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.

26 Lennitay, continued

The room was growing very warm, and I had trouble not rubbing away the sweat prickles under my armpits. Because I was focused on my mark, I didn’t see the next part, but I’d watched the Darssan mages practice, so I knew they were drawing th’an in a loose pattern surrounding the circle and the body-scribing mages.

With the magic made ready by the first th’an, and given duration by the body-scribers, the Darssan mages now defined the reality they wanted with a series of complex th’an. On the west side of the circle was a definition of our reality, and on the east side was the same definition with some key differences, namely, the existence of the Codex Tiurindi. I waited, and counted, my heart beating in time with the rhythm and not accelerating at all.

Then Cederic was in front of me, a pot of silver ink in his hand and a brush in the other, painting a th’an on my forehead, and the second he removed the brush I summoned the fire and scribed my th’an in lines of gold as thick as my wrist, halfway between myself and the red mark, which put it exactly over the circle.

White light sprang up from both sides of the circle, blazing brighter than the mages’ blue bodies, and I squinted hard, blinking away tears, and watched the fiery th’an shrink in on itself and then hover, distorted and frozen, over the center of the circle. I was aware of Cederic and Vorantor directly ahead of me, Cederic drawing th’an on the air and Vorantor scribbling on the floor, and then the white light filled my vision, and I closed my eyes and threw up my arms to cover them.

Nothing happened. The drumming stopped and the room was completely silent. I heard someone walking toward me and opened my eyes, blinking away afterimages, and saw Vorantor bend to pick up a small book, no larger than one of my hands. It was bound in gray leather and was locked shut. Vorantor pried at it, with no success, and Cederic gently took it out of his hands and gave it to me. “Sesskia,” he said, and I used the mind-moving pouvra to unlock it. That set my head to pounding, so I handed the book back to Cederic and massaged my temples.

Cederic opened it, then handed it to Vorantor with a bow. I’m pretty sure he only did this because he knew Vorantor wouldn’t be able to read it, and he could afford to look gracious. Vorantor turned a few pages and tried to appear wise and contemplative, but I thought he only looked like a fool.

“It is the book,” the God-Empress said, and everyone moved aside while trying not to look like they were fleeing. She walked right up to Vorantor and took the book from him, and the air hummed with the sound of fifty-one people, myself included, trying not to shout at the divine madwoman who had no experience in handling ancient books. Though it didn’t look ancient, something the God-Empress pointed out immediately. “This can’t be the right one,” she said.

“No, God-Empress, the book comes from a time when it was new, so it has not experienced the passing of time,” Terrael said, surprising everyone except Cederic. Then he shocked everyone by taking the book away from her and turning to the first pages. “I can’t read it yet, God-Empress, and I apologize for asking for more of your patience” (I had no idea Terrael could be so diplomatic!) “but I can verify whether this is the book we wanted, if you’ll allow me a moment.”

He skimmed the first few pages, turned to the back and examined the binding, then turned to a page about two-thirds of the way through and looked at it closely. “The first pages contain the name Veris, the binding has been repaired where an extra signature was inserted—a signature is a bundle of pages, God-Empress—and this is the page where Veris gave the book to her successor, Barklan; the handwriting changes. This is the Codex Tiurindi.

Now it didn’t matter that the God-Empress was standing among us; everyone cheered, or gasped, or cried, or did something to express their excitement and relief, which meant that Cederic turned away with his head bowed, and I hugged Audryn and we both tried not to dance. Terrael was already trying to read the book, but Vorantor took it gently from him and said, “All in good time, Master Peressten! God-Empress, thank you for allowing us the joy of your presence on this day. I assure you—”

“Don’t bore me with your assurances, Denril Vorantor,” the God-Empress said, all traces of her earlier lack of focus gone. “You told me the book would keep my empire safe from this disaster. Show me.”

That shut everyone’s celebrating down. Vorantor’s mouth sagged open. “We—God-Empress, we need to translate it, it’s not so simple—”

“Show me something, Denril Vorantor, or I will make your life very simple indeed,” the God-Empress said.

to be continued…

26 Lennitay

That was the most astonishing experience, on so many levels.

And yes, it worked.

We woke extra early, long before sunrise, and ate a quick but filling breakfast—Vorantor wasn’t sure how long the kathana would take, and we all needed to stay alert and undistracted by physical demands, so there was a lot of use of the chamber pots as well. Some of the groundwork was done yesterday, so the floor inside the gold ring was dotted with th’an, a type that are inactive until some other th’an wakes them up.

