The Core

‘How’s it supposed to work?’ Arlen said. ‘We gonna take a Herb Gatherer with us?’

Renna bared her teeth. ‘You even say her name …’

‘Why not?’ Arlen asked. ‘She’s carryin’, too. You can set up a nursery in the Core.’

‘Don’t need a Gatherer,’ Renna said. ‘Got two Deliverers with me.’

‘Ent funny, Ren.’

‘Said yourself the babe’s little more’n a notion right now,’ Renna said. ‘Ent gonna slow me for months. By then either we’ll have won, or it won’t matter.’

‘What if you get morning sick?’

‘Can’t be worse’n chokin’ down demon meat,’ Renna said. ‘I’ll manage. You need me.’

‘I …’ Arlen began.

‘Don’t deny it,’ Renna cut in. ‘Jardir means well, but he’s got a different way of lookin’ at the world. Threw you in a demon pit once. Don’t think he won’t do it again if he thinks it’s the Creator’s will.’

Arlen blew out a breath. ‘Don’t think I forgot that.’

‘Shanjat’s an empty shell,’ Renna said. ‘He may still be breathin’, but he ent coming back, and I wouldn’t trust it if he did.’

‘Honest word,’ Arlen said.

‘Shanvah’s as good as any can get in a fight, but she can’t dissipate, and she ent as strong as the rest of us,’ Renna went on. ‘You want any chance of making this work, you need me. World needs me. Gotta put that first, just like we asked her to with her da.’

Jardir watched Shanvah, marvelling at what his niece had become. It seemed just days ago he saw her newborn and squalling in his sister’s arms. In Krasian fashion, he had seen little of her in the ensuing years, and nothing since she went into the Dama’ting Palace as a child.

Now she was a woman grown, carrying a weight of honour that could break the strongest Sharum. Shanjat was not capable of shame, so she carried it for them both, locked inside an iron will.

‘Come and sit with me, niece.’ Jardir disdained the Northern chairs, sweeping his robe back to sit cross-legged on the bare floor. While he did, he concentrated, activating one of the powers of the Crown of Kaji. As Shanvah took a spot facing him on the floor, he put a bubble of silence around them, keeping their words from Shanjat’s ears.

Shanvah knelt before him, bending to put her hands on the floor. ‘Raise your eyes,’ Jardir commanded. ‘I am Shar’Dama Ka, but I am your uncle, as well. With your father … absent, I would speak to you as both, while we walk the path to the abyss.’

Shanvah sat back on her heels. ‘You honour me beyond my worth, Deliverer.’

Jardir shook his head. ‘No, child. This is but a fraction of the honour you are due for service given, and nothing in the face of what I must ask of you.’

‘I understand, Uncle,’ Shanvah said. ‘Alagai Ka cannot guide us to Nie’s abyss without my father’s voice.’

Jardir nodded. ‘Nor can we allow the demon free movement. He must be chained.’

Shanvah closed her eyes, breathing. ‘Alagai Ka said he would make a mount of my father.’

‘Indeed, I think it must be so. Imagine the damage Alagai Ka could do if it took over my mind, or that of one of the chin? We cannot risk touching it in anything but battle.’

‘Nor can you allow it to control my father without constant guard,’ Shanvah said.

‘We will separate them whenever possible,’ Jardir said, ‘but must assume that every time the Prince of Lies touches your father’s mind, it will learn all Shanjat has seen and heard. We can no longer speak freely in his presence. Nor can you let your guard down around him. There is no telling how much of Alagai Ka’s influence remains when they are apart.’

Shanvah placed her hands on the floor and bent to touch her forehead between them. Then she sat up and met his eyes again. ‘I understand my place in things, Uncle. I will not fail you.’

In her aura he saw it was true. She would carry this burden atop a broken heart all the way to the Core. He opened his arms, and after a moment Shanvah moved awkwardly into his embrace until he pulled her tight. ‘Of that, I have no doubt.’

The Par’chin noted Jardir’s sphere of silence as he and his jiwah returned to the group. He nodded, moving to sit between Jardir and Shanvah on the floor. Renna took up a place opposite him, all of them facing one another.

‘Gonna do this, it needs to be soon,’ the Par’chin said.

‘Agreed,’ Jardir said. ‘But not too soon.’

‘Ay, what’s that mean?’ the Par’chin asked.

‘It means I will see my Jiwah Ka before I go to the abyss,’ Jardir said. ‘I will hold her in my arms again, and have her cast her dice in my blood.’

‘Ent got time—’ the Par’chin began.

‘This is not a request, son of Jeph!’ Jardir made a lash of his words. ‘We must claim every advantage in this endeavour, and the dice can do much to counter the Prince of Lies.’

‘And if the dice conveniently tell her she ought to come along?’ the Par’chin asked.

‘Then she will come,’ Jardir said. ‘As your Jiwah Ka does. She will not dissemble with all Ala in the balance. Everything Inevera does, she does for Sharak Ka.’

He could see in the Par’chin’s aura that the man wanted to argue further, but he checked himself. ‘Fair enough. Ren and I should make a few stops, too. Let folk know what’s coming, we don’t find a miracle.’

7 (#ulink_154448c7-09fd-564e-9a97-8d14c12a7267)

The Eunuchs (#ulink_154448c7-09fd-564e-9a97-8d14c12a7267)

334 AR

A stab of pain between his legs woke Abban from one of the rare lapses of consciousness that passed for sleep in his new reality. He sat up from the cold ground with a start, his foot joining the agony as he squinted in the firelight.

Hasik took his cock first. Abban had steeled himself, knowing it was coming, but nothing could truly prepare a man for that. He did it with his teeth, and made Abban watch.

Abban begged Everam to let him bleed out, or take a fever and die, but warriors of Hasik’s experience knew their way around wounds. He’d tied it off first, and burned the end.

Dampness between his thighs made Abban think the wound had reopened. His chains clinked as he scrambled to undo the drawstring of his ragged pants and check.

Abban might have prayed for death while it was going on, but now, cock or no cock, he meant very much to live. He pulled back the cloth. There was no fresh blood on the bandages, but they were stained yellow and soaking.

It was nothing new. Abban now pissed through a hollow needle punched into the charred flesh. He had no control, bladder draining steadily throughout the day. He was always wet between the legs now, and stank of piss.

Hasik laughed from the other side of the fire. ‘You’ll get used to it, khaffit. So used to wet pants they will grow as comfortable as dry. So used to the smell of your own piss you will sniff the air and smell nothing even as everyone around you complains of your stink.’

‘That’s hopeful, at least,’ Abban said, retying his pants. It wasn’t as if he had anything to change the dressing with. For now he would have to endure the wet.

‘Enjoy it while you can, khaffit.’ Hasik waved at the lightening sky. ‘The sun will rise soon. How many has it been?’