Of the Abyss (16 page)

Deal with the mess he had made of his own life.

“As you wish,” Umber said. “Sleep well, Quin. Good luck.”

Hansa was already asleep, the star ruby ring curled in his palm.

 

CHAPTER 19

X
az had been exhausted enough to drift into a deep and dreamless sleep by the fire. The rest would have been more satisfying if she hadn't woken once again snuggled against a furry blue body. Her cheek lay against his chest, and his tail was hooked securely around her waist.

They had established with their “pet the Abyssi” conversation that she
did
like being near him, and his warmth was probably the only reason she had been able to rest as well as she had, but she knew just enough about his kind to know snuggling wasn't all he was likely to be interested in.

The instant she tried to ease out of his arms, his tail and arm tightened around her and his eyes flew open. She froze, afraid to even breathe with his claws noticeably pricking the soft skin of her side.

His tail twitched, fur tickling her spine at her lower back, just in that spot that always made her jump. Enclosed within Alizarin's arms the way she was, she couldn't go far, but ended up sneezing as fur tickled her nose. His claws probably would have shredded her skin if he hadn't retracted them just in time.

His tail moved again, eliciting the same reaction.

“Stop that,” she said.

“You say that a lot,” he replied.

“Because dealing with you is a lot like dealing with a three-­year-­old child,” she snapped.

She started to pull back, but though his grip loosened a little, he didn't let her go. Instead, he asked, “Really?
Just
like that?” He stretched to emphasize his point, making her blush. She remembered the way she had stared at Cinnabar after she had been injured, and only now realized that embarrassing fixation had been a result of the Abyssal power seeping into her. Love was of the Numen, but lust came from the Abyss.

“No,” she said, meaning two things: No, he wasn't like a child, and no, she didn't want to continue this line of conversation.

“No, what?” he purred.

Her instinct was to be subtle, to use euphemisms or avoid the conversation entirely, but she had to keep in mind what she was dealing with. She gathered her nerve and said bluntly, “I will
never
have sex with you. Is that clear?”

The words didn't seem to surprise or insult him. He asked almost innocently, “Why not?”

“Why . . .” She sputtered. “Because I know what you
are
. And you know what I am. I'm a Numenmancer. I'm not going to have sex with a creature of the Abyss. If you were anywhere near capable of rational thought, you would have figured that out by now. Now, please let me up.”

He didn't reply at all to the last words. Instead, he twitched his tail—­she jumped—­and said with a huff, “I'm perfectly capable of rational thought. Far better than you.”

“You haven't demonstrated it,” she grumbled.

Apparently he took the words as a challenge. “Point one.” Xaz did her best to relax, since he obviously wasn't going to let her up until he was bored with this conversation, as he had bored of the last one. Hopefully, trying to apply
logic,
a trait traditionally associated with the divine realm, would bore him very quickly. “You like to touch me. You like to be near me. You like the way I
feel
. You like the way I
look
. Point two: Your magic is also attracted to me because we have a bond, and mine is attracted to you. You are my tie to this plane. I am your tie to the power of the Abyss. Point three: You need as much power as you can get, especially now that the Numini have disowned you.”

“They haven't—­”

He hushed her with a finger to her lips.

“Point four: Sex is fun. That's just a generally accepted fact. It would make the Abyssi happy, and it would make you happy.

“Final point: The four coins of the Abyss are blood, pain, fire, and flesh. Sex raises power. You don't like blood, pain, or fire, and you
do
like the look and feel of the Abyssi, and you
do
need power, and you
would
enjoy this form of raising power. Taking all these points into your oh-­so-­logical Numenmancer brain, tell me how you can possibly come to a different conclusion.”

“You're a
demon
!” she shouted. “You have
fur.
And a
tail.
Oh, and
you eat ­people
!”

“You eat ducks,” he said, as if that were a logical argument.

“Yes, I eat duck.” Was she really having this argument? “That's because I'm not a duck. Also, I wouldn't have
sex
with a duck. Your argument sounds logical on the surface, but—­”

“Until you apply human irrationality and Numini interference,” he interrupted, tone haughty. “The divine realm is the only one responsible when you say no to something you obviously both want and need.”

