5 Coloine

Terrael has almost worked out all the details about the kathana that separated the worlds, though he told Audryn he had to guess at about a tenth of the th’an, since Veris and Barklan weren’t mages and assumed there would be people around after the “success” to write it all down more fully. Or maybe some of those mages did keep records, and we just don’t know about them.

Even though Terrael is uncertain, Vorantor’s plan is to reconstruct the kathana, then invert it to describe the world as it used to be. I think of it as “reminding” the worlds how they’re supposed to be united, something I won’t tell Terrael in case he calls me a savage again. He ought to thank me for being so considerate of him, not forcing me to soak his head. It’s so undignified.

We’re having no success blending the two worlds’ magics, and I’m starting to wonder if Vorantor is more clever than we thought, setting Cederic to work on research that’s a dead end. Cederic behaves as if our work is important, and I know he’s determined not to waste his time again, so I have to believe he knows what he’s doing. He was collaborating with Vorantor again today, and then after dinner, and if he comes to bed before I fall asleep, I’ll ask him whether Vorantor is actually accepting his input. Because I think if Vorantor can get away with it, he won’t.

4 Coloine (continued)

“You should begin,” the God-Empress said, frowning, “or God will believe you have brought her here frivolously.”

Aselfos dropped my hand and took two steps away. “I will not,” he began, and one of the soldiers stepped up behind him and put one of those very sharp knives against his throat. He stopped speaking. The God-Empress screamed, “You will do as God says or your blood will water this floor!”

“Don’t worry, Renatha, um, Perce and I want to be married,” I said, reaching out to take Aselfos’s hand. In the instant before I clasped it, the beginnings of an idea struck me. Just as our fingertips brushed, I worked the walk-through-walls pouvra and let my hand slip through his.

It felt awful. I could feel the blood flowing through his hand, felt bone grate on bone even though we were both insubstantial, and Aselfos cried out and jerked his hand up, making the soldier with the knife take half a step back and a thin line of blood bead up along Aselfos’s neck. “Our vows are rejected!” I screamed. “God will not allow me to take his hand!”

The God-Empress stared at my hand, then grabbed it and pinched the skin between my thumb and forefinger, hard, making me cry out. “I have done no such thing,” she said. “Your love is meant to be. I would never reject your vows.”

“It must have been an accident,” I said. “We should try again. Renatha, please ask that man to release my love. There should be no violence on such a…a sacred day.”

The God-Empress nodded, the soldier moved back, and Aselfos raised his hand to wipe the blood away. He was breathing a little too heavily and looked as if he were even more afraid of me than of the God-Empress.

I held out my hand to him, and he reached out to take it, and I did the pouvra again. It was still awful, though at least this time I was ready for it. Aselfos looked as if he were going to be sick. “Renatha, why is this happening?” I exclaimed, making a big show of examining my hand. “It surely means we are not meant to be married!”

“But I have decreed it!” the God-Empress wailed. She pushed me aside, ran down the dais, and snatched a longsword from one of the soldiers, who made as if to stop her before coming to his senses. The God-Empress raised the sword and swung hard at the dais; it made a strange sound somewhere between a clang and a thunk. “I am God and I will not be thwarted!” she screamed.

I felt lightheaded, like I was spinning, or maybe that was the room turning around me, as if the God-Empress’s madness were infectious and I had caught the disease. “But it is marriage that would thwart your will, Renatha!” I shouted. “Our desire to be married is wrong!”

The God-Empress turned on me and dropped the sword, which landed with a clunk. “It is,” she agreed, her voice low and vicious now, her eyes narrowed. “Why would you waste my time like this, Sesskia?”

Now I was terrified. There were at least twenty soldiers, and I was certain I couldn’t keep all of them at bay with fire, and concealing myself and running was a very short-term solution. “I…made a mistake,” I said. “God is forgiving of mistakes.”

“God dislikes waste,” the God-Empress said, “but she is understanding of human frailty. And you are my sister, Sesskia.” She turned toward Aselfos. “But he…he is nothing to me. Destroy him.”

Aselfos had recovered from the shock of feeling my incorporeal hand pass through his, but now he went ashen. “I can’t,” I began, and the God-Empress said, “You will do as God commands, Sesskia, or I will be forced to watch these men kill you. God must be obeyed.”