Vorantor walked around, chatting with people in his “I’m a great leader” way, while Cederic sat to one side with his hands resting on his knees, apparently meditating. I tried to do a little meditating myself, but I was too excited to manage it. So I watched the others. Four of Vorantor’s mages, all of them men, were stripping out of their robes to only their trousers for the body-scribing aspect of the kathana.

This is what I know, as per Terrael’s explanation:

A kathana, in essence, brings th’an together in a particular order at particular times to achieve a result larger than anything single th’an or small groups of th’an can produce. Most of them require multiple mages to complete, if only because people only have so many hands. And the mages have to practice together for hours to get the timing exactly right. That’s what everyone else has been doing while I struggled to master my single th’an: practicing scribing th’an in the right order at the right time.

And this is a hugely complex kathana, a summoning kathana, that describes a reality in which something that was not, is. We’re trying to create a reality in which the Codex Tiurindi wasn’t destroyed so many hundreds of years ago, but exists here and now. My part is to unite those two realities for long enough that the kathana can make the Codex part of this one.

Personally, I think the fact that they can do this is evidence that Cederic is right, because what else are we dealing with but two worlds, two realities, that are coming together? And if it weren’t natural for realities to spring apart, we wouldn’t need my part of the kathana to keep them together. But Terrael shook his head when I brought this up and said realities and worlds aren’t the same thing, and then I think he became technical just to annoy me.

So I’ll explain all of that as it happened, which was directly after the God-Empress and her chicken-headed minions arrived, one of them, a fat, gray-haired woman, wearing a red tunic instead of black and carrying her helmet under her arm. The God-Empress was dressed rather plainly, for her, in gold brocade over white silk and pearls the size of quail eggs dangling around her neck.

Cederic and Vorantor greeted her with regulation bows, Cederic’s much shallower than Vorantor’s, and they had a low-voiced discussion that ended with the God-Empress beckoning to me and, when I approached, saying, “You will sit with me, won’t you, Sesskia? I would like someone to observe with.”

I looked to both Cederic and Vorantor for advice, and got nothing, because Cederic looked impassive and Vorantor had his eyes closed in his “that’s a really bad idea” expression. “Thank you for the invitation, Renatha,” I said, “but I must stand here to perform my part, or the kathana might not work.”

The God-Empress gazed at me, her eyes slightly unfocused, and then she said, “Of course. My priests, I will sit where you direct me,” but it took a while for them to “direct” her to a spot she liked. I returned to my position, which was at the base of the circle (it’s marked with the four cardinal and four ordinal directions, so the base of the circle is south), and balanced lightly on the balls of my feet, trying to stay relaxed and not to think about what the God-Empress might do if we failed.

Eventually, though, she was settled, and her soldiers were disposed throughout the room in a manner that did not suggest in any way that they had orders to begin slaughtering mages if the God-Empress was displeased, and Vorantor waved to everyone else to take their places. He signaled to the mage serving as drummer, who began beating the count, and when everyone had picked up the rhythm, Vorantor nodded to the first group to begin.

The first part was the easiest and required the most people. Those mages scribed th’an to complete the “phrases” already written in and around the circle. Terrael explained to me that it “wakes up” the magic (that was my phrase, not Terrael’s, and when I said it he rolled his eyes and said, “you’re almost a savage, you know that?” and I had to soak his head. Really, I had no choice) and gives a base shape to the kathana.

Savage or no, that part I did understand, since something similar happens when I learn a new pouvra. I was in a perfect position to watch this, and it’s beautiful, like a dance, with people passing back and forth across the circle, bending and swaying. Then they step away, and the body-scribers take their places at the four ordinal directions, sit down just outside the circle, and begin writing th’an on their chests and faces.

It’s awe-inspiring, how perfectly synchronized they are. The body-scribing is to attune those mages to the kathana, and it’s extremely dangerous because in a way, they’re linking their hearts and lungs to the kathana so it will persist beyond the instantaneous effect of activating the final th’an, and it could kill them if we aren’t perfectly accurate.

They didn’t look afraid. It took only a few minutes for their bodies to be crisscrossed with inky markings. As they each drew a final mark from the bridge of their noses down over their lips and to the point of their chins, those markings began to glow with a blue so bright it was painful to look at. I kept my eyes focused on the spot painted in red on the wall beyond the circle. It was my guiding mark for when it was my turn in the kathana.

to be continued…

23 Lennitay

We need a rest day. We’re not getting one. Cederic lost that argument with Vorantor. Vorantor’s mages close to rebelling—I think everyone wishes Cederic were in charge. No note tonight.

