The Chosen - Stone Dance of the Chameleon 01 (84 page)

Carnelian fixed him with his eyes. 'Even one more day like this. Just one!' He could see the cracks appearing in Osidian's resistance. 'So we'd cause consternation. What of it? You'll have your whole reign to appease the Wise.'

Osidian was crumbling. Carnelian could see the boyish hope peeking through. 'We'd have to let them know
...
tell them something
...'

'We could leave my father a letter. In all this world he at least should understand.'

Osidian nodded slowly. 'He won't quickly forgive us for forcing him to stand alone against the Wise.'

'He bore thirteen years of exile for your father's sake. He's stood against your mother and won. He speaks for the Great. Are the Wise so terrible?'

Osidian looked at him with round eyes, as much as to
say, you have no idea. 'As you say, we'd have all my reign to make it up to him.' Then you'll come?'

Osidian smiled a crooked smile. 'How could I not?'

Carnelian gave a whoop and
threw himself on him. They wrestl
ed violendy until they fell onto the floor and rolled apart.

Osidian sat up panting, grinning. When Carnelian began to move towards him, he put up his hand. 'I submit. I submit.'

Carnelian embraced him. They leaned their heads together.

'Will you write the letter?' Osidian asked.

Their ears rubbed together as Carnelian gave a nod.

'I'll still have to return to my household, give them instructions.' He disentangled Carnelian's arms
gently
, stood up. They placed him back into his robe. 'Meet me before sunrise at the usual place.' They grinned at each other, they kissed and Osidian left.

Carnelian. slumped onto the bed. He gathered up the sheets and wrapped himself in them. Doubt surged in his stomach. He frowned, wondering if he was making a mistake.

Carnelian sat cross-legged, with the parchment on the low table in front of him a narrow rectangle in the lamplight. He drew the glyphs carefully with the pen as his father had taught him. Several times he stopped, angling the pen so that it would not drip ink onto the parchment, then looking off into the darkness. His lips moved as if he were speaking but he made no sound. He was trying to explain to his father how he felt. How could his father not understand? But if he did not, no matter. Carnelian knew with a deadly certainty that he would withstand his father's fury a hundred times if that was the payment demanded for this last day of freedom with Osidian.

Carnelian let Tain in when he scratched at the door. His brother stared at the nest of sheets, the table in the middle of the floor, and at Carnelian's white flaming weary happiness, his haunted look, the way he danced a
little
when he walked, the way he looked at him but saw another.

'Did I do right to let the Master in?'

Carnelian grabbed him, hugged him, kissed him. 'Never have you done so right.'

Tain smiled uncertainly. 'He gave you joy?'

'Joy, yes, and
...'
Carnelian stopped, his limbs seeming suddenly cast from
lead,'...
despair.'

Tain could not understand it at all. It seemed a kind of madness.

'Yes, it is a kind of madness,' Carnelian said, smiling sadly. 'Such consuming fire
...'

Tain brought him food, and cleaned him when he stood still long enough. He tried to chat and sometimes Carnelian seemed to listen, but then he would narrow his eyes and look away. Tain made a bed for himself upon the floor. When he turned off the lamp, he could almost feel Carnelian staring into the darkness.

Tain could not wake Carnelian. He shook him, a wail beginning to escape through his gape. Suddenly, Carnelian came alive, gulping as if Tain had just drawn him up drowning from the depths of a well. His arms locked around the boy, squeezing.

'Carnie! Carnie!' Tain cried as he struggled to free himself.

Carnelian kissed his neck with passion. Terrible, terrible, terrible,' he muttered.

Tain was scared. 'Carnie, Master, please let go.'

Carnelian opened his eyes impossibly wide. His arms lost all their strength and Tain fell out of them. Carnelian put his hands to his face. 'Sorry, I didn't
...
it was
...'
He sighed, shaking his head, backing away up the bed. 'A dream
...'
His mouth gaped, his eyebrows twitched.

Tain stared for moments, then, Today
...
we must get ready to leave today.'

Today,' echoed Carnelian. He remembered the letter. He stumbled off the bed and found it where he had left it. He stared at it, knowing he must tear it up. His mind saw his hands tearing it but instead they gave it to Tain. Carnelian turned to focus on Tain standing gripping the letter. It was already out of reach. He felt suddenly free, as if he had escaped from a court robe of stone.

He smiled at Tain. 'I'll not be coming with you.'

Tain frowned, looked nervously down at the letter in his hands and back up at Carnelian.

'I've been a little distraught, Tain. Don't worry about it. I'm going away but will join you in a day or two. Please, give that to the Master this evening. Don't give it to him earlier. If he asks tell him that I commanded you. Once he reads it, he'll understand.'

'But Carnie
...
where are you going?'

That doesn't matter. You'll do as I say?'

Tain looked miserable, but he gave a hard nod.

That's good. Now let's get me cleaned up a bit.'

As Carnelian said his farewells to Tain, he assured him that he would see him in the Labyrinth the next day, the day after at the latest. Then he left the chamber.

The corridor was a flurry of packing. Guardsmen dropped what they were doing to escort him but he sent them back to their work.

The Ichorians at the mouth of the tunnel into the Sun in Splendour were more difficult to persuade, but eventually they too gave way and opened the portcullises.

The air in the Sun in Splendour was rosy-hued. He crossed to the trapdoor and opened it. He lit his lantern and hesitated for a moment looking down into the darkness, then went quickly down. After the commotion above, the silence was eerie. Doubts came crowding in with the blackness. He stopped and could just hear faint sounds coming down the stair. He lifted the lantern to push back the gloom and reveal more steps below him. He imagined Osidian waiting for him at the moon-eyed door. The thought of him quickened his heart. He laughed at the darkness. Osidian was a bright beacon.