“And the Abyssal realm is the one responsible when fifty-­year-­old men have affairs with sixteen-­year-­old girls. Let me up. This argument is over.”

Just when she began to fear he might refuse to accept “no,” his arms loosened and he released her. “Can I have a kitten?”

“No—­what?” Scrambling to her feet, it took her a moment to realize he had changed the subject. At least, she
hoped
he had changed the subject.

“I want a pet,” he said.

“Why?” she asked, warily.

“To play with,” he replied, brightening the instant her answer wasn't just, “No.” “And I'm hungry.”

“I'm not getting you a kitten to
eat
.”

He deflated again. “Puppy?”

“You are a foul creature,” she mumbled.

“I saved your life,” he reminded her. “And I haven't eaten in days.”

That made her stop. She had thought of the Abyssi she had summoned as a fiend and an annoyance, but the truth was, she
had
summoned him. If she had called one of the Numini into this plane, she would have fed it, but Numini couldn't eat flesh. It hadn't even occurred to her until then that one of the Abyssi might not be able to eat anything else.

So far, Alizarin had done exactly what she had asked of him. He had protected her and brought her somewhere safe so she could rest and recover her strength. He had helped her get warm clothing, and sustenance. He had brought her to the temple, and when the Quin guard had shown up, Alizarin had followed him in order to assess the threat he might pose. In return, Xaz had refused almost every request he had made, not just for entertainment but for
food.

She was a
Numenmancer.
She didn't know how to treat a denizen of the Abyss. What she did know was that, even if she didn't feel guilty for abusing a creature that thus far had treated her very well—­which she did—­it was not a good idea to make a demon she had no magical control over unhappy.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I never expected to spend so much time with one of your kind. I know the Numini are very particular with what they can and cannot eat. Can you tell me what works for you—­beyond kittens, I mean?”

“Numini are difficult,” Alizarin agreed. “Milk, honey, clear water, new fruit.” He listed with a swish of his tail some of the Numini's simplest food choices when on the human plane. “Abyssi are easy. Dirt isn't food. What comes from dirt isn't food. Everything hot is food. Once it's cold it's dirt again.”

“Does ‘hot' include things that are warmed by fire?” she asked.

Alizarin frowned. “Fire is good, but it doesn't turn dirt into food.”

“So hot means alive, or just-­dead. Nothing you could buy at a butcher's or order at a restaurant.”

He nodded. His expression looked pleased, but his tail was twitching in a way she had come to associate with his impatience.

“Without eating any
­people
, and doing your best not to eat anyone's beloved new pet, would you be able to find yourself enough to eat?”

He nodded again, the
swish
of his tail now more lively.

“Okay then. Why don't you go . . . do that.” And she would try not to think too much about it. “I'm going to go back to our room and try to get a little sleep. I'll meet you later.”

“Hunt well,” he bid her, before bounding off into the near-­dawn without waiting for her reply.

“You, too,” she sighed.

Once he was gone, the chill of the damp sea air and winter wind settled into her bones. She built up the fire, shivering all the while and wishing fiercely that she had a way to make the flame brighter. Most of her magic responded to will and words, but her invocations did nothing here. It occurred to her that a real Abyssumancer might use blood, but her nerve failed her despite the cold.

It wasn't just Alizarin who made the idea of turning into an Abyssumancer terrifying. Though she had personal experience to know the Quins' thoughts about most mancers were more scary stories and exaggeration than truth, she suspected much of what they said about Abyssumancers was true. The Abyss was a realm of impulse and need. Dark hungers drove its denizens and infected the mancers bound to them.

That all meant she couldn't trust an Abyssumancer to help her break her bond with Alizarin. Then who? Another Numenmancer couldn't help; they wouldn't be able to see the Abyssal magic even if their Numini would let them try. Xaz needed someone with more diverse talents. Outside myths, where impossibly-­powerful mancers could manipulate all four realms of existence—­the Abyss, the Numen, life and death—­she knew of only one creature who might have the skills she needed.

