Emergence (Book 2) (34 page)

"His strength is something I count upon," Donovan said. "Weak men are useless. They have no conviction. No honor. They bend to a whim as easily as a sapling to the wind. Men such as this one, however, may be harder to turn, but once convinced on a course of act
ion, they rarely veer from it."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Ciara stared up at the walls of Nisair in complete awe. Broadhead and Guldarech were the only other cities she had ever been to. Neither could compare to the Imperial capital, even from the outside. Ciara couldn't begin to imagine the city that must exist within. The tree-lined road they followed skirted the western side of that great wall. A wide river flanked them to the right; the whitewashed edifice of Nisair looming like a mountain range to the left. When she indulged in the dizzying prospect of allowing her eyes trail upwards, she could just make out the shapes of armored guards patrolling the battlement. Flags, bathed in the long rays of the late evening sun, snapped atop the towers in a wind that reached the escort as only a light breeze. In the shadow of that immense wall, night seemed much closer.

They had ridden hard all day with only one brief stop to feed and water the horses, and grab a bite of cold rations for themselves. Ciara had tried to convince Bolin to let her check him over. He looked pale in the sun, and his skin had a faint sheen.

"You've done what you can," he told her, without angry or impatience, which only served to bother her more.

Now he rode up front with Garek, Nialyne and Ciara behind them, the rest of the escort trailing them two abreast. To the unobservant Bolin rode as smooth and flawless as always. But Ciara could see the stiffness in him
. The tightness across his shoulders. Not to mention the fact Sandeen kept tossing his head, ears slanted back, and tail swishing.

Ciara glanced at Nialyne. The Galysian elder also had her focus on Bolin
, and looked about as happy as Sandeen. Deep furrows cut across her otherwise smooth brow, and her lips were pursed. The weight of Ciara's glance drew her attention and Nialyne looked over, her expression softening, though the shadow didn't leave her eyes.

"We shall have to arrange a tour of the city for you," Nialyne said. "It
is quite beautiful."

Ciara nodded but didn't reply. A tour of the city hadn't even entered her thoughts. Bolin occupied most of them, and Donovan, and the fact Andrakaos still hadn't stirred. That last bit caused her mixed emotions. How often had she wished he would remain silent? She could sense him. The chain of her earth magic still bound him to her. When she turned her focus inward and ventured to his chamber she saw him lying there, a great, hulking beast, curled in on himself like a dog sleeping before the fire.

Perhaps it was for the best. In his current state, maybe Donovan wouldn't realize they had entered Nisair. Maybe Donovan would no longer want her power if it had somehow changed.

He will always desire us.
The mental voice sounded unconcerned, surrounded by what felt like a yawn, but Andrakaos still hadn't moved.

What's wrong with you?
Ciara asked.

The shadowy bulk rose and fell in a deep sigh.
Wrong?

You're...I don't know. Not the same.

The same as what?

The same as before.

Nor are you.
His great head shifted, but didn't lift or turn her way.
We are bound now. We cannot be separated and still exist.

You mean we could have been? Before we healed Bolin?

Healed?
He rolled his head so Ciara could see one eye. A narrow sliver of glittering obsidian appeared between the lids. Nothing more.
We did not heal him. We stole him back from the hands of Darkness. It will not be forgotten.

Ciara's brow furrowed. Whenever Andrakaos referred to someone Ciara always got a sense of who he meant. She thought 'darkness' meant Donovan. Andrakaos had referred to him as such in the past. This time, however, the feeling projected with the word did not conjure images of Donovan. Instead, it brought a sensation of something vast and empty, yet alive with malicious intent.

What do you mean?
Ciara asked.
Who is the darkness?

Darkness is not who. Darkness is. As we are. As all things are. It hungers now for him more than ever it has, and it knows us as well.

The lids closed.

"Ciara?"

Her focus snapped back to find they were riding through a wide, short tunnel, their horses' hooves echoing across the curved ceiling. Nialyne fixed her with a hard stare.

"You were far away," she said.

"Sorry." The word came out thick, catching on the sudden dryness in Ciara's mouth.

She didn't have a chance to elaborate, though from Nialyne's look, the Galysian elder definitely wanted more of an answer. But the tunnel they were in spilled open into a wide, cobbled courtyard surrounded by buildings. As soon as they crossed to the far side everything dissolved into a flurry of activity. Stable boys dressed in simple, deep blue tunics, took their horses, and an older group of boys whose tunics bore the
Imperial crest shouldered their packs and gear.

Ciara watched Bolin swing stiffly from the saddle. He kept his right arm draped across Sandeen's back as though holding himself up. Garek turned his way and started to say something, but made a sudden grab for his elbow instead as Bolin wavered unsteadily. Ciara pushed her way forward, sliding between Bolin and Sandeen
, and wedging her shoulder up under his armpit to support him. He mumbled an objection, muttering something about being fine as she slid an arm around his waist.

"Of course you are," Garek said. "And I'm Skinny Skell the cleric."

"Four of him maybe," Bolin said.

"See there? N
ow I know you're feeling ill if you're cracking wise."

"I was being serious."

"Nice. Next time I'll let you fall on your face."

Bolin extracted himself from Garek's hold and withdrew his arm from over Ciara's shoulders, though she kept
a firm grip on his sword belt. He looked sidelong at her. "I can walk without help."

"No doubt," she said but didn't release him because just then she felt his balance shift back, and barely had time to call out to Garek before Bolin toppled over.