24 Lennitay

Success! The binding th’an works! But there wasn’t time to either celebrate or experiment further to determine what size it should be, because it was a honey day and all of us, including me, were expected to put on golden robes and accompany the God-Empress to an amphitheater filled with citizens, then demonstrate kathanas for the crowds.

I now understand that the mages are also priests because magic is considered divine power, which the priest-mages perform in service to and with the permission of the God-Empress. I wanted to ask what would happen if the mages decided to rebel against her, set themselves up as the rulers of the empire, but that’s the sort of question that’s dangerous to ask.

The God-Empress stood on a platform that raised her fifteen feet above the amphitheater floor, waving her hand in the same complicated, flowing salute she’d used the day we toured Colosse. Even though Vorantor is “most high priest,” Cederic had to wear his red robe and officiate, which both he and Vorantor hated. It’s increasingly clear that Vorantor is deeply jealous of his “old friend” and regrets bringing him back to Colosse, not that he had any say in the matter. I don’t know if Vorantor always felt this way—he isn’t a bad mage, actually he’s very talented, he’s just not in Cederic’s class and I’m sure that bothers him. And I can’t really blame him for that.

Well, yes, I can, but that’s because I dislike him and his habit of doing things that are the opposite of what Cederic suggests, just to spite him. Cederic never acts as if he notices, just politely accepts whatever Vorantor decrees. I’d say I wish Cederic would spit in his eye sometime, but if he ever lost control to that degree, I’d be too shocked to appreciate the spectacle.

I’ve been practicing the fire th’an in my room before I go to sleep at night. It’s getting easier, but I’m trying not to relapse into that state of gut-wrenching anxiety that nearly destroyed everything. Ten more tries, and then it’s bed for me. I checked the observatory already—there was a note. I really wish I could read.

21 Lennitay

Still no progress.

22 Lennitay

I’ve found something I don’t understand—no, that’s not true, I understand it perfectly but I—this is stupid, I’m so tired from practicing the th’an that I’m not thinking straight. I came back to my room directly after dinner, because of the aforementioned tiredness, but I wasn’t sleepy; in fact, I was restless.

So after trying to fall asleep for about twenty minutes, I gave up. I didn’t want to get dressed again and go to the common room, so instead I walked down to the observatory and sat on the ledge and let my feet dangle, and looked out over the pile of dusty gems that is Colosse in the light of the setting sun. It’s a beautiful city, but then most cities are, from a distance.

I put my hands on the pillars so I could lean out farther, and my left hand brushed something soft that wasn’t leaves. It was about waist-high (my waist) on the pillar above where the staircase begins and was the same color as the pillars. I picked at it, and discovered that it was a roll of paper the length and diameter of my middle finger.

I unrolled it, and remembered I couldn’t read their language just as I had it open and could see lines of meaningless, tiny script. So now I know how Vorantor and Aselfos communicate; there’s really no other explanation for this. The note was hidden exactly where Vorantor always stands, exactly where someone standing on the hidden staircase could tuck it away without himself being seen.

It explains why I never see them together, why I never find Vorantor wandering the halls like I do. They must only meet face to face when one or the other has something that’s too long to be entrusted to a note.

But now I have a problem. If I take the note, that could reveal to Vorantor that someone knows he’s plotting something—for example, if he and Aselfos have a regular communication schedule. Vorantor might conclude that the note blew away or fell down the cliff, but that’s too big a gamble for me to steal a note that might not have anything of importance in it.

The bigger problem is that I don’t know who I’d take it to. Cederic is the only one who knows about my suspicions, but he might be angry enough about my snooping around to refuse to help me. I certainly can’t take it to any of the other Darssan mages without involving them in something that could be dangerous; I trust them, but none of them has the right outlook for this, which is to say, none of them are devious and paranoid enough.

So I had to leave the note where it was, though I did conceal myself and wait long enough to see Vorantor retrieve it. Confirmation of my theory, but I still don’t know what to do about it. I’m going to observe a few more nights, see if those notes come with any regularity, and see if a solution presents itself.

20 Lennitay

Small setback—not sure how thick to make the thread. Lots of experimentation until Terrael suggested practicing the th’an until that’s successful, then working out how large it has to be for the kathana. Terrael is definitely the brightest of us all and I’m pretty sure he’s angling to be a Kilios himself someday.

Gaining control over the fire pouvra. Dinner was unexpectedly nasty, but they had some of that cold creamy stuff for dessert and that made up for it.