The Bone Mask Trilogy: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set), page 104
And how could she rest with Father still out there?
The discussion around the table moved to timelines and provisions. Flir would take Pevin and Holindo, coordinating the acor while Sofia and Notch were to head into the mountains.
“Just the two of us to take on Marinus and Vinezi?” Notch asked.
“Three if you find Seto and his mask. More with Abrensi and Lavinia.”
“That’s a gamble, Flir.”
“It is. The alternative is that we all go but I don’t think we can afford that.”
Sofia took her seat once more. “We’re not ready.”
“What do you mean?”
“Give me a day. Give everyone a day to recover,” Sofia urged. “I will seek wisdom from Argeon. He will have ideas – his knowledge is that of generations, he predates the Great Landing. There has to be something else we can try, some advantage we’ve overlooked.”
Flir’s expression softened. “Sofia, I know you’re worried about your father, but –”
“Forgive me, but I believe she is correct, dilar,” Pevin interrupted.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Flir shook her head but gestured that he should speak. “And your suggestion?”
“Someone has to infiltrate the palace again – we need to disrupt them from many sides, if we want to be successful. We must appear bigger, more capable than we are.”
Flir sat back, face thoughtful. “The risk is great.”
“True.” Pevin did not press his case, as if the man were well aware of the fact and did not care. Or perhaps did not see it as a true deterrent. And maybe for Flir it wasn’t.
“I say we meet Pevin halfway,” Notch said. He had been slapping the pommel of a knife into his palm as he sat. “We spy on the palace, we find whatever servants remain, we do proper reconnaissance.”
“Fine. But how?” Flir asked.
“I will Spirit-Walk,” Sofia said. She did not add that the Ecsoli seemed able to replicate her feat, but if it was the only way to learn more about the enemy, then she would do it. There was even a chance she could locate others, like Marla and Pietta. Pietta...was she even alive? Sofia couldn’t fight a sense of guilt – she hadn’t thought about her friend in so long. But there was another reason to take the risk, it would stall everyone...and maybe Father would have enough time to return.
And she could search for him while she was out there – the Harper wasn’t that far away.
“It’s a good idea, Flir,” Notch said.
“It is.” Flir grinned. “Back to work then – I want people sleeping in shifts, I want the acor organised and I want a double watch set. Let’s be ready – by this time tomorrow night I want to be taking the fight to these filthy usurpers.”
Chapter 39.
Notch rose from the barrel he’d been perched upon. “Anything?”
“What?” Sofia replied without turning from where she stared out the narrow window. He joined her. Below, the morning light hit the street beneath the Temple. Clearly, her attention was not in the room, but where she spirit-walked the streets somewhere, no doubt searching for her father, one last time. She’d have to head to the palace to learn whatever she could soon. “I should be able to find him by locating Osani,” she murmured.
It was well that she should worry for him. After all, if the Lord Protector could not return, it was a grim sign. Though, he had survived everything else so far. Few men were as determined as Danillo.
“Not again,” Sofia said.
Notch put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched but he gave a reassuring squeeze. “Perhaps he is hiding Osani from the Ecsoli, and that clouds your vision too?”
Sofia straightened, turning to face him. She removed the mask, revealing new lines beneath her eyes, dark smudges. She should have been well-rested after a full night’s sleep – he’d let her sleep through, taking her watch – but the strain was taking a dark toll. Was she maintaining the temple’s shield even as she slept? “It’s the same with Seto. Maybe I’m not searching properly? I’m working on instinct and I’ve looked everywhere I can think, Notch.”
“I know. Search again after the palace – we need to know.”
She wiped a hand over her face. “You’re right.”
“You found him once before, you know.”
A short nod, then she straightened, as if putting her fear aside. Even her cheekbones stood out a little, as if she’d lost weight. “We found him – you were there too.”
