The Core

  Jardir grit his teeth. “I did. And it is my greatest shame. Had the Par’chin not proven stronger than I believed, all Ala would have suffered.”

  Asome tilted his head. “How?”

  “The Par’chin and I have forged a peace. Together we have captured Alagai Ka, and will take him back to the abyss as a hostage.”

  If the words surprised Asome, he gave no sign. “To what end?”

  “To gain passage through the maze of the abyss and Nie’s endless legions, until we stand before Alagai’ting Ka.”

  Asome blinked. “Can even you accomplish such a thing?”

  “The alagai hora say I am the Deliverer,” Jardir said, “or the Par’chin is. If any can do this, it is us, united.”

  “You may not return,” Asome noted.

  “You think to keep the throne you stole,” Jardir said.

  Asome met his eyes. “We have established no crime, Father.”

  Jardir nodded. “You gave honorable deaths to the Damaji and Andrah. Your brother died of his own foolishness.”

  Faster than even Asome could counter, he seized his son by the throat. With his free hand he plucked the crown from Asome’s brow, throwing it across the room. Asukaji gave a hoarse cry as Asome struggled helplessly against his father’s iron grip.

  “But there is one crime we have not accounted for,” Jardir growled. “One crime I cannot forgive.”

  He pulled Asome so close their noses touched. “You tried to kill your mother.” Jardir lifted his son from the floor by the throat, slamming him against a marble pillar. “That is crime enough to damn any man to the abyss. But Inevera is Damajah, Jiwah Ka of Everam himself.” He tightened his grip, Asome’s face purpling as he struggled for breath. “For that, it would be a mercy to strip you of the white and cast you from the window to your death. It would be a mercy to chain you naked in the bazaar for khaffit to piss upon and use your body as fuel to roast a spitted pig.”

  Asome’s hands slapped ineffectually against Jardir’s arm, his last throes. Jardir had meant this as an act, but in that moment he found his rage was true, and was tempted to kill his treacherous son before he could further shame the Skull Throne and its people.

  With a roar, Jardir threw his son onto the pillows beside the prone Asukaji. “But you are needed, if you have it in you to find honor once more.”

  Once again, Asome was left choking and heaving, struggling for breath, but this time he did not have the crown to Draw upon, and he was slower to recover. Jardir waited patiently, though the night grew long.

  “You were not ready for the throne, my son,” Jardir said when Asome’s eyes became lucid. “Your treachery proves it. But for better or worse, Sharak Ka is upon you. The alagai gather. Soon Alagai’ting Ka will lay, and the surface come alive with swarm. Even now, Nie’s princelings seek to form hives across the land, and will muster their legions to defend them. Krasia needs a leader.”

  Asome stumbled in his attempt to leave the pillows, falling clumsily to the floor. He struggled, forcing breath through his crushed throat as he knelt, putting his forehead to the floor. “I live to obey, Father.”

  Jardir peered into his son’s aura. The truth of those words was unreadable, but he could see already the images forming of Asome out in the night, hunting alagai princes. The boy was hungry for the glory. Hungry for redemption. Hungry to prove, at last, that he was his father’s son.

  Jardir drew a ward in the air, calling Asome’s spear to his hand. He set it over his shoulder in the harness for his own spear, then called the crown to him, tying it to his belt sash.

  “Tomorrow, before the entire court, you will ascend the seven steps and fall to your knees before the Damajah’s pillows. You will beg her forgiveness for your crimes and pledge to serve her as you would me, in letter and spirit, until your death. Do this with truth in your heart, and she will return the spear and crown to you. Fail, and Heaven will ever be denied you.”

  Asome’s aura swirled at that, doubt returning. Jardir demanded he shame himself before the entire court. “She is holding my son, and your mother.”

  “Kaji is with his mother. Your Jiwah Ka.” Jardir turned to stare at crippled Asukaji, whose aura colored with shame. “The elder sister you tried to murder.”

  He looked back at Asome. “Your claim to the child is denied. Your plan to force an heir upon your cousin was without honor, and I should never have allowed it. Only Ashia can return your rights, and for that you will need her forgiveness, a boon not easily won.”

