Consorts of Heaven (36 page)

She screamed.

Sais looked up at Kerin’s scream. ‘What’s wrong?’ he called.

‘I - there is a dead body in here!’ said Kerin, backing away.

He went over to Kerin, watched by the three priests. He shouldn’t have started using jargon with them, but after weeks of mud and wood and stone, the bright, clean lines of inset screens and comaboxes suddenly reminded him of the world he belonged in.

The puzzle to open the door to the Sanctaith Glan had been pathetically simple: a ten-digit keypad with a minus sign above it, and next to it a child’s sum:

19 - 30 =

Even as he’d typed out ‘-11’, he wondered at how easy this was. He should have known getting out would be harder - perhaps, now Sefion had smashed the lock, impossible. The idea of being locked in here when a vengeful Sidhe came down from orbit made his balls shrivel.

There was an alternative. It wasn’t a full harvest - several of the comaboxes had dark telltales. But given the carousel would be unloaded into the hold of a Sidhe ship, hitching a ride in an empty box wouldn’t be his first choice.

The comabox Kerin had looked into showed green telltales. The occupant was on ice until the Sidhe picked them up. The next three along had amber lights, indicating that the stasis cycle was underway. The boxes were an odd design, but used standard principles. He just needed to work out how to reverse the process.

‘It’s all right, Kerin,’ he said, ‘that’s not Damaru. He’s in one of the ones with the amber lights. I can get him out.’

‘Of course, the Escori did say!’ She checked the control panel on the end of the next box round, then stepped up to look in the observation window. ‘Tis too dim! I cannot see who this is.’

The trio of priests had approached the carousel and now watched with a mixture of alarm and interest.

Sais called over to them, ‘Prysor, which one of these boxes is the Consort from Dangwern in?’

‘You must not . . . you must not profane the sacred sleeping chambers!’

Sais resisted the temptation to retort
Or what?
Einon still held a loaded crossbow, even if he seemed to have forgotten it. He had no intention of letting any more innocents than necessary go up to the
Setting Sun
. He looked at Kerin and whispered, ‘I’ll wake them all.’

She nodded, though her gaze kept going back to the box with the body in.

Sais called, ‘Prysor, did you know that one of the Consorts is dead?’

‘That is not a Consort,’ said Prysor defiantly.

‘Then who is it?’

Prysor said nothing.

Beside him, Urien asked, ‘Prysor, is that Idwal?’

Sais turned back to the control panel; as long as the priests were talking they wouldn’t be shooting him in the back.

Prysor said, ‘Idwal does not rest in sacred slumber! He defiled this place by his presence - as do these peasants!’

‘So Idwal got in here?’ asked Urien. ‘He solved the puzzle, did he not?’

‘Aye, though we later destroyed the blasphemous scribblings that gave him the knowledge to so do!’ Prysor said, then added nastily, ‘And I believe Sefion tried to cut off the forbidden knowledge at its source.’

Sais glanced over his shoulder to see Einon looking nauseous.

A soft ping made him turn back to the comabox. Assuming these boxes worked like those he was used to, he had just halted the stasis cycle. Next, he needed to reverse it. If he screwed up now, he could kill the box’s occupant. Despite the need to concentrate, he found himself listening to the priests.

‘But what happened to Idwal?’ asked Urien.

Prysor said, ‘When we could not find him, we realised that he had managed to enter the Sanctaith Glan. We found him lying dead by the door, struck down by the vengeance of the Cariad.’

Sais was glad he hadn’t tried to test the door security. Looked like he’d guessed right: having the wrong DNA was enough to fry you if you tried the palmlock. Idwal’s body must have been in here a while: the place still smelled of death. He wondered in passing why the chamber had two independent unlocking mechanisms - a palmlock and the panel that Sefion had destroyed.

Behind him Prysor was saying ‘—burnt his body in the testing hall where no one would disturb the ceremony. Alden wanted to take him outside so his soul might be freed under the sky, but then we would have had to declare the death. Sefion said that was too much of a risk. The Cariad needs us to keep the Tyr stable until she returns, reborn.’

If only you knew
, thought Sais. Under his nimble fingers, the amber light went off.
Got it.
Now the system should start bringing the occupant round.