Notch began a reply but stopped. Her cheekbones! That’s what he’d forgotten to tell everyone; bones, bones, stolen bones. “Sofia, when you’re in the palace can you look for something else?”
“Of course.”
“I need you to see if the Ecsoli have been collecting corpses.”
“What? Why?”
“I just remembered. I ran into a Sea Priest on my way into the city. He told me that the Ecsoli are stealing the dead.”
“Stealing the dead? What reason could they have?”
He scratched at his beard. “Exactly my question. I’m going to the Temple to see what else I can discover; I’ll return soon.”
“Notch, wait. Take Emilio.”
“I’d rather him stay so he can look out for you.”
“I have Argeon. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Then talk to Emilio. Or find something else to do; you’re both young,” Notch said with a grin.
Sofia flushed and he chuckled as he headed for the steps, ignoring her shout. But his own mirth didn’t last. If they didn’t find a way to put an end to the Ecsoli it was likely to be one of the last times either of them – any of them – would be smiling.
On his way out, Notch took a moment to find Flir, but seeing her deep in discussion with Pevin and Holindo, he slipped from the temple without interrupting. Ciano, who stood watch, Notch told where he was going and then he was striding through the empty sunlight, heading south and west toward the Sea Temple.
The day was bright enough but there was little warmth to the sun. At least it wasn’t raining. His path took him through several markets but they were all quiet. Once he saw a pair of the Gigansi at the end of a street but neither took any notice. To them, no doubt he was simply one insignificant man in a thoroughly cowed city.
A lone Ecsoli who stood at a crossroad posed a different problem – the man was stopping anyone armed. Notch turned into a side street before reaching the invader. Then, he jogged the next two blocks, just to be safe. Each time he paused to glance over his backtrail, there were no blue-cloaks flying after.
He paused across from the Sea Priest’s Temple, crouching behind neat stacks of timber. Were the Ecsoli already seeking to rebuild? Or was it someone else? Someone quite optimistic if so. No-one entered or left the temple as he watched. The twin statues of Ana, flowing robes carved with fins and leaping fish, fell into shadow as clouds covered the sun. Both faces looked grim, rather than triumphant, as was customary.
“Help me, Lady.”
He pulled his hood high before crossing to the stone steps and slipping within. The antechamber stood unattended, only a single lamp glowing within the hands of a smaller statue of Ana.
The main altar room was broad but low-roofed, lined with seats, each before dozens of small pools of water in basin that stood on podiums. Worshippers were meant to place tiny items of value into the seawater in the basins, either an offering to the Priests or a token for a departed loved one.
Many people simply went to the harbour or stared out across the ocean from the tier walls if they wanted to remember past loved ones – yet he saw many coins and objects, rings, tiny carvings and other items in the basins as he walked toward the main altar. He paused at an empty basin and took a coin from his purse, dropping it into the water.
For Raff.
Or for the city – for everyone, for they all needed the Gods’ help. Celnos, Ana, whoever. He’d even settle for a surprise from the Imp God.
“Thank you for your offering.” An old Priest approached, his black gloved hands gesturing to a seat. “Will you sit?”
Notch complied and the man sat beside him. “I’m hoping you can help me.”
“I will try, Captain.”
He studied the Priest a moment. White hair and dark eyes ringed by blue smudges, wrinkles, a square jaw – but unfamiliar. “Do we know one another?”
“No. I simply recognise you. The beard is new but the face is the same. Well met, Captain Medoro, Hero of the Glass War. I am Father Lucianos.”
He scratched at the beard. Heavier now, it ought to have concealed him better. “Then I will ask you directly, Father, for I hope you will believe that I am working for the people once more. Have you had any more thefts, lately?”
The Priest blinked. “Thefts?”
“Some time ago, I came across a Priest in the street. He was confused about something I suspect the Ecsoli have been doing with your dead.”
A frown creased his face but the Priest stood. “Ah. I will show you.”