Aselfos’s eyes met mine. He was pleading with me. I closed my eyes, willed him to hold still, and said, “God’s command, then,” and wreathed Aselfos in fire. He screamed, and I put the fire out before he could truly panic and flee.

“Renatha!” I shouted. “How dare you use your sister that way!”

The God-Empress took a step back. “What?” she said.

I drew myself to my full height and glared at her. “You dare command me to do something God has forbidden? This man is protected by God. Is this some sort of test?”

I had her thoroughly confused now. The God-Empress looked at Aselfos, who stood in the same place, shuddering, then at me. “But I—” she began.

I cut her off. “I only have power because God gives it to me,” I said. “My magic has no power to harm that which God has protected. God must not be mocked. You are trying to trick me into betraying God.”

“No,” the God-Empress said, sounding once again like a child, but afraid rather than cheerful.

“I understand now,” I said. “It was a test, wasn’t it? A test of my loyalty? Did I pass?”

Confusion cleared from the God-Empress’s face. “Oh, Sesskia, it was a test!” she said, and embraced me. “You are truly God’s choice.” She released me, went to Aselfos, and embraced him as well. “And you have been marked by God’s power,” she said, fingering the charred neck of his formal tunic. “I am sorry about the marriage. I know Sesskia is your heart’s desire.”

“My God, I will turn my heart elsewhere,” Aselfos said, his voice barely trembling, his eyes fixed on me. When the God-Empress turned away, he nodded to me, slowly, as if acknowledging a debt.

“Oh, Sesskia, I do love you more than my other sisters. They never visit me,” the God-Empress said, hooking her arm through mine once more. “We will eat together, and then you will return to Denril Vorantor and tell him that God smiles on his work. I’m sure he’ll find ways to make use of you.”

“I think you’re right, Renatha,” I said, but my heart continued to beat like a rabbit’s until we were seated in one of the formal dining rooms at opposite ends of the table, too far apart to converse, and I could concentrate on chewing and swallowing tasteless food. It probably was very good, but I was too keyed up to appreciate it.

I matched her madness for madness, and now I wonder if I’ve finally exhausted my stores of luck. The only good thing that’s come of this morning is that I saved Aselfos’s life, and he knows it. But I have no idea how that might benefit me. Maybe if Aselfos really is planning to kill all the mages, he’ll spare my life. Or maybe he’ll think twice before attacking the mages, if he thinks my magic is representative of what they can do. I don’t know. I’m still jittery.

The God-Empress was back to being her usual cold, distant self by the time the meal was over, and dismissed me without any friendliness. She also didn’t suggest that I return to change into my own clothes. When I said, “I think you should have someone put this away for me,” attempting to remove the diamond necklace, she said, with some anger, “Mother always liked you better,” and walked away.

I don’t know what to make of that. Either she’s going to forget I have it, or she’s going to send soldiers to retrieve it from me some day when I’ve forgotten I have it. So I walked back to the mages’ wing, holding my head high and pretending no one was staring at me. That was hard, because everyone was staring.

I got as far as my own room before I realized it was impossible for me to get out of the dress without help. Everyone had already finished their lunch, so I had to go into the circle chamber dressed like the God-Empress’s life-sized doll and submit to the exclamations of the women and the teasing of the men. Cederic went totally impassive when he saw me, and Vorantor said something about the God-Empress’s favor; I think he was jealous of me, because I’m sure the God-Empress has never given him a fortune in diamonds.

Sovrin came back to my room with me to help me change. “I was watching Sai Aleynten,” she said with a grin, “and he had a look in his eye that nearly made me melt, and you know he’s not my type.”

“I couldn’t look at him and keep my composure,” I said, and at that point I realized I’d left some of my favorite clothes back in the God-Empress’s dressing room. I shook my hair out and put the silver combs on the dressing table next to the necklace. They’re beautiful, and I wish I had some reason to wear them more often. Then I remember who gave them to me, and I wish I dared throw them away.

“So why are you dressed up?” Sovrin asked.

“I…we can talk about it later, so I don’t have to repeat the story for Audryn,” I said. That was only partly my reason; I was starting to feel panicky about how close I’d come to being married to the wrong man.