  Asome’s aura darkened, and Jardir knew he might be demanding too much. But the boy touched his forehead to the floor again. “As you say, Deliverer.”

  “My Holy Mother will regain her freedom,” Jardir said. “I have already seen to it. Neither you nor Inevera may detain her again. Manvah will be similarly released, and presented to your mother at court when you beg her forgiveness.”

  “Of course, Father,” Asome said.

  Jardir turned again to Asukaji. “And you, nephew? You who bid to murder your own blood, your father and sister, leaving my eldest sister a widow. Would you continue to lie there, bitter and wretched, as your soul shrivels like Nie’s black heart?”

  Asukaji embraced the turmoil in his aura. “No, Deliverer,” he whispered. “I am ready to walk the lonely path and face Everam’s judgment.”

  Jardir peered into his nephew’s spirit, rifling through the boy’s hopes and dreams like the robes of his wardrobe. His desire for glory, for greatness, was no less than his lover’s. Asome and Asukaji had played equal part in the treachery on the Night of Hora.

  But Asukaji had been humbled that night. The image of his defeat at his sister’s hands was burned into his spirit, a scar that might never heal. Months spent crippled had driven him to the brink of despair. If there had been a way to take his own life, he would have done it long ago.

  But deep within, there was a spark of light. He spoke truth regarding his readiness to face Everam’s judgment, understanding at last how he had failed. Born to privilege, he and Asome had taken their right to rule as a given, but still they meant to stand against Nie.

  Jardir crouched beside the pillows where the boy lay. “It will not be so simple, nephew. Do you swear to renounce Nie, in this life and the next?”

  “I swear it, Deliverer,” Asukaji said.

  “Do you swear to serve the Damajah?” Jardir asked. “To beg her forgiveness as Asome must?”

  A tiny candle flame of hope lit in Asukaji’s spirit. “I swear it, Deliverer.”

  “Will you serve your people, rather than expect they serve you?” Jardir demanded. “From the dama to the lowliest chin?”

  It was a question too big for the boy’s mind to comprehend, but he did not hesitate. “I swear it, Deliverer.”

  Jardir laid a hand on Asukaji’s forehead, sending his own spirit into the boy, seeking that convergence where his lines of energy had been shattered. He found it, a knot of scars and broken connections, a chasm between mind and body.

  With a push, Jardir shattered that wall, rejoining that which was severed. Asukaji cried out, first in pain, and then in ecstasy. He began to laugh, weeping as he flailed his weakened limbs.

  Jardir let go and stepped back. Asome rushed to his lover and embraced him, tears mingling on their cheeks. Jardir nodded, wrapping himself in his cloak and activating the wards of unsight. Before they had eyes for anything but each other, he had already stepped into the night and flown back to Inevera’s wing of the palace.

  —

  Jardir stepped through the window to Inevera’s chambers, breathing deeply of the perfumed air. He savored the scent, committing it to memory. The Evejah told of the abyss stinking of sulfur, death, and despair.

  He went to her perfume table, lifting the delicate vials and inhaling their scents until he found the one he had come to most associate with his Jiwah Ka. He pocketed the vial. In the endless night of Nie’s depths, it would be a defense as strong as any ward.

  He found Inevera
deep in meditation, staring at the dice scattered before her, aura flat and even. He could tell she was aware of his presence, but he made no sound, waiting patiently until she sat back on her heels, thin silks pulling tight.

  Even after their night’s passion, the sight stirred him. He had been too long without her for any one night to sate.

  Inevera looked back at him and smiled. “Soon, my love. I will have you again before you leave me.”

  Jardir felt his pulse quicken. “You no longer believe you must come?”

  Inevera glanced back at the dice sadly. “As you feared, your chances of victory below increase slightly if I come, but even if victorious, we would return to find our people destroyed. Nie waxes strong, my love. All Ala will tremble at Her wrath.”

  “What else have you learned?” Jardir asked.

  “Alagai Ka is ancient,” Inevera said. “The Prince of Lies spoke true when he claimed to have lived in the time of Kaji.”

  “He is the father of demons,” Jardir said. “Perhaps he always was, since Nie’s foul taint first seeped into Ala.”