Notch followed him into a side passage and then down a flight of stairs. The temperature dropped and he shivered. The Priest paused at a door, producing a key then leading Notch along another passage. Yet another stairwell, this one in a tight spiral, which halted finally in a narrow but high-ceilinged room stretching beyond the limits of the lamplight.
At the bottom, Father Lucianos paused to catch his breath, waving away Notch’s concern. “I am well, only old,” he said. “The stair is more formidable than it once was.”
Alcoves filled the walls, and within each lay skeletons yellowed with age. At first, it was only a single skeleton with fragments of cloth and lines of webs in each but as they walked, alcoves were sometimes filled with two, three or four bodies. The walls had changed too, the stonework less ornate, newer-seeming.
Buried bones, just as the Oyn-Dir mentioned?
“This isn’t the preparation chamber,” Notch said.
“No. But the Ecsoli have also been here, for reasons we cannot fathom. We are working to repair the breech.”
More lights glowed ahead, illuminating several figures in deep blue robes. They worked to repair a huge hole in the tomb-wall. Several lifted stone onto mortar while others lined the cut stone with a silvery liquid poured from black-gloved hands. None broke concentration from their tasks as Notch watched.
“A precaution,” the priest said. “The sea-silver will infuse the stone it touches, and that around it, with a strength beyond that of conventional means.”
“Magic?” Notch asked. To see the Priests work any kind of power was unusual – but the silvery liquid certainly held a glow independent of the lamplight. And if Flir’s strength came from the Renovar Goddess, why couldn’t Ana lend something of her power to her Priests?
If that was truly what happened.
Father Lucianos smiled. “Perhaps not magic. But here, this is what I wished to show you.” He gestured to the nearest alcoves. Empty. Notch turned, empty. He bent by an opening near the ground and lifted a thread of blue cloth caught on stone. Not the same shade as the Priests.
“So they’ve stolen bones from here, too? Why?”
“That we do not understand. But there is another question I have been asking myself.”
“Yes?”
“The Ecsoli came here, that much we know. There is evidence, including eyewitness accounts and two disappearances. But if the Ecsoli are in command of the city – and they are – then why the subterfuge?”
Notch nodded. “Why don’t they simply appear and demand whatever they want.”
“Indeed.”
“Shame?” Notch suggested.
“Shame. Interesting, what makes you say so?” Father Lucianos asked.
“What if the Ecsoli still worship Ana and they fear to openly break tradition?”
“I do not believe so,” Father Lucianos said. “Ana would see, no matter how they came. I fear the Ecsoli worship only themselves.”
“What if it were only some Ecsoli involved? Not all Anaskari follow Ana – why wouldn’t similar beliefs persist in the Old Land?”
“Possibly – and yet, why take the bones of our dead in the first instance?”
Notch snapped his fingers. “It’s not Ana, it’s us,” he said. “Danillo, Flir, everyone. They’re hiding it from anyone who might spread word of their activities.”
“If that were so, we would not be having this conversation, surely?”
Notch sighed. He was getting a little carried away. “Then perhaps they do revere Ana and her Priesthood after all. What if they seek quiet, rather than complete silence? After all, they have the populace utterly subdued. Who would notice save you yourselves?”
Father Lucianos offered a wry smile. “And who would we tell? Instead, we have sought to hide our own failure to protect those who’ve chosen our care over the pyre.”
Notch thanked the Priest. “This has helped, Father. I hope the next time we meet it is when we have driven the Ecsoli out.”
“As do I, Captain.”
Notch climbed the stairs, taking them two-at-a-time. A flicker of hope struggled in his chest. Had he learnt much? Was this what the Oyn-Dir had meant by ‘buried bones’? Hard to say – and yet, every piece of information had to make a difference. The Ecsoli were stealing bones of humans and doing it quietly. That meant it was more important than it seemed.
And more, the Ecsoli hesitated around Priests of Ana.
Was it a way in?
Notch lengthened his stride.