The spawn.

Spawn didn't rely on the Numini's or Abyssi's approval in order to work magic. Though they were most closely tied to the realm from which they had been born, they weren't blind to the opposite realm the way a mortal mancer was. Finally, since they were born with their power instead of having it unnaturally thrust upon them like a mancer, they learned to use it instinctively. They were supposed to be capable of incredible feats.

Xaz had never met one—­or hoped to do so—­because they usually utilized those incredible abilities to hide from her kind. Spawn seeped Other energy, which meant an unscrupulous mancer who could catch one could use it as an unending fount of power. She had heard of one, though, from Alizarin—­he said a spawn had helped Hansa escape Quin clutches a free man. If the spawn had really granted Hansa a second boon, he would have to keep him in sight no matter what Hansa was now. If Hansa was in danger—­say if a mancer with a grudge approached him—­the spawn would come running.

Now that she'd had time to consider his change in status, Xaz had a word or two she wanted to exchange with the hero of Mars anyway.

 

CHAPTER 20

C
admia wiped snow from her eyes, then checked her notes again. Other Sisters and Brothers of Napthol had gone by horseback to try to make the next-­of-­kin calls in the countryside for the deceased soldiers, but she had agreed to do the local ones. The house listed as the home address of Soldier Rosso's sister was one she remembered from her childhood as a flophouse frequented by the poorer members of the Order of A'hknet.

White flurries had started to fall a little after dawn and grown steadily heavier since, and the snow had caused an instant change in the temperament of the docks. Children bundled up in heavy winter cloaks passed through the crowd, running back and forth to deliver mugs of hot drinks and still-­warm pastries from the taverns to anyone with a penny to spare. The wharf market had mostly closed down, as the women who usually sat out with their nets, ropes, and weaving moved inside so they could work without their fingers going numb. Fishermen shook their heads, packing new snow around the morning's catch even though they knew few ­people would come shop.

“Looks like an early winter,” observed a man loitering in front of the house. She chose to ignore the bag he carried, which she had seen him hurriedly slip something into the moment he saw her violet robes.

“This might just be an early freeze,” she said practically, letting him know she intended to keep the conversation casual and not harass him about whatever contraband he had just hidden. “I'm looking for Fawn Rosso. Is she around?”

The man shook his head. “Not a freeze, real winter. This snow will be here until spring. I'll bet you a week's earning.”

“I never bet with a man who sounds that sure,” Cadmia said. In fact, she never bet; the Napthol Order discouraged it. “Fawn isn't in any trouble. Her brother was one of the victims of—­”

“Shame,” the man interrupted, continuing to ignore her request. It was hard to tell if he was stalling for time, probably while someone inside cleared away evidence of illegal activity, or just giving her a hard time because she was from the Napthol Order. “I was hoping I could use that extra pay to take my daughter somewhere special.”

“Sorry to disappoint her. I'm going inside.”

He waited until her hand touched the doorknob to ask, “Aren't you Scarlet's girl?”

“I'm—­”

“Sister!” She spun toward the frantic voice to find a young Tamari girl in sailor's garb, probably a cabin girl, slipping and sliding across the street toward her. “Sister, can you come?”

The man by the door tensed. No matter how much he wanted to harass Cadmia, he was clearly torn on whether he wanted to warn her about getting onto a Tamari ship.

“Captain saw your—­” She gestured to her clothes breathlessly. “Told me to get you. It's an emergency.”

Cadmia reminded herself that she wasn't a child in the Order of A'hknet anymore. Even a would-­be slaver had to know that trying to kidnap a Sister of the Napthol would be more trouble than it was worth.

“Where's your ship?”

The cabin girl turned and dashed to lead the way. Cadmia followed as quickly as she could without falling, barely breaking her stride when she hit a slick patch of ice on the boarding ramp and had to grab the rail to keep from falling into the icy waters.

