Divined (11 page)

“The Fallen One?” Clio asked, interrupting.

“Well, yes. We don’t have any of the Deities’ true names down here, but there are other ways of referring to a particular Deity.”

“My father, he called Vazuil, ‘The Low One’. I never saw his symbol but maybe there’s an easier way to find him under that name.”

“Mmm, it’s possible.” Ealis stood and rolled up the scroll he had been reading. “Tomorrow.”

“Go ahead, I’m going to keep looking for a while.”

“Clio, you can barely keep your eyes open. It’s time we retired for the night. Won’t your sisters worry about you?”

“I’ll go soon, just a little while longer. I promise,” she said, already turning back to the next scroll.

You won’t find anything that will help you in here
, Vazuil hissed.

Clio smiled.
You sound nervous. I’m coming for you, Vazuil. I’m coming for all of you.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Clio returned to the library each day as soon as the temple opened. Ealis came in the evenings, after he had attended to his duties as a healer and councilor. Each night, he brought supper and asked Clio what she had found, and each night, Clio confessed she was no closer to finding out who was behind the attack.

Ashira came from time to time, but she always left early, and her mind was never focused. Clio sensed that the girl had taken to searching the city for any trace of Ixie. They never spoke about Ixie’s departure. When Clio had explained that Ixie was gone, Ashira hadn’t said a word. She hadn’t needed to. Clio had seen the blame in the girl’s eyes. Staying in the library was easier than facing Ashira’s heartbreak.

But as more days passed and Clio still wasn’t any closer to finding anything useful, Vazuil got worse and worse. And when she unrolled a new scroll one day, a drop of blood landed on the brown ink. She felt a pinching beneath her eyes, and then blood poured from her nose.

“Ealis!” she called, holding her thick sleeve up to staunch the bleeding.

“What happened?” He rushed to her side and tilted her head back.

“I found him—Vazuil—the Low One. He’s here.” Her eyes and nose stung, but she barely felt it. Vazuil was angry, and whatever made him angry was something that could help her.

“The Low One,” Ealis read, “Looked down on by his brothers for his lies and sly manipulations. Ruthless but weak. His followers have turned from him over the years as he has fallen in the ranks of the Deities.”

Clio laughed, and blood dripped into her mouth. “Not as strong as he likes to pretend. Perhaps I
should
summon you,” she called to the ceiling. “Perhaps you’re weak enough to be killed.”

Summon me, please. A mortal cannot kill a Deity, not while he’s worshipped. And I’m worshipped still, mark my words. Summon me though, and we’ll see what happens.

Soon, Vazuil
, she promised.

You think you would be better off without me, Clio? Two scrolls to the left. Look and see what your future holds without me.

All at once, she felt his presence lift from her mind. Her nose ceased its bleeding, and for the first time in days, her thoughts were clear. It was a trick. She knew it was. Still, she eyed the scroll two slots to the left from where she’d taken Vazuil’s. Her father. She felt it even before she pulled it down.

“What is it?” Ealis asked.

Her hands were shaking. Instead of black lettering, an image grew as she unrolled the parchment. At first, all she saw was red. Red screaming faces, twisted with agony. One half of the image was a violent tangle of body parts strewn across the base of an altar. A colossal man stood before the altar, looking down on a row of people lined up and walking toward the carnage, seemingly prepared for the slaughter awaiting them. The man was drenched in blood, his hands covered in gore. But in the middle of all the red, his eyes stood out, white and depthless. Clio remembered those eyes.

“‘The Bloodied One’,” Ealis read over her shoulder.

“My father,” Clio whispered, feeling sick.

“
This
is your father?”

His parting words came back to her.
Tell me, can you not foresee your end now, Oracle?

She could. It was staring up at her. And if she hadn’t bargained with Vazuil, this bloody monster would be the one controlling her mind, sending her Visions, torturing her. Suddenly, she wasn’t so eager to break her ties to Vazuil.

“But his mark doesn’t match the one you saw,” Ealis said, pointing to the symbol on her father’s chest. “Neither does Vazuil’s.”

She flung the scroll back into its slot, not wanting to see it any longer, knowing it was already burned into her eyes—a vision of the future.