‘Then we return to the original question,’ said Urien. From his tone it sounded like Urien’s respect for his fellow Escori was long gone. ‘Who is the dead body?’

Sais didn’t hear the answer; Prysor pitched his voice too low. He stood up, ready to move onto the next box.

‘Can I help?’ whispered Kerin.

‘I don’t think so. Just stay close.’

He heard Einon exclaim, ‘That cannot be!’

Before he started on the second box Sais called out, ‘What can’t be?’

The priests looked up at him. He didn’t expect an answer, but Urien, looking startled, said, ‘Prysor says that is the Cariad. The real one.’ He turned to the other Escori. Sais bent down and got to work, keeping half an ear on the conversation.

Prysor sounded halfway between defiance and panic. ‘Idwal had a light with him; he must have checked the sleeping chambers. On finding one contained the Cariad, he attempted to wake her, but he lacked our holy knowledge. He disrupted the processes that kept her uncorrupted. When we found what he had done we tried to undo the damage, but it was too late. She had - she had already begun to decay.’

‘Like an earthly mortal,’ said Urien, his voice thoughtful. ‘I wonder: how will the Skymothers react to finding their Beloved child returned as a rotten corpse?’

‘That thought has never left my mind!’ Prysor wailed. ‘Every prayer I have uttered since we found Idwal in here has begged for their forgiveness and understanding.’

Now Sais knew what he was doing, reversing the stasis was a lot easier. He moved round to the third and final box.

Prysor continued, ‘We argued how this could be, the three of us. I think that was when Alden began to lose his hold on sense.’

‘He had words with me, and though he did not lie, I knew much remained unsaid,’ said Urien. ‘So much pain could have been averted had you only confided in me!’

‘We could not!’

‘Sais?’ whispered Kerin as he bent down.

‘What is it?’

‘The Escori said only two Consorts passed the final test. Why are there three boxes with amber lights?’

‘Good point,’ he said. ‘Let’s ask.’ He finished the reset first. The Escorai traded criticisms and accusations while Einon looked on. Sais stood up and called out, ‘Who’s in the third box?’

The priests stopped arguing and looked over at him.

‘You said only two Consorts passed the final test. So why three boxes?’

Urien stared at Prysor. ‘It is Lillwen, is it not?’

Prysor nodded.

Poor cow: exploited for sex all her life, then forced to take part in the priest’s deception, and now sent up to orbit to have her mind emptied by the Sidhe who was due to take over as Cariad.

He looked at Kerin. From her expression, she was thinking the same thing. Then her gaze sharpened, and she said quietly, ‘I want to know it all. No matter how bad, I must know the full truth.’

Taken aback, Sais said, ‘You mean - about the Sidhe?’

She nodded.

‘You believe me then?’

Kerin gave a tight, mirthless smile. ‘Tis as they say: Season a lie with the truth and t’will go down easier. These Sidhe told us lies with the truth in, and like cattle being driven to the slaughter, we believed them. They’ - she nodded at the bickering priests - ‘still do. I do not. Tell me everything.’

Where to start?
‘Shit, Kerin, it’s a long and twisted story. They’ve been around for thousands of years. And though they aren’t divine they have got a bit of a god-complex. Goddess-complex rather. They’re all female - that’s one thing your religion has got right. I reckon there really were five of them originally, when they set themselves up as your gods.’

‘And does Melltith exist?’

‘Melltith? That’s . . . the Adversary, isn’t it? No, that’s just . . . that’s part of the lie: something to be frightened of so you’ll love the Skymothers more.’ Sais heard a faint noise. The alarm on the door had stopped when Sefion smashed the panel, so it couldn’t be that.

‘So, the Cursed One is no more than a story . . . Sais, can you hear something?’

‘Yes, I can.’ A deep thrumming was rising through the floor. Sais looked around and, for the first time, up. A circle the size of the carousel had been cut out of the ceiling and replaced with the heavily shielded cover the carousel slotted into for its journey up into orbit.

‘It is time!’ said Prysor. Sais looked over to see the priest drop to his knees.

‘What is happening?’ asked Kerin. ‘What is that sound?’

Prysor had closed his eyes. Urien answered for him, ‘The ascension is announced by a Heavenly song that grows to fill the Tyr.’ Einon made to kneel too, until Urien put out a hand to stop him.

