S. Farrell - A Magic of Twilight

Her head was down as if praying. He thought for a moment that nothing would happen, then he saw her glance up, slowly, though her eyes were bright and suspicious and her fingers reflexively curled as if she wanted to make a warding. It was enough; he released the spell, let it evaporate as if it had never been there. Her reaction had been slug-gish; he’d hoped for a more immediate and stronger response, but it was possible she had been lost in her prayers for the Kraljica and her grief, distracted by the noise and the crowds.

But she had felt him. She was able to sense the very movements of the X’in Ka, not simply manipulate it. He knew that much; it was more than the Numetodo ci’Vliomani could do. She was still glancing around, as if searching for the source of the energy she had felt. He pushed back into the shadows of the Registry so she wouldn’t see him.

Perhaps it could be her. Perhaps. If circumstance didn’t interfere. If the gods smiled. If he was interpreting the images in the augury-bowl correctly. If he wasn’t simply wrong. .

There were too many ifs. .

But perhaps. .

The Archigos’ carriage and O’Teni cu’Seranta had passed him now, moving on toward the Pontica Kralji and the final ceremony. The sculptured heads flanking the Nortegate swiveled as the Kraljica passed, their fiery gazes tracking the carriage that held her body. The coffin still floated in its golden cloud-the teni creating the illusion replaced as the effort of the spell became too exhausting. The four there now were not the four Mahri had seen when the procession passed the Pontica a’Breze Nippoli, and already he could sense the weakness in the X’in Ka-they were flagging and would soon be relieved themselves.

The teni were so weak.

The heads stared at the Kraljica and also caught Mahri in their fiery scowl, as if they were chastising him for his arrogance. He turned his back to them, striding away from the Avi and ignoring the comments of the crowd as he pushed through them. A block south of the Avi, the crowds had vanished and the sound of chanting and music faded, replaced by the familiar clamor of Oldtown.

If he reached the Pontica Kralji before the Kraljica’s procession, he could cross over to the Isle and watch the passing of the Kraljica into history.

He wondered how quickly the new Kraljiki might follow her.

Ana cu’Seranta

The tower stank of mold and urine and fear, and the torches set in their sconces accentuated the darkness rather than banishing it. The long climb left the muscles in her leg aching, but she wasn’t going to give the commandant the satisfaction of her pain.

Ana’s heart sank when Karl turned at the sound of footsteps outside his cell and she saw his chained hands and the awful device clamped around his head. The commandant nodded to the garda outside the door, who took the keys from his belt and opened the cell door. “You may go eat your supper, E’Garda,” ca’Rudka said, inclining his head toward the spiral stone staircase. The man saluted and hurried away. The commandant stepped aside and gestured to Ana to enter; he followed behind her.

“Envoy ci’Vliomani, I’ve brought someone to see you. I assume I have your word as before not to use the Ilmodo?”

A nod. The commandant moved behind Karl and took the silencer from his head. Karl grimaced and drew his sleeve over his saliva-slick mouth. “You shouldn’t have come,” he said to Ana, and she thought or a moment that he was truly angry. “But I’m glad you did,” he added.

“I could see the flames of the Kraljica’s pyre from here.” He nodded toward the open shutters of the balcony, where flickering yellow still touched the stones. “You were there?”

Ana nodded. “I watched the A’Kralj take the scepter and ring from her hands. The Archigos lit the pyre with the Ilmodo. The heat was almost too much to bear. I’ve never felt a fire so intense. .” She stopped, realizing that she was talking only to keep away the silence. She heard the clatter of metal against metal and saw the commandant holding a set of heavy cuffs, the thick rings of metal opened.

“I would leave the two of you alone to talk,” he said, “but I’d be failing in my duty if I did so without making certain you can’t use the Ilmodo, O’Teni cu’Seranta.”

“I will give you my word, Commandant,” Ana told him. She was looking more at the manacles than at him.

“And I would take it, except that if you were to break your word and help the Envoy to escape, then I would be the one sitting in this cell. As I’ve already told the Envoy, I know the Bastida all too well, and I have made enemies in my career who would no doubt take great delight in my pain. That’s not a chance I’m willing to take. So. .” He smiled, jingling the manacles. “I will accept your word, O’Teni, but I will also have your hands bound while you’re here so that I know your word will be kept. I’ll give you my word that I’ll return in a turn of the glass to release you. That is, if my word is something you’re willing to accept. . ”

He raised his eyebrows, proffering the manacles. Reluctantly, Ana extended her hands to him. The steel was lined with leather, with dark stains that Ana tried to ignore. The shackles pinched her skin as the commandant pressed the halves around her wrists and locked them together. The harsh click of the lock sent panic rushing through her: he could keep her here; he could take her to one of the cells in the Bastida and do whatever he wished to her-torture her, rape her, kill her.

He must have sensed her growing panic. He stepped back. “My word is law here, O’Teni, and I don’t make promises that I won’t keep,” he told her. “One turn of the glass, and I will take these away from you.”

Ana nodded. The commandant glanced from her to Karl. “And I trust your word as well, Envoy,” he said. With that, he left the cell, locking the door behind him. They heard his footsteps on the stairs.

“Ana,” Karl said, bringing her gaze away from the locked and barred door. “I had nothing to do with the Kraljica’s death. Nothing. I swear to you.”

“I believe you,” she told him. “Only Cenzi knows why, but I do.”

“How are you? Does the Archigos know you were with me when I was arrested?”

“The commandant told him, I’m certain. He seems mostly, I don’t know, disappointed. Dejected. But he has more important issues.”

“And you? Have you been able to find the Scath Cumhacht, the Ilmodo, as you did before?”

She could only shake her head, not trusting her voice. “I’m sorry,”

he told her. She felt his bound hands touch hers. Their fingers linked. “I wish I could show you,” he said quietly. “I wish I could teach you.”

“I wish that, too,” she told him. His head bent toward her. His lips brushed her hair, her forehead. She remembered her vatarh doing the same to her: at night, in the darkness. With her vatarh, she had trembled and turned her face away. With him, she had endured the embrace and the touch. With him, she had felt nothing but ice and fear.

It was not what she felt now. She lifted up her face to meet Karl’s.

She felt the trembling of her lips against his as they touched. She closed her eyes, feeling only the kiss. Only the kiss.

She drew away from him. “Ana?” he asked.

“Don’t say anything,” she told him. Her hands still held his. She leaned her head against his shoulder. She felt him start to move to put his arms around her, but there was only the clanking of chains and a muttered curse. “It’s all fallen apart,” she said. “Everything I thought I had. Everything I might have wanted.”

“I’m so sorry, Ana.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I. . I lost my faith.”