Chapter 34

  Zaidna

  The Empire of Judath

  The City of Marin

  “Don’t you dare take that off!” Zalas barked to Davim’s reflection in the mirror. “Touch it and I’ll cut off your fingers!”

  Davim whimpered, his eyes bleary. A diamond-shaped glob of henna paste was plastered to his forehead. “It burns!”

  “Shut up. The label said to leave it on for at least an hour.”

  Davim unleashed a spattering of obscenities at the mirror, balling up his fists at his sides.

  “Leave it.” Zalas glared at Davim’s reflection one more time before turning to lie on the sagging mattress. Through the thin window, he could hear the prostitutes peddling their wares on the street below. What a disgusting hovel of an inn, he thought. They still carried plenty of money, but this was the only inn available that didn’t require identification papers to book a room. Still, he expected more than one broken bed and a weak oil lamp for their coin.

  “Argh!” Davim yelled, “I can’t take it anymore!” Before Zalas could intervene, Davim reached up with a damp rag and scrubbed his forehead furiously, scraping the henna paste off.

  Zalas jumped up to see the oozing, diamond-shaped blister that now glared from Davim’s forehead like a newly-erupted eyeball. “That doesn’t look good.”

  “I told you that it burned!” Davim hissed through gritted teeth.

  Zalas moved in for a closer inspection of the purple blister. “It’s in the right shape and color,” he commented. “Perhaps it needs time to heal.”

  “This was a terrible idea!” Davim winced as he prodded gingerly at his inflamed skin. “Why couldn’t we have tested this on one of our arms first?”

  “We don’t have time for that,” Zalas replied, smirking a bit.

  “I can’t be seen like this! What are we supposed to do now?”

  Davim did have a point. The whole reason for using the alchemized henna in the first place was to help them infiltrate the palace complex as nobles. No guard would mistake Davim’s blister for a tattoo, at least not in its current state. They could still hope to find three witnesses straggling outside of the temple or the palace, but judging from the Orb’s latest indications, it wasn’t likely.

  “How can those engstaxi freaks get away with selling this acid?” Davim fumed, grabbing the half-empty jar of henna from the low table and hurling it out the window. It sailed clear over the eaves of the inn and hit the street below with a sharp crunch.

  “It doesn’t matter; we need to be worrying about how to obtain those witnesses.” If they had only arrived in Marin a day earlier, before the Nassé committed mass murder, they would have had their pick of witnesses and could have been in and out of the city in an afternoon. Now, with only a half dozen witnesses left, he couldn’t risk one being accidentally killed or traumatized if he and Davim broke into the palace by force. Damn it all!

  “Aren’t there any witnesses that are easy to catch?” Davim began to squeeze his blister with both hands.

  “Just that one survivor at the temple, but I don’t know where to find her. For all I know she could be sitting in a warden’s holding cell this very moment,” Zalas groused. “Hey, stop picking at it!”

  “What else do you expect me to do with it?” Davim demanded. Just then a flash of red shot through the corner of the room, and both Zalas and Davim dove for cover. A swirling ring of fire blinked into being partway through the mattress, causing it to collapse into a pile of ash as the ring rapidly expanded. Anoth emerged from the licking flames and stepped lightly onto what remained of the bed, leisurely patting the fire from his clothes with both hands.

  “Where have you been?” Davim cried from the safety of his corner.

  Anoth waved away his conveyance pattern and put a finger to his lips. The person occupying the room next door was hammering on the wall, yelling for quiet. When the neighbor finally fell silent, Anoth lowered his hand and said slowly, “I would expect Davim to forget his manners, but not you, Zalas. Where is my greeting?”

  “You don’t deserve a greeting after leaving us in the jungle like you did. Answer Davim’s question.”

  “Here. There. Wherever I choose to be.” Anoth shrugged and looked around the slightly singed room. “Interesting. I was expecting something a little less homey. I smell the whores but can see only Davim.”

  Zalas stood up and glared.

  “Pardon my aim,” Anoth chuckled, looking down at the embers where the bed once stood. He walked over to Davim’s still crouching form and flicked a finger at the blister on his forehead. “What is this?”

  Davim grimaced. “We wanted to get into the palace without anyone noticing.”

  Anoth’s sneer widened. “I see. So you thought you would parade right into the palace complex dressed as nobles. But that mark—that was your old bed slave’s familial crest, wasn’t it? It’s just as well that it failed. That crest belongs to a dalanai line, and an extinct one at that. You might have gotten away with it if there were only eshtans here, but any dalanai noble would have seen through it immediately.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Davim shot Zalas a lethal glare.

  Anoth turned to Zalas as well. “Where is the Orb?”

  Zalas reflexively reached down to touch the pouch hanging from his belt. “Here.”

  “And your quest? Have you acquired the witnesses?”

  Zalas shook his head. Anoth already knew the answer to his own question, but was clearly trying to bait him. “We’ve only been here a day. We found plenty of them at the temple, but almost all of them are dead now. Did you have anything to do with that?”

  “What are you talking about?” Anoth looked taken aback. “Who is dead?”

  “All of the witnesses at the temple. The Orb showed over thirty witnesses, but they all went dark at the same time. The Nassé killed them all.”

