyssi,” he said. “Who did you kill for it?”

  “This is a souvenir from one of Alizarin’s visits to the first-­level court,” Naples replied. “He wanted me to make a special one for him, but I needed to practice the technique before using more precious materials.” Naples sheathed the blade again in one slick movement. “Did you know an Abyssi can regrow an arm in less than a week?”

  He shot Xaz a look as he asked the seemingly idle question.

  “You!” she gasped, grasping the meaning instantly. “You made the knife Alizarin gave to Baryte of Alizarin’s own bone. That’s how he was able to bond with me. Did you convince Baryte you were his Abyssi when you had him throw it at me?”

  “No,” Naples replied, “I have no idea how Rin managed that part. Has it occurred to you that your Numini doesn’t seem to like you very much?”

  Xaz’s retort cut off and her jaw snapped shut. She couldn’t make the retort she wanted because, damn it, Naples was being intentionally insulting but he was also right. She wouldn’t put it past her Numini to prompt Baryte to throw the knife at her, then give her grief about it. Numini couldn’t lie, but they had never said, We didn’t cause this. They had only whined at her about the Abyssal taint in her power and told her she needed to fix it, which sent her to Umber, which sent her to the Abyss.

  “Can we get back to Xaz’s question of why you’re fully armed?” Hansa asked. “And why if you need to be, we aren’t? I can handle a weapon.”

  Naples shot him a condescending look. “I’m an Abyssumancer.”

  “So you require weaponry?”

  “I require my tools.”

  “Blood, pain, fire, flesh,” Umber murmured to Hansa, just loudly enough for Xaz to make out the words.

  Hansa cringed closer to Umber and grumbled, “As long as he keeps them far, far away from me.”

  “If I end up needing your power,” Naples replied, as he checked each of his daggers to make sure they were settled correctly in t
heir sheaths, “it will be because I’m having trouble keeping the Abyss from crashing down on our heads. So I suggest you don’t in that instant decide to be squeamish.”

  “Just how likely is that?” Xaz asked.

  Naples glanced up just long enough to cast her an amused look. “I’ve never been lower than the third level of the Abyss, and I’ve never traveled with so many ­people I needed to protect. So I’m not prepared to give you odds at this time.” In the middle of speaking, he turned toward the doorway, where a heartbeat later Azo appeared.

  Watching the way those two responded to each other made Xaz’s skin crawl. They predicted each other’s movements, moved toward each other like flowers bending toward the sun, but it was all a sham. Magic. How could two ­people be deeply in love yet so achingly miserable?

  “You’re still doing this?” Azo asked Naples. Their hushed conversation carried across the quiet room.

  Naples nodded, not meeting Azo’s gaze. “I’m doing it for you.”

  Azo winced. “You don’t have to . . .” She touched his cheek.

  He shut his eyes, and drew a deep breath. “You know it’s the bond talking. Once this is over . . . you’ll be glad. You will be.”

  “Will you?” she asked.

  “Don’t you think I—­” He clamped his mouth around his first response, then chose another. “We’ll both be.” The words sounded as if they hurt him to say. They clearly hurt her to hear.

  She pulled him close, and while he didn’t pull away, there was an exacting care in the way he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her oh so gently.

  Low enough that the words shouldn’t carry to the ­couple across the room, Hansa asked Umber, “What kind of bond do they have?”

  Xaz eavesdropped on Umber’s equally quiet response, both from curiosity and self-­defense. They needed Naples for this plan to work.

  “Heartbond. Naples’ power is what makes it affect them both, instead of just him.”

  Hansa didn’t ask for clarification. Xaz didn’t either. No one could look at the spawn and mancer in the doorway and fail to see the anguished love when they looked at each other. Given the careful dance they both performed as they kissed, it was also clear that, unlike a fleshbond, a heartbond didn’t control physical attraction. That had to be awkward, given Naples’ obvious preference for men and the blurred line in the Abyss between sex and power.

  “Be safe,” Azo whispered. “Maybe you’re right about the bond, and when it is gone I will be pleased.” She swallowed, an audible sound. “If magic is all this is, has been, then when it is gone I imagine I’ll want to kill you if you ever cross my path again. So if it works, don’t come back here.” She choked out the words. “And . . . take care of your damned self on the way.”

  She spun away and walked out again.

  Naples didn’t look at anyone else, but devoted his attention to pulling on a cloak, tying it at the front to hide the arsenal he was wearing from any casual observer.

  Umber was the one who spoke, voice gentle. “Are you going to be able to do this?”

  Naples nodded sharply.

  “The first thing we need to do is find our way into the court,” he said. “With Alizarin, that will be easier. Xaz is bonded to him, Hansa is yours, and everyone there knows I’m—­” He cut off, shaking his head. “Anyway. We move fast, following Alizarin and keeping our heads down, just long enough to get to the well. Don’t speak to any of the Abyssi there. Hansa, Dioxazine, if you value your lives and your skins, do not say a word. They’ll defer to Alizarin, and they are supposed to respect the claim of the spawn, but the royals will mess with you given any excuse. Having a mortal speak to them is an insult and thus a valid excuse.”

  Hansa nodded. Xaz did the same, though she was looking forward to returning to the human realm someday so she could go back to being considered a person instead of property.

  Umber said, “That wasn’t my concern.”

