The Broken Kingdoms
Page 61
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“That instead of following the usual process of initiation, you will spend today with Lady Serymn and tomorrow with the Nypri. They’ll decide how best to proceed from there.” He patted my hand again, reminding me of his ungentle pats from the night before. Yes, this, too, was a warning. If I did not somehow please the Lights’ leaders, what would happen? Without even knowing why they wanted me, I could not guess. I ground my teeth, angry—but in truth, I was more afraid than angry. These people were powerful and mad, and that was never a good combination.
Hado walked me out of my room and began guiding me through the corridors, moving at an unhurried pace. I counted my steps for as long as I could, but there were too many twists and turns in the House of the Risen Sun; I kept losing count. The corridors here were all slightly curved, perhaps some function of building a house partially wrapped around a tree trunk. And because the House’s builders had been unable to extend the structure far from the trunk—I was no architect, but even I could see the folly in that—the House had been built narrow and high, with multiple levels and stair-connected sections, giving the whole place an oddly disjointed feel. Hardly a monument to the Bright Lord’s love of order.
Then again, perhaps this, too, was a disguise, like the New Lights’ carefully cultivated appearance of harmlessness. The Order of Itempas saw them as just another heretic cult. Would they feel the same if they knew this heretic cult had power enough to challenge the gods?
Hado said nothing while we walked, and neither did I in my preoccupation. I gauged his silence, trying to decide how much I dared ask. Finally I braved it. “Do you know what those… holes… are?”
“Holes?”
“The magic that was used to bring me here.” I shivered. “The Empty.”
“Ah, that. I don’t know, not exactly, but the Nypri was ranked Scrivener Honor Class within the Order of Itempas. That’s their highest designation.” He shrugged, jostling my hand on his arm. “I’m told he was even a candidate to become First Scrivener to the Arameri, though, of course, that ended when he defected from the Order.”
I let out a laugh in spite of myself. “So he married an Arameri fullblood and started his own religion to remind himself of what he almost had?”
Hado chuckled, too. “Not exactly, but I understand that mutual dissatisfaction is a factor in their collaboration. I imagine it isn’t a far step from mutual goals to mutual respect, and from there to love.”
Interesting—or it would have been, if the happy couple hadn’t kidnapped, tortured, and imprisoned me and my friends. “That’s lovely,” I said as blandly as I could, “but I know something about scriveners, and I’ve never seen a scrivener do anything like that. Overpower one godling, much less several? I didn’t think that was even possible.”
“Gods aren’t invincible, Lady Oree. And your friends—well, nearly all of the ones who live here in the city—are the younger, weaker godlings.” He shrugged, oblivious to my surprise; he had just told me something I’d never realized. “The Nypri simply found a way to exploit these facts.”
I fell silent again, mulling over what he’d told me. Eventually we passed through a doorway into a smaller enclosed space, this one thickly carpeted. There were more food smells here, breakfast items—and a familiar hiras-scented perfume.
“Thank you for coming,” said Serymn, coming over to us. Hado let go of my hand, and Serymn took it in a sisterly fashion, stepping close to kiss me on the cheek. I managed not to pull back at that, though it was a near thing. Serymn noticed, of course.
“Forgive me, Lady. I suppose street folk don’t greet each other that way.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said, unable to keep a scowl off my face. “I’m not ‘street folk,’ whatever those are.”
“And here I’ve offended you.” She sighed. “My apologies. I have little experience with commoners. Thank you, Brightbrother Hado.” Hado left, and Serymn guided me over to a large plush chair.
“Prepare a plate,” she ordered, and someone off to the side of the room began doing so. Sitting down across from me, Serymn examined me in silence for a moment. She was like Shiny in that; I could feel her gaze, like the brush of moth wings.
“Did you rest well last night?”
“Yes,” I said. “I appreciate your hospitality, up to a point.”
“That point being your fate and the fates of your godling friends, yes. Understandable.” Serymn paused as the servant came over, placing a plate in my hands. No formal service this time. I relaxed.
Hado walked me out of my room and began guiding me through the corridors, moving at an unhurried pace. I counted my steps for as long as I could, but there were too many twists and turns in the House of the Risen Sun; I kept losing count. The corridors here were all slightly curved, perhaps some function of building a house partially wrapped around a tree trunk. And because the House’s builders had been unable to extend the structure far from the trunk—I was no architect, but even I could see the folly in that—the House had been built narrow and high, with multiple levels and stair-connected sections, giving the whole place an oddly disjointed feel. Hardly a monument to the Bright Lord’s love of order.
Then again, perhaps this, too, was a disguise, like the New Lights’ carefully cultivated appearance of harmlessness. The Order of Itempas saw them as just another heretic cult. Would they feel the same if they knew this heretic cult had power enough to challenge the gods?
Hado said nothing while we walked, and neither did I in my preoccupation. I gauged his silence, trying to decide how much I dared ask. Finally I braved it. “Do you know what those… holes… are?”
“Holes?”
“The magic that was used to bring me here.” I shivered. “The Empty.”
“Ah, that. I don’t know, not exactly, but the Nypri was ranked Scrivener Honor Class within the Order of Itempas. That’s their highest designation.” He shrugged, jostling my hand on his arm. “I’m told he was even a candidate to become First Scrivener to the Arameri, though, of course, that ended when he defected from the Order.”
I let out a laugh in spite of myself. “So he married an Arameri fullblood and started his own religion to remind himself of what he almost had?”
Hado chuckled, too. “Not exactly, but I understand that mutual dissatisfaction is a factor in their collaboration. I imagine it isn’t a far step from mutual goals to mutual respect, and from there to love.”
Interesting—or it would have been, if the happy couple hadn’t kidnapped, tortured, and imprisoned me and my friends. “That’s lovely,” I said as blandly as I could, “but I know something about scriveners, and I’ve never seen a scrivener do anything like that. Overpower one godling, much less several? I didn’t think that was even possible.”
“Gods aren’t invincible, Lady Oree. And your friends—well, nearly all of the ones who live here in the city—are the younger, weaker godlings.” He shrugged, oblivious to my surprise; he had just told me something I’d never realized. “The Nypri simply found a way to exploit these facts.”
I fell silent again, mulling over what he’d told me. Eventually we passed through a doorway into a smaller enclosed space, this one thickly carpeted. There were more food smells here, breakfast items—and a familiar hiras-scented perfume.
“Thank you for coming,” said Serymn, coming over to us. Hado let go of my hand, and Serymn took it in a sisterly fashion, stepping close to kiss me on the cheek. I managed not to pull back at that, though it was a near thing. Serymn noticed, of course.
“Forgive me, Lady. I suppose street folk don’t greet each other that way.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said, unable to keep a scowl off my face. “I’m not ‘street folk,’ whatever those are.”
“And here I’ve offended you.” She sighed. “My apologies. I have little experience with commoners. Thank you, Brightbrother Hado.” Hado left, and Serymn guided me over to a large plush chair.
“Prepare a plate,” she ordered, and someone off to the side of the room began doing so. Sitting down across from me, Serymn examined me in silence for a moment. She was like Shiny in that; I could feel her gaze, like the brush of moth wings.
“Did you rest well last night?”
“Yes,” I said. “I appreciate your hospitality, up to a point.”
“That point being your fate and the fates of your godling friends, yes. Understandable.” Serymn paused as the servant came over, placing a plate in my hands. No formal service this time. I relaxed.