  Inevera shook her head. “He was little more than a hatchling in Kaji’s time, by the measuring of his kind. There have been many fathers of demons, since the coming of Nie.”

  “The Par’chin believes there are more,” Jardir said. “That even if we should prove victorious, Nie’s taint will live on. Across the sea, perhaps. Over the mountains. Beyond the Northern snows.”

  “Everam and Nie struggle eternally,” Inevera said. “And as above, so below.”

  Jardir nodded. “Nothing is as precious, or fleeting, as peace. So Alagai Ka became Consort to the Mother of Demons after the time of Kaji. What else can you say of him?”

  “With such a long life, only the barest glimpses can be seen,” Inevera said. “But he is afraid. Perhaps for the first time in his existence.”

  “Afraid for himself?” Jardir asked. “Or for Alagai’ting Ka?”

  “Himself,” Inevera said. “He cares nothing for the Mother of Demons, apart from the station and power that comes from being her Consort. He fears death at your hands, or the machinations of rivals in his absence.”

  “Can we trust him to guide us to Nie’s abyss?” Jardir asked.

  “Trust?” Inevera laughed. “You must doubt every word from Alagai Ka, every motive. There is treachery there. Of this there is no doubt. But he will take you to the abyss, if for his own purposes and not yours.”

  “A trap,” Jardir said.

  “Perhaps,” Inevera said. “Or a trick. Alagai Ka lies with truths, and does not tell all. You must be ready for anything.”

  Jardir pursed his lips. It was good advice, but as vague as it was obvious.

  “I wish I could tell you more, beloved,” Inevera said. “But the divergences before you are many. You walk a shallow line in the sand amid a storm.”

  “You have spoken of pillars in the sand,” Jardir pressed. “Constants amid the future’s chaos.”

  “You will find a piece of Kaji,” Inevera said. “A gift from your ancestor to guide you in the dark.”

  Jardir leaned in eagerly. “What piece? Where?”

  “I cannot say,” Inevera said. “It is not for you to seek. It is fate for you to find. Perhaps the Deliverer, in his wisdom, saw the possibility of his own failure, and left some sign for his successor?”

  “Three thousand years ago?” Jardir asked.

  “Time means nothing to Everam,” Inevera said. “He exists beyond such things, and speaks to His prophets.”

  “And the Par’chin?” Jardir asked.

  “He must make a choice,” Inevera said. “Between his jiwah and his duty. Everything is balanced upon it.”

  “She carries a child,” Jardir said.

  Inevera nodded. “A boy of limitless potential, and a future of despair. He will be born in darkness, and will carry it inside him.”

  “So he will live,” Jardir said. It meant Renna would survive long enough to deliver him, and that, at least, was something.

  “Perhaps,” Inevera said. “If Renna vah Harl am’Bales am’Brook accompanies you into the darkness below, there are futures where her son lives, and others where he dies. Some where he is born in captivity, mother and child food for Alagai Ka’s table. Others where he is born an orphan, cut from her cooling body.”

  Jardir clenched his fist. The Par’chin’s jiwah was brash and disrespectful, but she carried greater honor than any woman he had ever known short of Inevera herself.

  “And if she remains behind?” he asked.

  “You will fail,” Inevera said flatly, “and all Ala be consumed.”

  “Then we must hold faith in her,” Jardir said. “I have looked into the daughter of Harl’s spirit. She will not falter.”

  “We must pray not,” Inevera agreed.

  “The Par’chin, too, will hold the course,” Jardir said. “Even if the price be his wife, his child, he will strike a spear into the heart of Nie Herself.”

  “Do not trust in that,” Inevera said. “Whatever your feelings for him, whatever you have seen when you peer into his spirit, he is a man, and men are fallible, especially when their mates are concerned.”

  Asome’s face flashed in Jardir’s mind’s eye, purpling as his father strangled him for daring to strike at his jiwah. “There is wisdom in your words, beloved. I will be there to keep the Par’chin on his path. Is there more?”

  “Nothing else yet,” Inevera said. “I will cast again when I have some time to meditate upon what the dice have already shown.”

  “With the amplified power of the earrings, you should be able to speak to me until we reach the mouth of Ala and travel into the dark below,” Jardir said. “The magic will interfere with the resonance once we are beneath the surface.”