Chapter 40.
Flir paced the ruined hall of the Mountain God’s Temple, passing in and out of a column of light.
Pevin watched on, as did Ciano. Holindo sat on a hunk of stone, sharpening his blade. The whetstone whispered rhythmically. Metti, Mayla and the others were still upstairs, safe enough for the moment. Mayla had pressed them all into service, working them as cooks, seamstresses and storekeepers – and a blessing it was too. Flir didn’t need such details bothering her, not now. Sofia and Emilio spoke together softly, expressions worried, heads close together, holding hands. The young woman – no – the woman, looked somewhat refreshed but whatever strain Metti eased by assisting with the cloaking, was still present.
If only Danillo would return. Or would he be another one lost, like Luik?
And Notch, what had he been thinking, the fool?
“Where is he?” Flir snapped.
No-one answered.
She stopped – pointing to Pevin. “Can you find me a blue cloak? I’m heading out there to –”
A sentry entered. “Someone approaches.”
Holindo stood and Sofia stopped her conversation.
Footsteps approached and paused at the door, pushing it open wider.
Notch entered. His arm appeared fully healed now, by the way he’d pushed on the door, and he wore a pleased expression. He raised an eyebrow when he saw them all. “Expecting someone else?”
“Damn you, Notch,” Flir growled. “Don’t go off alone like that, what if we’d lost you?” she said, unable to keep a note of worry from her voice. Up until now, keeping her emotions in check hadn’t been so hard.
“Sorry, Flir. I apologise to you all,” he said. “But I hope I bring something useful.”
“Yes?”
“The Ecsoli hold Ana and her Priests in some regard, I believe that we can disguise ourselves as such if we need to sneak into the palace. I’ve also learnt that they are stealing human bones now. In secret.”
A quiet fell over the room.
Flir frowned. What in Mishalar’s name could the Ecsoli want human bones for? More power?
“Human bones hold no power,” Sofia said into the hush. “They are not of the Sea Beast.”
“Did you find anything in your Spirit-Walk?” Notch asked Sofia.
“I didn’t cover the whole palace but we’ve been waiting for you; Marinus has left.”
Notch straightened. “Into the city? Or searching for Vinezi and the Crucible?”
“Into the mountains, yes,” Flir said. “And we need to decide what to do.”
“A shame we can’t simply let them kill one another,” Holindo said.
“I will follow Marinus,” Sofia said.
“My Lady –” Emilio began, then paused. He hung his head a moment. “I know what you will say. You will say that no-one else carries a Greatmask.”
“Yes.”
“Then let me volunteer to travel with you,” the Captain countered.
“And I,” Notch said. “Flir?”
Flir sighed even as she clenched a fist. Finding Marinus might mean finding Kanis; Sofia had seen no sign of him. And better, finding Marinus might mean at last putting a stop to Vinezi, if he lived. And yet...someone had to look after everything else. She unclenched her fist. There were still Ecsoli stuck in the palace, Gigansi everywhere, the people needed her. She still had the acor. Someone had to take up Seto’s role.
“You know I would love nothing more than to tear Vinezi to pieces again, to chase those bastards down, but I will stay. Pevin, Holindo and the others and I will deal with the Ecsoli that remain. We have the acor, we have hope.”
Notch straightened, though his eyes revealed disappointment. And fear. Was he thinking of Luik? Mishalar, would she lose him too?
The sentry burst back inside, eyes wide. “There’s an army approaching the walls.”
“What?” Flir’s own question was buried in a half a dozen other, similar cries.
She strode over and pulled the man closer, with perhaps a little too much force, as the fellow’s feet scraped stone. “Rumours spread of a glowing army approaching the wall from the plain.”
“Who claims this?” she asked.
“All, Lady Flir. I’ve sent a runner.”
“Good. Let’s not make any rash decisions,” Flir said. “It could be anything.”
“It’s the Sap-Born,” Sofia said.
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