***

Ciara perched in a chair by the fireplace, chewing at a hang nail, her gaze flicking between Bolin and the amber robed old man tending to him. Thadeus, Nialyne had told her, the eldest of the
Imperial Mages. Ciara couldn't guess at his age. His close-cropped hair was white as winter snow, and his skin parchment-thin, but his green eyes were sharp as a hawk's. Ciara had fidgeted under his scrutiny until he turned his attention to Bolin, where it had stayed for a long enough time to become worrisome.

Nialyne had tried to get Ciara to go with her to get some rest, assuring her Bolin was in good hands. But she couldn't leave him. Not until she knew he would be all right. He hadn't moved since they'd carried him in. The uneven rise and fall of his chest, and the hard lines around his mouth wrapped cold fingers around Ciara's heart. Andrakaos had been so sure they'd brought him back, but they must have missed something. Or done something wrong. Unfortunately, since entering Nisair, Andrakaos had once again gone silent and unreachable.

A ragged gasp ripped from Bolin, and his body arched upwards. Ciara made it halfway to the bedside before she realized she had even moved. Thadeus held up a hand to stop her without looking up. His eyes were closed, his brow creasing and smoothing in turn. His lips moved as though forming words but no sound reached Ciara's ears.

"Ah," he said, at the same time Bolin exhaled and visibly relaxed into the pillows, the tension flowing from him. "There, now. I think that does it." Thadeus's eyes opened
, fixated on Ciara. "What you did here was no small feat. We shall have to discuss it at length."

"Is he going to be all right now?"

"As right as I can make him." Thadeus came around the bed and took Ciara by the arm, tugging her toward the door. "He needs sleep. And we, my child, need to talk."

"I'd rather--"

"I'm sure you would. At present, that is not an option. Come along, now."

Ciara found she couldn't fight the light grip on her elbow, though she truly wanted to remain with Bolin. Thadeus's insistence didn't frighten her, nor did he make her uncomfortable with his demand, which struck Ciara as odd. She generally didn't handle such treatment as well. Even from Bolin it rankled. But from Thadeus it felt
somehow natural.

He led her down a tiled hallway to a room that sent a shiver through her in its striking resemblance to the study in Donovan's fortress. Shelves lined the walls, stretching from floor to ceiling, cluttered with books and scrolls. A ladder on wheels rested at an angle against the far section. A fireplace dominated one wall, faced by several leather chairs. Oil lamps with glass chimneys bathed the room in enough light to chase the shadows from even the most remote corner. Their glow spilled across the polished table in the center of the room where Nialyne sat, and glinted off the ebony hair of the room's two other occupants like the sun off a raven's wings. Those two glanced up as Ciara and Thadeus entered, and identical pairs of cerulean eyes swept over her.

"Danya Nialyne you know, of course," Thadeus said as he ushered Ciara in, releasing his hold on her elbow, and closing the door behind them. "So allow me to introduce His Royal Majesty the Emperor, and his sister, the Lady Ariadne."

Ciara swallowed the lump in her throat, grateful for Nialyne's calming presence. She didn't know the proper way to greet an emperor, so she gave a simple nod in his direction and tried to keep her eyes averted. Except he made it impossible. Or rather, the power that swirled around him, shimmering like an opal, made it impossible. He rose from his seat and came to stand in front of Ciara. She hardly realized he had lifted her hand until his lips brushed the back of it. She could feel the rest of them watching her, as though waiting for something, but the room had faded to nothing, the Emperor's power all she could see.

"Do you mind?" he asked, and Ciara knew what he meant. He wanted to see Andrakaos.

"If I say I do?"

"Then I will not."

I do not mind.

And just like that they stood in the ethereal chamber where the hulking shape of Ciara's power resided. Andrakaos studied the Emperor, his head raised, his obsidian eyes reflecting the soft rainbow hues of the man's power. He lowered his muzzle, nostrils flaring as he sniffed.

You hold the Ancient.
He sounded impressed.

"That I do, young one," the Emperor said.

And he is ancient.

Ciara turned, for the first time realizing Thadeus had joined them. The mage chuckled. "Indeed I am. Ancient enough to know you, yes? Though your kind has long been sleeping and none have been seen for many ages of man."

None others exist.

Ciara's breath caught. Images of her mother and her aunt flashed behind her eye
s. Memories flooded thought her. The gentle caress of a caring hand against a tear-streaked cheek, or the firmness of a reprimand founded in love--things long gone and missed. She yearned for the open skies dotted with her brothers and sisters, with her friends, but nothing save emptiness surrounded her. Even when she called for them, they did not answer. She could no longer feel them as she had once when she slept. Since he had awoken her, she could no longer dream, and dreams were the only place to find those she had lost.

"Ciara?"

She blinked furiously, struggling to breathe past the tightness squeezing her chest as Nialyne replaced the Emperor in her vision. Ciara swiped a hand across her face, surprised to find her cheeks were wet. Nialyne said something over her shoulder that had the sound of a reprimand, but surely it couldn't have been aimed at the Emperor? Someone guided her to a chair, hands on her shoulders pressed her down into the seat. The Emperor's sister pushed a goblet into her hands and helped her raise it to her mouth. Ciara drank out of reflex, coughing at the strong, sharp liquor even as it cut through the fog surrounding her.

"--totally unnecessary." Nialyne's voice came to her. "She's exhausted. Already pushed to her limits. This should have waited for a more appropriate time."

"Danya--"