  Naples glared at him, eyes flashing. “Don’t you think I see the way it kills her, when I—­” He let out an inarticulate sound of frustration. “I would be loyal to her bed, if I could. I would make love to her, if I could. I know it’s magic talking, but knowledge doesn’t change the fact that I would do anything to take that look of pain from her face.”

  “Ever consider chastity?” Hansa suggested, before biting his tongue. “Sorry. None of my business. I mean, except for my being on the other side of . . . never mind.”

  Xaz had only recently come to understand the connection between sex and sustenance in the Abyss. She didn’t think she would ever personally be comfortable with it, but she could predict Umber’s answer.

  “A chaste Abyssumancer cuts himself off from one of the four coins of power,” the spawn explained. “It would be like a human trying to live on bread and water. You can do it for a while, until you get the sailors’ disease and your muscles wither away from lack of meat. Azo wouldn’t let him, even if he tried.”

  “I can do this,” Naples said, concluding his answer to Umber’s question, “because I do it for her.” One of the servants came in and handed Naples another bag, this one smaller and made of what looked like felted fabric instead of leather. Naples held it as if it might bite, glanced inside briefly, then passed it to Dioxazine. “That’s all I can offer you.”

  Xaz looked inside, and her breath caught. “Where did you get these?”

  A sparkle of silver inside hummed with Numen power, but it was nothing compared to the long, soft plume of what had to be a Numini feather and a small vial she knew to contain Numini tears. Such powerful tools normally took weeks of ritual and pleading to acquire. It felt odd to hold them now and have no one else in the room evince any interest, but Hansa and Umber had turned back to their own tasks now and even Naples appeared only vaguely solicitous and uncomfortable.

  Naples said, “One of the Numini passed through here several years ago, seeking—­well, I suppose there’s no harm in admitting it now. He was trying to get to Terre Verte, the witch we’re after. He left those with me.”

  Xaz couldn’t help but notice what Naples hadn’t said. “What happened to him?”

  She could almost see Naples considering a lie, then realizing there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t raise more questions. “I don’t know. I never saw him again. All I know is that the cell is still intact, and was never opened.”

  Xaz exclaimed, “The Numini want me to do something they couldn’t?” The only reason she was considering this possible was that the Numini were willing to help her, but if they had already failed once, what hope did she have? She only remembered after she had spoken that they had agreed not to tell Naples about their divine orders.

  “Nice of you to get around to admitting it,” Naples said. “I was starting to worry you hadn’t noticed the divine dancing you all around like puppets.” Before Xaz could form an apology and explain why they had tried to deceive him, Naples continued. “The Numini who came here was shocked by how weak he became the moment he crossed into the Abyss, and he didn’t understand Abyssi. He planned to ask one for help, because like all Numini he was idiotic enough to believe ‘all things serve the divine.’ After the Abyssi ate him, as I’m sure they did, the other Numini must have come up with a new plan.”

  “And that’s when they decided to send me,” Xaz said, her voice unsettlingly close to a growl.

  “You, and me, and Hansa and Umber and Cadmia. If we survive this and Terre Verte can do what they say he can, we should all sit down and figure out the details,” Naples said. “Because you have realized even a Numini couldn’t arrange all this alone, haven’t you?”

  His coppery gaze settled on hers heavily, waiting.

  “I . . .” She trailed off. She hadn’t realized that. “Are you sure they couldn’t?”

  “Quite sure. There’s no point quibbling and speculating until we’ve fulfilled the boon and br
oken the bond, but I suggest we take a hard look at all the facts before anyone returns to the mortal realm.” He nodded to the bag, and the divine tools within. “In the meantime, will that help?”

  Head spinning with the implications, she closed the bag. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Finally they were ready to go. As soon as Alizarin returned and reported the way was as clear as it was ever likely to be, Naples reiterated his instructions.

  “Alizarin will lead us through the palace. Umber, you’ll be a little behind him, but still at the front of our party. The rest of us walk behind, mouths shut. Except for Alizarin and Umber, we speak to no one, even if they speak to us. Try not to look at the other Abyssi, or even think about them, no matter what is said or what you see. Alizarin, are you ready?”

  In response, Alizarin pushed his way through the door and back into the Abyss.

  Xaz hadn’t missed the slick black paths or the eerie perpetual twilight of the sky, but they seemed comfortable and homey compared to the hulking, irregular stone structure Naples identified as the palace, with its arching, cavelike maw. As they approached, she saw Naples’ shoulders draw together, tensing, and couldn’t help but react to his nervousness, her heart speeding.

  It took less than four minutes to walk into the high, vaulted entryway of the High Palace of the Abyss, which sparkled inside like a strange geode; to pass through that first room and into an even larger hall, with doors in the walls and strange arches and pedestals of varying heights set into the floor seemingly randomly; and finally to follow Alizarin through another, smaller doorway at the far end of the room.

  Four minutes, but perhaps the longest four minutes of her life.

  There were creatures in the room. Abyssi, certainly, but most of them were more similar to the lizardlike lord of the high court who had first challenged them than like Alizarin. Some had several pairs of arms and legs, thick like lizards or slender and sharp like insects or spiders. They lounged on the structures about the room, occasionally seeming to sleep, but mostly looking directly at the visitors passing through.