  “The Nassé? But she’s merely the—that’s impossible! What of the others? What witnesses are left?”

  “There was one girl who survived the slaughter, and there are some others who are at the palace. That’s all we know.”

  “Then not all is lost.” Anoth sighed in relief.

  “So are you still chasing after your dalanai?” Zalas asked. “She’s at the palace now, you know.”

  Instead of reacting with rage, Anoth was silent, turning away and pacing around the small room.

  Zalas continued. “The priests at the temple are saying that Naltena ordered the deaths of those witnesses—those candidates—through a dream. How is that possible?”

  Anoth stopped by the window, a growl building in his throat. “This has nothing to do with that dead bitch. I know what’s behind this. It’s another oath-breaking!”

  “You’ve talked about that before, these oath-breakings. Who is breaking oaths? What are the oaths they’re breaking?”

  Anoth’s eyes flicked over to the Orb’s pouch.

  Noticing this, Zalas backed away. “Tell us what’s happening here first. What caused the deaths of those witnesses and why? What enemy is trying to stop us?”

  “It’s no concern of yours.”

  “Of course it is if they’re killing the witnesses we need!” Zalas shouted, flinging his arms wide.

  Anoth shrugged nonchalantly. “If you knew anything about your religion and your gods, you would know not to ask.”

  Zalas spat on the dirty floor. “My gods? I’ve had my fill of gods! The only god I care to know any more about is trapped in a rock, and you not only lie to him but keep him trapped by refusing to tell us about—”

  “Enough!” Anoth snapped. He paused for a moment, seeming to chew on his words before responding. “There are many—beings—like me, but with greater power and authority.”

  Zalas smirked, unimpressed. “I know that much already from Master Verahi.”

  “Verahi is a fugitive like me. The enemy we are dealing with is the administrator of this world.”

  “The administrator?” Zalas asked.

  “A very powerful god who governs the affairs of this world. Administrators are bound by oath to not interfere with mortals, but there are certain ambiguities in our laws that allow them to break their oaths under certain circumstances. Most of the time, they are limited to sending dreams. Other times, they can be more direct without fear of punishment. That is all you need to know. It won’t happen again.”

  Zalas recalled the night that Sorai escaped and Davim’s insistence that he had been led away to a bar by some woman. “I knew it. It’s that silver bitch, isn’t it?”

  Anoth’s eyes narrowed. “Leave it. You have your answer.”

  “You know her, don’t you? What is her relationship to you?”

  “I told you to leave it alone.”

  Zalas looked up at the ceiling instead. “I know you can hear us, you silver bitch!” he shouted. “You attack us at night while we’re helpless, but are you so much of a coward that you won’t come and face us while we can fight back?”

  “Stop that immediately!” Anoth commanded.

  Zalas ignored him. “If the great lord Anoth won’t tell us who you are, come and introduce yourself! Go ahead. Come put an end to us right now, you stupid, scheming whore!”

  “Stop!” Anoth screamed, flinging blades of stone from his fingers.

  Zalas ducked just in time, the mirror behind him shattering. When he looked back he was surprised to see genuine terror twitching on Anoth’s face. “You want me to stop?” Zalas stood slowly. “You’d better kill me then, because I won’t rest until I know everything about her.”

  Fire burst in Anoth’s palms, and for an instant Zalas thought he’d finally pushed him too far with his goading. But Anoth suddenly quelled the flames, his countenance beginning to calm. “She is the maker and administrator of this world,” he said, looking away. “She is my mother.”

  “What?” Zalas gasped. “Your mother? How is that possible?”

  Anoth snorted. “Did you think my sister and I simply popped into being out of nothing?”

  Zalas had no words with which reply. If Anoth had a sister, then of course it stood to reason that he’d have a mother. But that there were beings more powerful than even Verahi that could subjugate an entire world from afar; he couldn’t begin to fathom it. “Just how many of you gods are there? What chance do we have against such beings?”

  “My people are innumerable. But the only one we have to worry about in this world is my mother. And she is only so brazen because she can justify it against my actions. The killing of all those witnesses was permitted in retaliation for a—momentary lapse of judgment back in Chalei. I will not allow that to happen again.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Enough with your questions!” Anoth snarled. “Get the witnesses!”

  Zalas was unconvinced. “We can’t sneak into the palace unnoticed. What do you propose we do?”

  “I have a contact who can help you.” Anoth stalked over to the table and snatched a grubby writing tablet from amongst the broken glass. He traced his finger across the paper, thin coils of smoke trailing behind it. He tore the sheet from the tablet and slapped it against Zalas’s chest. “Go see him at the temple. He’ll know the Nassé’s reasons for killing the witnesses as well.”

  Zalas caught the paper as it fell from his chest. “You’re not coming with us?”

  “I have some loose ends to tie up.” Anoth stepped away from Zalas and spread his arms in a wide circle, parallel to his body. His conveyance pattern flashed red, and the ring of fire reappeared.

  “You can’t just leave again,” Zalas protested.

  “I’ll find you later.” Anoth stepped through the ring and was swallowed up by the pattern.

  Zalas looked at the name and directions written on the paper, and then down at Davim, who was still huddling silently in the corner. “Of all the spies he could have put in the temple, why did it have to be Batem?”