  “In the meantime, there are other matters to discuss,” Inevera said.

  Jardir produced Asome’s spear and crown. “Asome and Asukaji will kneel before you on the morrow, to beg forgiveness and ask you to restore their power. All will know they are yours, if they should convince you.”

  Inevera blew a breath, making her veil dance like smoke. “My mother?”

  “She will be released to you at the same time.” Jardir gave her a hard look, brooking no debate. “As will my mother. Neither of you will detain her again.”

  “Of course, beloved. I spoke the truth when I said it was for her own protection. I would never have harmed her.” Inevera’s bow seemed sincere, but there was dissembling in her aura.

  “I thought we were past lies, beloved,” Jardir said.

  Inevera met his eyes. “I put Sharak Ka above all else, husband. I detained Kajivah so I would not be forced to harm her should Asome attempt to supplant me.”

  Jardir’s teeth clenched, but he embraced the feeling. He could not fault his wife for that. He loved his mother, but she was in no way qualified for the burden of the seventh step.

  He switched topics to break the tension. “Where is Abban?”

  “Alive, the dice tell me,” Inevera said. “I believe Hasik killed Jayan to get to him, and stole the khaffit away. Ashia hunts for them even now.”

  Jardir scowled. “I was a fool to leave Hasik alive. Every time I have shown him mercy, I have regretted it.”

  “Mercy should never be cause for regret,” Inevera said. “It may be that Hasik yet has a part to play in Sharak Ka.”

  “Perhaps,” Jardir conceded. “My time grows short. What else is there to attend?”

  In reply, Inevera touched one of her bracelets, and there was a sound of a latch turning behind them. The door opened to admit Amanvah and Sikvah.

  Jardir looked back at Inevera in irritation. “I said to tell no one.” Despite the words, he could not deny his pleasure at seeing his eldest daughter clad in a black headscarf, and his niece in a white. Gentle Sikvah looked fierce in her armored robes, armed with spear and shield, and the sight filled him with pride.

  “Amanvah and Sikvah have vital news,” Inevera said. “You wi
ll want it directly from their lips.”

  “Father.” Amanvah knelt before him, putting her hands on the floor. “My heart sings to see you returned alive. I had judged the Par’chin a man of honor. I am glad to see that faith was not misplaced.”

  Jardir opened his arms. “Rise, beloved daughter, and embrace me.”

  Amanvah flew to his arms faster than might be considered proper, but Jardir only laughed, crushing her to him. When was the last time he held her thus? Before she was sent to the Dama’ting Palace, a decade and more ago. He and Inevera spent so much time grooming their children to lead, they neglected to show them a parent’s love.

  It was too late for many of his children now, but for one moment he allowed himself to set aside the mantle of Shar’Dama Ka and be a father. “I am proud of you, daughter. Never doubt this.”

  “I will not, Father,” Amanvah said, drawing back as reluctantly as he. Her eyes were wet.

  Jardir did not pull away completely, keeping an arm around her as he reached out to Sikvah. “And you, niece. I mourn your loss. The son of Jessum carried boundless honor. Ala is darker without him, but no doubt Heaven shines brighter than ever.”

  The fierce façade fell away, and she was gentle Sikvah again, joining her sister-wife in his embrace, the two of them weeping openly. In his crownsight, Jardir could see the ambient magic drawn to their emotion, imprinting upon the tears. They ran like streaks of light down their cheeks, beautiful beyond words.

  Inevera produced a tear bottle, collecting the precious drops. When it was full she stoppered it and held it out. The vial glowed with power, much like the hora jewelry she wore.

  “A keepsake to carry next to my perfume as you journey to the abyss.” Her smile was wry. “A reminder of love, in that place of endless despair.”

  Jardir took the bottle reverently, bowing as he slipped it into his pocket.

  “Is it true that Shanvah will travel into the dark below with you, Uncle?” Sikvah asked.

  “It is, niece,” Jardir said. “Your spear sister carries untold glory. A demon prince fell to her spear, and for a time she stood alone against Nie’s hordes while the Par’chin and I fought to subdue Alagai Ka.”