Sais said, ‘I was afraid of that. How long do we have?’

‘Less than the embrace of love, more than a dying breath.’ Prysor spoke with fearful ecstasy.

‘Very helpful,’ muttered Sais.

Kerin turned to him. ‘We must make them tell us which box Damaru is in. We have to get him out!’

‘We can’t. The boxes won’t open until the process has been reversed.’ He’d been assuming they had time to get Damaru, Lillwen and the other Consort out. He’d been assuming a lot of things. He realised he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let Damaru go up to the Sidhe ship, and he couldn’t just wait here until the Sidhe came for him. He stepped off the carousel.

Prysor began to pray. ‘Blessed Mothers, search our hearts, and find us not wanting . . .’

Urien started towards the carousel, calling Einon after him.

Kerin followed Sais around the outside of the array.

He found an unlit box and bent down. With the box powered down, it was just a matter of pressing a button. The lid clicked. He stood, and lifted the bottom of the lid. It rose easily, opening up towards the beanstalk like the petal of a flower.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Kerin.

‘The only tech in here was that control panel Sefion smashed, so I’m not going to be able to send my message from here. Plus, I don’t fancy hanging round waiting for the Sidhe to come down. So I’m going up.’

‘You’re
ascending
? But - you can’t.’

‘The empty box will just carry me up, it won’t put me to sleep. When I get to the top I’ll let myself out, try to find Damaru and - wait, Kerin!’

‘If Damaru is going up, then so am I.’ She ran to the next box and started to batter at the control panel with her palms.

‘No! I’m likely to find a bunch of Sidhe up there. You’ve no idea what they’re like—’

‘Aye, so you will need help. Open this box for me. Please.’ His own box shuddered under his hands.

‘God’s sake, woman! All right.’ He came over and touched a button. The lid clicked and she pushed it up.

Sais went back to his box. He glimpsed Urien examining the panel on the box beyond Kerin’s, Einon at his shoulder. The whole carousel began to shake. Sais called out to Kerin as they climbed in, ‘Pull the lid down and make sure it clicks shut. You’ll be in there for a while, probably a couple of hours. It’ll get cold, and it’ll be pitch dark, but you’ll be fine. These things are designed to keep you safe. Just stay calm.’

‘I will try.’ She grasped the edge of the box.

‘You won’t feel like you’re moving, but you’ll know when we reach the top, because it’ll get light again. At that point, you have to fill your mind with nonsense. Think of nursery rhymes, or stuff from the village. Don’t think of me, or what’s happened today. The Sidhe could pick up what you’re thinking, and we mustn’t let them know there’re two of us.’

He heard Urien say, ‘You swore you would obey without question: now keep your promise!’

Einon stood on the step of the open box, looking in. Urien stood behind him. As he watched, Einon half-climbed, half-fell in. Urien slammed the lid down and stepped back.

With a final shudder, the carousel started to lift.

‘Close the lid now, Kerin!’ called Sais.

He closed his own box, then flopped back on the pillow, dry-mouthed and sweat-moistened. He felt the initial motion of the lifting mechanism - then the cover clicked into place, everything went dark and all sensation of movement ceased as the drive cut in.

Well, he was committed now.

They both - all - were.

He drew a long slow breath. He needed a plan, ideally an exceptionally smart one. He reviewed what he knew. The
Setting Sun
was a large cargo-hauler with passenger capacity. It would dock with a transfer-station at the geo-sync point along the beanstalk. Given they left this place alone for decades, the Sidhe would want the set-up as low-maintenance as possible, so most likely the transfer-station was just a big pressurised room clamped around the beanstalk, with an irised airlock in the floor to admit the lifting carousel.

When he’d first spotted the
Setting Sun
, back before he knew it was a Sidhe ship, he’d estimated it would have a crew of six to ten, most likely an extended family, with additional space for up to a dozen passengers. The initial request for aid had come from a male pilot. The appearance of the nondescript, rather scruffy man had driven any thoughts of Sidhe influence out of Sais’s mind, and the man’s convincing air of panic had reeled him right in.

Even now the details of his imprisonment and interrogation remained mercifully vague. He was fairly sure he’d met two different Sidhe - he remembered how his main interrogator had summoned help to batter down the defences Nual had left in his head.