“Oh, if you have to be sensible,” Sovrin said, pretending to pout, and we went back to the circle chamber, where we both went back to work as if nothing had happened. Cederic treated me as he always did, with respectful indifference, and we made no more progress than before, partly because I simply could not stay focused. When I wasn’t remembering the God-Empress’s mad, confused expression when I challenged her, I was seeing Aselfos’s eyes when the fire surrounded him. Th’an couldn’t keep my attention.

Sovrin and Audryn came with me to my room right after dinner to hear my story. I felt guilty about telling them before telling Cederic, but I didn’t even make eye contact with him at dinner before he and Vorantor went back to their research, and by that time I really needed to talk. We sat on the red bearskin rug, Sovrin wearing the necklace, Audryn with her hair pinned up with the combs, and they were perfectly silent as I told the story. When I was finished, Audryn said, “You are brilliant.”

“I think I’m lucky,” I said.

“That too,” Sovrin said. “Saying marriage vows to one man when you’re already married to another…even if neither of you mean it….”

“I was afraid of that,” I said. “But I couldn’t exactly tell the God-Empress that.”

“At least you got something nice out of it,” Sovrin said, running her fingers across the rows of diamonds. “And the dress is beautiful. You looked stunning.”

“I doubt I’ll get to wear it again,” I said.

Audryn and Sovrin exchanged meaningful glances. “I think Sai Aleynten will figure something out,” Sovrin said with a wink.

That’s probably true. I almost asked them to help me put it back on, so I’d be wearing it when Cederic comes to bed, but as I wrote, I don’t know how late that will be, so it will have to wait for another time.

It’s nearly midnight now. Still no Cederic. I’m going to sleep now, and hope the God-Empress doesn’t decide she needs her “sister’s” company again anytime soon.

4 Coloine (continued)

No one came to dress me, so I dithered for a bit over what might offend the God-Empress least, then realized I can’t begin to guess what her twisted mind might find offensive, and put on my nicest clothing that wasn’t a dress. It turned out I didn’t need to run away from her, but I still think it was a good precaution.

When I stepped out of my room, four soldiers in chicken helmets were once again standing there, waiting for me, and I stepped into their protective square and marched away. This time, no one had cleared the corridors, and people had to jump out of our way because the soldiers moved as if they had a walk-through-walls pouvra and didn’t care who they used it on.

Most of the people we passed gaped at us, making me wonder if they knew who I was, or if they were just curious about anyone who rated such a guard. Or (this has only just occurred to me) they thought I was a prisoner being marched off for execution. I was too busy being nervous to pay much attention to them.

We went to the alcove leading to the public areas of the palace, and I thought we might be going to the throne room again, but the soldiers took me through a series of arched hallways, wide and tall enough to admit the loenerel but paved in a checkerboard pattern of black marble and green travertine, and into a breezy, light chamber whose windows all stood open.

Gauzy pale blue drapes billowed as warm air flowed into the room, fighting with the cooling kathana for dominance. Seven identical cedar wardrobes—I like the smell of cedar, but this was like being hit in the face by a warm, pillowy brick of the stuff—lined the blue walls. I don’t have to describe the rest; the God-Empress likes monochromatic decorating schemes.

The God-Empress herself stood at one of the windows, letting the air blow her filmy white dress (more of a long, loose shift) around her. Her golden hair was loose and hung to her knees, and I had the beginnings of a pang of jealousy at how smooth it was that was suppressed by a memory of Cederic winding his fingers through my hair and telling me how much he loved its color and thickness.

And then, to my shock, I actually felt sorry for the God-Empress, who has no one to love her. It didn’t last long, thanks to what happened next, but it’s true, she’s more to be pitied than envied. And more to be feared than either of those things.

The soldiers left me at the door, and I walked forward, not sure whether I should draw attention to myself or in what way I’d do so. But the sound of my footsteps on the smooth, caramel-colored wood floor alerted her, and she turned, shrieked in delight, and flung herself at me. I very nearly went over beneath her weight. “Sesskia!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t this the most beautiful, perfect day? I’m so happy to see you! And I know you must be so excited, but everything in its time, yes?”

She clapped three times, and a file of servant women emerged from a hidden door near the windows. “Clothing for my dear sister,” the God-Empress commanded, and women flung open the wardrobes to reveal gowns in every shade of the rainbow and a few never found in nature, all of them made from silks or brocades or velvets, some richly embroidered, others studded with gems, every gown fit for a queen.

