Ricardo Pinto - The Chosen

'It is Aurum who is its architect. Once the election is over I intend to retire to my coomb to live in quiet retreat with my son. I am not your enemy.'

'Perhaps that is so, Sardian.'

Carnelian watched the three masks looking at each other.

Ykoriana's was the first to turn away. 'But I will not abandon my beloved. Several days have yet to pass before the House of the Masks and the Great meet in the Chamber of the Three Lands, and only then will this be decided. Until that time, my son and I are content enough to leave our fates entirely in the hands of the Chosen.'

'I will take this answer back to Nephron. Be certain, Celestial, I shall do what can be done in urging him to free you, notwithstanding your response.'

'Until the election, then. But lest your faction should become too proud, My-Lord-who-goes-before, remember that even the sun is bound by earth and sky.'

Suth's mask looked at her a while. 'I shall remember.'

Ykoriana terminated the audience with her hand.

Suth bowed his sunburst head. Syblings appeared to relieve him of his staves and he turned away. Carnelian walked beside him all the way back to the Iron Door where the Hanuses awaited them. The syblings bowed but when their head came up their eyes, living and stone, lingered gluttonously on Carnelian's face. It was only with the closing of the door that Carnelian was free of them.

In the gloom of the Sun in Splendour the Ichorians lowered his father's dull fire to the ground. Carnelian stared at him. The journey back down the Approach had been even harder than the climb. Somehow his father had avoided falling. Somehow he had managed each one of the myriad steps. But when they reached the waiting Ichorians and the dais, his father stopped and would move no more till Carnelian had begun to think that he had died and only the stiff robe kept him upright still. At last, he had had to have him carried onto the dais. There, the knees of his ranga had bent, though Carnelian had no way of knowing whether it was his father who had knelt or simply that his ranga had collapsed. All the way back, blinded by the throng, deafened by the storming shawms, Carnelian had had to follow fearing that at any moment his father would topple to the ground.

Now they were alone in the Sun in Splendour, Carnelian found the courage to step up onto the dais. Each step he took made his father tremble. He stopped when he was standing very close. With his father kneeling, and him on his ranga, they were of a height.

'Father?' he said.

It seemed quite natural that the huge, golden puppet should make no response. Carnelian became desperate to look inside to know if the suit had become his father's sarcophagus. He reached out to run his fingers down the edges of his father's sun-eyed mask. Finding the bands, he followed these back over ears that seemed to be made of leather. His fingers traced the bands into narrow channels that burrowed round into the sculptural mass of his crowns. His fingers came together at a knot. They struggled to undo it, then carefully removed the mask. He stifled a cry as he exposed the closed eyes. The face had the texture of weeping wax. He moaned as he stroked it. He thought the sighing was his own till he saw a quiver in the pale lips.

'Father, O Father?'

'So… tired,' said the lips.

Carnelian kissed him. 'We'll soon get you to bed.'

He carefully replaced the mask and walked away with many glances back. He raged through the tunnel into the chamber of doors, scattering Ichorians. He demanded that they go and find their commander and then went to his father's apartments and dug out House Suth attendants. He had them in tow when he met the grand-cohort commander. He had the man send for a Sapient from the Domain of Immortality and made him remove all his Ichorians between the Sun in Splendour and his father's chambers. When the commander hesitated, Carnelian said, 'He is dying,' in such chill tones that the man immediately did his bidding.

With some of his people, Carnelian returned to the Sun in Splendour where, towering over them, he directed them as they freed his father. He watched as they disassembled his sunburst crown and opened the shell of his robe. He shouted at them to be careful as they lifted the sagging body down from the huge ranga. He had them shield it as they carried it in its under-robes to his father's chamber.

As he waited, Carnelian removed his father's mask. He watched every breath from on high, fearing to look away even for a moment lest doing so might let the chest stop its rise and fall. When the Sapients came with ammonites they drove him out of the chamber. He stood outside its door and did not leave until a homunculus came to tell him that his father would recover.

He took the last few heavy steps into his chamber, and even as he heard the door behind him close he bent his knees and groaned as his robe setded its weight onto the floor. 'Master.'

The voice came from somewhere behind him. For a moment he thought it might be an assassin sent by Ykoriana, and he was glad. 'Come round in front of me,' he said wearily.

A small figure moved into his vision and fell on its knees. There was too little light to see it clearly.

'Look at me.'

A small dark face gazed up.

Tain!' sobbed Carnelian. Tain, Tain, Tain.' He opened his knees, lifted the burden of his robe and lumbered forward. He slowed, fearing he might topple onto his brother like a tree. He fumbled with his mask; it cut into his jaw as he wrenched it off and flung it away. Tain, stand up, let me hug you.'

Tain rose unsteadily. He took one step forward and then another. When he was close enough, Carnelian reached down. He had to stretch just to touch Tain's head. Tain looked up at him as if from a deep hole.

To escape the pain of silence, Carnelian told Tain it was time to sleep. Saying nothing, his brother found the darkest edge of floor and huddled down. Carnelian was unhappy with this but said nothing. He laid himself out on his bed and waited, listening to the rasp of Tain's breathing. When its rhythm had slowed he rose and crept over to him. He crouched and peeled his brother carefully from the cold stone. Tain twitched a little but did not wake. Carnelian stood up and winced, for his brother weighed nothing at all. It was like holding a plucked, air-dried bird. He carried the skin and bones over to his bed and arranged them on it carefully. As he put a blanket over Tain, he had the feeling he was covering a corpse.

He chose to lie upon the floor, telling himself it was because he did not want to lie beside his brother and risk disturbing him. The floor was cold and hard and would not let him sleep. He lay awake remembering the promise he had made to Ebeny that he would look after her sons.

Carnelian woke and lit a lamp. In its light the face in the bed was as gaunt as an old man's. He watched a bead of sweat run down the cheek then slip into the spiral of the ear. Tain had the sky sickness. Carnelian realized that the signs had been there the night before, although he had seen only the sallow ingrained fear.

He did not call for servants but dressed himself so as not to wake Tain. He closed the door quietly behind him as he left. He instructed his guardsmen to make no noise and to let no-one enter. He refused an escort and left them.