“Then we are nowhere closer to finding out who is behind all of this!” she cried, tears stinging her eyes. There wasn’t enough time. How could she battle three Deities at once? How could she protect Riece and defend herself from her father and Vazuil? She couldn’t. The realization hit her with enough strength to force her back into her seat. Who was she to think she could defy these beings? She was nothing. And without the strength they had given her, she would be worse than nothing. Just another pathetic mortal like the ones lined up to be torn apart by the Bloodied One.

There was no way to fight fate. She should have learned that by now. It had been easier when the Visions told her what to do, who to fight. Choosing to make her own decisions, to take fate into her own hands, only opened up a world of doubt and fear. She was on her own. There was nothing she could do, and no draught could take the fear away. Tears fell on her hands before she realized she was crying.

“Perhaps we should stop for the day.” Ealis laid a hand on her shoulder.

“I can’t stop,” she said through the pressure in her chest. “If I stop, then she’ll find him.” She stood, returning to the shelves as she fought back sobs.

“Him?” Ealis’ voice asked quietly behind her.

“There’s just no time. Even if I do find out who sent her, then what did I think I could do to stop this Deity? I’ve never been able to defy them. The most I’ve managed is running away.” Sobs wracked through her, shaking her down to her toes. Something in her chest clenched, and she couldn’t breathe through the tightness. Her hands clawed at her robes, trying to relieve the pressure.

“Shhh,” Ealis whispered, pulling her away from the racks and turning her to face him.

Suddenly, she was in his arms, her face pressed into his shoulder as his hand gently stroked her hair until her cries subsided and her tears ran dry.

“Tell me truly this time, Ealis. Why do you do so much for me?” She pulled back to look at him. “I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

He glanced away but his hands didn’t cease their calming strokes. “When I healed you, I saw more than what you were hiding—I saw this incredible woman with a fierce strength, an unbreakable spirit and an honest heart. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

His eyes met hers once more, and Clio swallowed, dropping her gaze to the floor.

His arms released her. “Don’t worry. I’ve know there was a ‘him’ ever since I healed you. Your heart is full of him. I’ve never felt anything so strongly from a patient in all my time.” He smiled.

“That’s always been the problem,” Clio said. “Everyone, all of my enemies, they’ve all known my weakness when it comes to him.” She laughed, remembering what the bald woman had said. “Love makes blind slaves of us all.”

Ealis straightened. “What was that?”

“Just something the woman said to me. I had called her a slave to her Deity, and it seemed to really anger her. She was threatening me—saying she would have my cooperation because I was a slave to my love.”

“Of course,” Ealis said, palming his forehead and then grinning broadly. “Deities, I am so foolish. I should have known better.”

“What is it?”

“I think I remember where I saw the mark before. Come to my home tomorrow morning.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ashira accompanied Clio to Ealis’ home at dawn the next day. The silence was heavy as they walked, and Clio found herself searching for something to say, but these days it was as if every pause, every look between them was full of Ixie. It had surprised Clio when Ashira announced her intention to come with Clio this day.

As they stepped off the boat on the east bank, Ashira spoke so quietly Clio would have missed it had her ears not been so full of silence.

“Rumors are that the Emperor has fallen ill.”

Clio turned to face the small girl. “Where did you hear this?”

Ashira smiled the first smile Clio had seen in weeks. “I’ve been listening to the city guards like Ixie used to, although I can’t flirt like she can,” Ashira said with a blush.

Clio laughed. “No one can flirt like Ixie, believe me.” The air felt lighter, the sun brighter, and Clio found herself grinning in return.

“Do you think she went back to Sheehan?”

“I don’t know.” Clio tensed, ready for Ashira’s accusing glare.

But Ashira only shrugged. “I hope so. I hope she went back to help King Derik. He needs all the help he can get without you.” There was something soft in Ashira’s tone, and Clio knew she had been forgiven.

She reached out, taking Ashira’s hand. “I miss her too, you know.”

“I know.” She squeezed Clio’s hand. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. It just took me a while to sort through everything. I thought I was mad at you for pushing her away, and part of me was, but truthfully, I was more upset with her. She didn’t even say goodbye to me, did you know that?”