I stood, unable to speak, as women began bringing gowns to the God-Empress for her approval. The God-Empress said, “You must tell me which ones you like! Isn’t this fun, dressing up, when there are all these beautiful gowns? And then you can help me choose mine!” She began holding dresses up to my body, flinging some away, handing others back to the servants with a “Sesskia will want to try this on” or “Oh, this is divine, I simply must see if it fits me!”

Despite her words, I didn’t ever have time to express an opinion, not that it mattered to me which of these many gowns I ended up wearing. They were all exquisite, but completely impractical, and I spent my time while the God-Empress debated which was more my color, lilac or lavender (Note: they are EXACTLY THE SAME COLOR) wondering what she had in mind. Were we going to tour the city again, this time dressed like royalty? Or was all this simply for the sake of some elaborate tea party? Of course, the truth was far worse, but at the time I was innocently curious and wary.

The gown the God-Empress eventually chose for me was beautiful and, surprisingly, suited me well. It was silk, fitted through the bodice and waist to leave my shoulders bare, flowing softly to my ankles. It was pale blue at the top and became increasingly dark until it was midnight blue at the hem, as if the color had all bled from the top of my gown and pooled at the bottom.

I was admiring myself in the full-length mirror and thinking that I should find a way to wear this back to the mages’ wing, where Cederic could see me, when the God-Empress reached around my neck and said, “I know Mother would want you to wear these,” and I nearly fell over because she had clasped several fortunes’ worth of diamonds, not one of them smaller than ten carats, around my neck as carelessly as if they were a child’s shell necklace.

For about five seconds I really wanted to keep those diamonds. Then common sense asserted itself and reminded me that there was a good chance the God-Empress would look at me ten minutes from now, accuse me of stealing her mother’s diamonds, and take them off by way of removing my head.

I was also trying not to think about what it meant that she clearly believed we were sisters today. The God-Empress has no family, having had all her siblings executed when she came to the throne, so my being her “sister” was no guarantee of safety.

The servants found me a pair of silver shoes with an impractically high heel that the God-Empress rhapsodized over and that I could therefore not refuse, then I stood in the corner (“Don’t muss yourself!” the God-Empress had shrieked when I tried to sit down) and watched her choose a gown. “You must be the most beautiful today, of course, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be lovely, too!” the God-Empress exclaimed, and proceeded to choose a sleeveless gown of dazzling white, crusted with pearls in sizes ranging from as small as pinheads to more than an inch in diameter, that made her look more beautiful than ever.

Then the servants arranged our hair, brushing mine until it shone and then winding it around my head and pinning it fiercely in place with silver combs sparkling with more diamonds. I stood in front of the mirror again, admiring myself, and the God-Empress came to stand beside me, took my hand, and squeezed it. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered. “Thank you for allowing me to join you for this perfect day.”

to be continued…

3 Coloine, after dinner

Audryn, with Sovrin in tow (I’m not sure how she managed to extricate her from the other mages), had many words for me when she returned, starting with, “When were you going to tell me about this?”

“Or me?” Sovrin said. “And how long has this been going on? Sesskia, if you’re carrying on a secret affair with Sai Aleynten, we deserve to know!”

“We’re married,” I blurted out. That left them both speechless. I took advantage of the silence to explain when that had happened, and some of the details surrounding the event—not many, this wasn’t the kind of conversation where you talk about your sex life—and they stared at me a little while longer, while I felt an intense desire to sink through the floor.

Then they both squealed and hugged me, and said things like “it’s so wonderful!” and (Audryn) “both of us married on the same night!” and then they wanted more details, so I explained why it had to remain a secret, which they both completely understood and swore never to reveal the truth.

So then I ended up telling them about the secret pouvrin, which meant I had to demonstrate, and Audryn said, “I wish I could do that. Terrael is old-fashioned and doesn’t want us to move in together until we’ve said our public vows, and he feels like that means we have to sneak around to be together. But he looks so incredibly guilty every time he comes to my room, no one could have any doubt what he’s doing. He’d be thrilled with those pouvrin.”

“I’m still shocked,” Sovrin said. “No offense, Sesskia, but it’s hard to imagine Sai Aleynten unbending enough to have any kind of romantic relationship, never mind being married.”