He walked through the midnight halls. Unusual brightness swelled ahead. His steps faltered. He shuttered the lantern. Soon it was bright enough for him to see his way without it. He listened for voices. He drew closer and looked into the great round chamber. Lamps had been hung all round its wall. The door to the library was gaping open. Arranged before it, like sarcophagi washed out by a flood, were rows and rows of chests. Hearing nothing, Carnelian crept into the light. He looked at one of the chests. It was long and narrow and had five rows of paired golden nipples on its top. Its side was studded with silver spirals. Nearer the floor, a long carrying pole passed through several rings of brass. He realized it was a beadcord bench closed for transport. The Wise were taking their library down with them to the Labyrinth. He heard footsteps and saw light swaying through the silver door. He looked round desperately, stomach churning. What if Osidian had not come?

'Carnelian.' His name strained from the gloom behind him. He looked wildly at the light shaking out through the moon-eyed door. He peered round into the dark. Something pale rushed out.

'Osid—' he began joyfully but his arm was yanked as he was dragged off into the shadows. A hand clapped across his mouth. He leant back into the warm body. He could feel Osidian's breath on his ear. He pushed back harder.

'Stop it,' was hissed in his ear but followed by a kiss. Carnelian watched as ammonites appeared with a chest hanging in the air between them. He could see their faces, disfigured with numbers. They negotiated several chests until they found a space in which to put their burden down. They filed back into the library. Carnelian turned in Osidian's grip and sank his weight into him. They kissed then moved apart. Osidian offered his hand and Carnelian took it. He let himself be led through a doorway. Deeper and deeper into the darkness they went undl Carnelian could see nothing and was stumbling. Osidian stopped and pulled him close. Carnelian felt Osidian's face with his lips. Osidian pushed him
gently
away,
chuckling. This is neither the ti
me nor the place.'

Carnelian tried again.

'I
'm serious,' Osidian said firmly.

Carnelian pulled back.

'Are you sure you still want to do this?'

'More than ever,' said Carnelian, burning with need. 'Will we have to wait until they've cleared the library?'

That'll take days.'

'What can—'

There's another way.' Osidian fumbled their hands together.

'Don't you think it's funny that the Gods-to-be should be creeping around in the blackness?'

'I
don't,' Osidian said through a smile. 'Now walk carefully, and by the blood, keep quiet.'

They felt their way through the darkness with their feet until they came through a door into the Windmoat. They walked along it towards the morning sky. The heart-stone screens on their left were dark. No sound came from behind them. The windows in the wall of the forbidden house were blind. They descended into the ravine. In its gullet they prepared themselves with the thick paint as they had done before although this time they helped put it on each other with much biting, mock anger, laughter.

Then it was out into the morning. From the east the crescent shadow of the Sacred Wall matched the curving Ydenrim. Between the two was a gleaming scythe of the Skymere. They turned their faces into the southern wind. Carnelian stared. The sky was brooding black. The Rains could not be more than a few days distant. They looked away, saying nothing, their joy subdued.

The descent was long and hard. There was time for nothing but the next foothold, the next weathered flight of steps. The sun rose higher and higher into the sky and scorched them. The crater was a seductive mirage, with its gleaming arcs of precious blues and greens.

When the sun slid behind the Pillar's gleaming head they were suspended between earth and sky. Above and below them the Pillar narrowed. Carnelian felt that they were flies crawling on the edge of a diamond. The screaming wind soon turned their relief to shivering. They wrapped themselves up as best they could but still they had to cling with numbing fingers to the rock. Down and down they climbed and the earth seemed never any closer. Only the shadow of the Pillar jutting out below and the increasing ache in their muscles told of the passing time.

By late afternoon they were among the rookeries of the sky-saurians. Carnelian had a notion to go and rest in the shrine but Osidian urged him on.

The shadow of the Pillar was already nosing its way across the Skymere when they reached the ground. They took a short rest, some water and a little hri cake, but Osidian drove them on. They scratched through the thorn forest to the wall of the Forbidden Garden. Sitting astride its stones they saw the shadow of the western Sacred Wall was already slicing through the heart of the Yden. The lagoons lay in its night.

They dropped into the garden and made their way as quickly as they could down through its terraces to the outer wall. As Osidian was opening a gate the shadow of the Sacred Wall was already coming up through the trees. In the orchard, twilight pulled over them like a blanket. Shadows grew rosy from the reflected fiery reds of the sky. Night had fallen before they reached the first lagoon.

They waited for the moon, each locked in the prison of his own thoughts. This was not how Carnelian had expected it to be. He looked sidelong at Osidian's face. It was too dark to see its expression. How could Osidian be thinking of anything other than his Apotheosis? He should even then have been at the heart of his household, being carried down in the midst of the pilgrimage of the Great.

Stars were dusting the mirror lagoons. Frogs were rasping. Mosquitoes were sewing the air with needle flight. This was the last night of his freedom. Carnelian was filled with a desperate longing, but Osidian was a tower invulnerable to assault.

'What're you thinking?' Carnelian asked.

The tower moved. 'Of many things.'

'Apotheosis?'

'Not just of that.'

'Would you have preferred to be now in the Labyrinth?'

The tower loomed close. Carnelian felt Osidian's arms encircling him, drawing him close. He rested his head in the angle between Osidian's neck and shoulder. Their clothes were masking the passion in their skins.

T would possess you,' Carnelian whispered.

'You do,' breathed Osidian on his neck.

They tightened the circles of their arms as if they wished to merge their flesh.

'Your bones are my bones,' breathed Carnelian.