They were walking down the councilor’s row now, Ealis’ house in sight ahead of them. “If she had stopped to say goodbye to you, she wouldn’t have left. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you, the opposite actually. She needed to be elsewhere, though. She wants to fight more than I’m able, and I didn’t want to hold her back.”

“It’s all right, Clio. I’m with you. I want to fight the Deities, no matter what that means or how long it takes.”

One of Ealis’ servants waited for them outside the doors. “Well, let’s hope Ealis has found something, and maybe we can really do something,” Clio said, bowing as they were ushered inside.

“Perfect timing, Clio.” Ealis emerged in the hallway, grinning excitedly.

“So you found out where you’ve seen the mark before? You know whose it is?” Clio asked, her words coming out in a breathy rush.

“I have. Follow me.” He led them into the dining room where a woman sat at his table. She was slender and pale. Her hair was long, knotted elaborately at the top of her head and adorned with gems and stones of every color and size. She wore enough gold and riches to rival the Emperor himself.

“Clio,” Ealis said, walking into the room with his arm out, “I would like to introduce you to an acquaintance of mine, the lovely Lady Iola. Iola, this is the friend I spoke of, the Lady Clio and her sister, the Lady Ashira.”

The woman nodded respectfully without rising from her seat. Clio shot a confused look at Ealis, who smiled and gestured for everyone to take a seat.

“Iola is a paramour of one of my fellow council members. She’s been in the city, how long is it?” He turned to the woman.

“Ten years now.” She smiled prettily at Ealis. “As much as I do love visiting you, I have a very busy day ahead of me today. What is it you wanted to ask me?”

Ealis cleared his throat. “Iola, I was wondering if you would be kind enough to show us the brand of your former master.”

Clio watched as every muscle in Iola’s body tensed. Her hand flew to her chest, and Clio saw terror in the woman’s bright eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Clio began, uncertain as she looked between Ealis and the woman. “Were you a priestess of some kind?”

Iola laughed, her fear seemingly forgotten for the moment. “Certainly not.”

“Then I must confess I’m a bit lost,” Clio said, turning to Ealis.

“Clio, Iola came here like many of Cearo’s citizens from slavery.”

Iola reached for the wine and took a sip. “And I don’t typically allow anyone but my dearest lovers to see the flesh where I was branded, but Ealis saved my life when I first came to this city. I wouldn’t have the life I lead now were it not for him taking the time to watch over a starving slave girl. For him, I will show you this piece of my shame.” She unknotted her robes, pulling aside the heavy fabrics to reveal her flesh. There was no mistaking it. In the center of her chest, just over her heart was the same mark as the bald woman’s.

“It’s not a mark of the Deities at all,” Ealis said. “Right, Iola? That’s why we couldn’t find it in the library.”

“Not from the Deities, no. From cruel masters who style themselves as Deities. They thought themselves as powerful as the Deities, and they marked us so we would never forget it. I never have.”

“Then that means the woman who attacked me was a slave from the same master.” Clio winced as Vazuil sought to break through her thoughts. She’d taken two swallows of the draught before coming, knowing Vazuil would seek to break her if they found anything. Her hands shook in her lap from weightless exhaustion. “Which Deity was worshipped where you are from?”

“I can’t speak for the masters,” Iola answered. “But there wasn’t much worship among the slaves. We didn’t have any love for Deities who gave power to our masters. But there were some, not many, but some who worshipped a lost Deity.”

“The Lost One,” Ealis said almost to himself. “I’ve come across him. I didn’t think anyone still worshipped him. Our texts refer to him as so weak he’s nearly mortal.”

“Yes,” Iola agreed. “Like I said, not many did worship. He only ever had one priestess at a time and a strange one at that. She’s the reason I never joined in the worship. A vicious woman. She would boast about her black magics, believing she was given visions of the future to justify the blood she shed.”

Clio’s heart pounded furiously in her chest, and her breath came so short she could hardly voice her question. “Did this priestess shave her head?”

Iola turned sharply to Clio. “Yes, she did, how did you know? She also branded her scalp with these dreadful markings, as if our flesh wasn’t mutilated enough.”

Clio stood. Vazuil was laughing in her mind, and she couldn’t think. All this time, she’d thought she was the last one. The only remaining vessel. But she wasn’t. There was another Oracle.