“Oh,” I said, “he unbends,” and then it was the kind of conversation where you talk about your sex life, and both of them were shocked that I’d been a virgin, but not in a bad way, and now I feel guilty about sharing that sort of thing with two women who don’t need to look at their leader and imagine him having sex. But I couldn’t help myself, it was so good not to have to keep it a secret. And when we finally went back to the circle chamber, neither of them gave any hint that they knew anything about Cederic and me that they shouldn’t. I should have given Audryn more credit.

Now it’s after dinner, and I can go to Cederic soon, and we’ll talk about what might happen tomorrow, and what I might need to do. And I’m finally going to ask him what it will look like when the two worlds come together, if only to give myself something to think about other than the God-Empress.

I feel as if we’re all fumbling around, probably because we are. Vorantor is desperately trying to cling to his authority, a task made more difficult by the fact that Cederic is still acting humble and deferring to him in ways that make it sound like Vorantor is even more incompetent than he is, without giving Vorantor any excuse to challenge him. Even Vorantor’s mages go to Cederic now for advice. I’m afraid that Vorantor’s pride is going to drive him past the point of reason, but Cederic seems not to worry, and he knows the man far better than I do, so I’m not going to worry about it either.

2 Coloine

We didn’t do anything but sleep. In fact, Cederic was asleep when I came to his room, still fully dressed and lying on his back, mouth slightly open, snoring. I managed to wake him enough that I could help him take his clothes off, but I don’t think he was conscious. He’d had a very full thirty-seven hours.

I made sure the door was locked, undressed and hid my clothes in his wardrobe—if someone came in on us unexpectedly, I could conceal myself quickly, but women’s clothing on Cederic’s floor would be bound to draw attention—turned out the light, and snuggled up next to him. It’s nice, sleeping with someone you love, and I lay awake enjoying the feeling for a while before falling asleep myself.

He woke me in the morning, not on purpose, but by making a sudden movement that jostled me awake. I think he was surprised to find me there. “Sesskia,” he said, “this is far too dangerous. If you’re seen—”

I worked the concealment pouvra, then went insubstantial and sat up, dramatically sweeping my hand through the pillow, not that he could see it. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘isn’t it fortunate you can be virtually invisible and walk through walls so we can spend every night together and not get caught’?”

He rolled onto his back, threw one arm over his eyes, and laughed. “Of course. I should have remembered that. I wasn’t thinking very clearly yesterday, was I?”

“You were not, but I think you had a good excuse, what with everything that happened,” I said, lying down next to him so he could put his arms around me, “but you should feel ashamed of yourself, taking advantage of an ignorant otherworlder who had to find out she was married from someone else.”

He groaned and held me tighter. “I truly was not thinking clearly,” he said. “I assume you decided to forgive me, since you are here now.”

“I decided you were worth being married to,” I said, and then he kissed me, and we forgot about talking for a while. That left us with no time for anything else before we had to be at the breakfast table, not that I’m complaining, but it means that I still don’t know what will happen when our worlds come together.

It’s hard during the day, him treating me with the same polite, self-controlled attitude he’s always demonstrated toward me, me doing my best to respond in the same vein. I’m so eager, as I’m writing this, for the rest of the Sais to return to their rooms for bed so I can go to him, and not because of the sex, which is admittedly wonderful; when we’re together, I can forget that we have a deadline and very little idea of how to bring two worlds together safely. Vorantor discovered today that there will still be destruction, even if we’re successful, and while I was moderately amused that no one took him seriously until Cederic confirmed his conclusions, it fills me with dread.

Still no idea how I might manifest th’an the way I do pouvrin, though I don’t know why I thought we’d figure that out quickly. I’m impatient, and worried that even if I do learn how, it won’t have any effect on the final kathana. I refuse to fall into despair, though. That will do no one any good.

Time for me to join Cederic. If I’m filled with dread, I can only imagine how he feels, bearing not only this burden but the need to keep Vorantor in check and the fear of what demands the God-Empress might make on us, though I share that last fear. She hasn’t called me into her presence since the disastrous tour of Colosse, and I know it has to come soon; I wish it would, so I could stop feeling as if a tidal wave were somewhere on the horizon, unstoppably approaching. I am so grateful to have the comfort of Cederic’s support, grateful too that I can do the same for him.