“She said she wanted passage wherever we were going,” the captain said quickly, guiding Cadmia toward the bow of the ship. “I told her we don't carry passengers. That's when she climbed up. My first mate's been trying to talk her into coming back down, but then I saw you—­that's what you ­people do, right?”

By the time Cadmia reached the bow of the boat, the first mate had just grabbed the woman's arm to pull her back away from the rail and stand her safely on the deck, but it didn't look like the crisis was over. The woman shoved the mate away, and though she didn't climb the rail again, she pressed her back against it.

Cadmia bit back a curse as she recognized Ruby's tear-­streaked face and remembered their last conversation. She must have confronted Hansa. What had he said to her?

“Ruby, Ruby, can you hear me?” Cadmia asked, trying to get the woman to look at her.

Ruby nodded, slowly, though her eyes never quite came into focus. Her gloveless hands continued to grip the railing, her slender fingers nearly blue from the cold.

She wasn't wearing her ring.

“Did something happen?” Cadmia asked. “Did you and Hansa argue?”

Ruby shook her head. “Winsor Indathrone pardoned him,” she said in a dazed voice.

“Yes, he did.”

Again, Ruby shook her head. “But he—­” She sniffed. “But he's guilty.”

Cadmia felt a new chill, unrelated to the weather. “Can we talk somewhere private, Ruby?” she asked. She was less worried about privacy than she was about wanting to get the woman out of the freezing weather and away from the rail.

Ruby just glared. “Indathrone pardoned him. A Sister of Napthol condemned him. I saw the blood . . . and then . . . he wouldn't even make love to me,” she finished in a very small voice.

Cadmia blinked, confused by the change of subject. “Excuse me?”

“He wouldn't make love to me,” she said. “All the times I threw myself at him and he said no, that we needed to wait, it was so
frustrating.
He was so damn
Quin.
And I know why now. Why does it hurt more knowing that? He might be a
sorcerer
, but I can barely even think of that. But I find him with . . .” She trailed off.

“He's not sleeping with Umber,” Cadmia blurted out before she could think better of it. Why hadn't she
thought
? Her only excuse was that Hansa had said he didn't intend to have anything to do with Umber after rescuing Pearl. It never occurred to her the spawn might be there when she encouraged Ruby to talk to her fiancée.

“Even you know about it?” Ruby gasped.

“I think this is a conversation for just you girls,” the first mate murmured, distancing himself a little.

“I know he isn't,” Cadmia asserted. “I . . . Umber and Hansa were helping me find someone. If you saw something—­”

“I saw something,” Ruby spat. “I saw them together. Saw even the knife.”

The second change of subject made Cadmia wince. It would probably be better for everyone if Ruby just thought Hansa was attracted to men—­what the Quin considered “sexually deviant.” That charge could result in his losing his position in the 126, but it wouldn't get him executed. “Excuse me . . . knife?”

“Sister, tell me he's innocent,” Ruby challenged. “Tell me I did not see my fiancé in the arms of another man, both wine and blood on his lips. Tell me I didn't see him nearly dead one moment, and then find him perfectly healed only hours later. Tell me Winsor Indathrone himself wasn't fooled by some mancer trick. Tell me . . . tell me that everything I believe isn't a lie.”

“I—­” Cadmia knew she should lie, but Ruby's words highlighted all her own doubts and fears. She saw the cost of her hesitation as Ruby's desperation hardened to peaceful resolve. “Ruby, come away from the rail.”

“Sister?” Ruby said, her voice sweetly inquiring.

“Yes?”

“You . . . you and all the holy orders . . .” Ruby leaned close and continued in a whisper. “You're all full of shit.”

Without warning, she shoved Cadmia, sending her sprawling. The first mate cried out, but his first instinct was to try to catch Cadmia, so he wasn't fast enough to stop Ruby as she turned, boosting herself onto the ship's rail—­and over. The quiet splash was barely audible over the general bustle of the docks.

Shouts rang out and several sailors ran toward the railing.

“Merciful Khet,” the first mate whispered. Despite the frigid weather, he and two others started to pull off their boots and drop heavy jackets to the deck in a frantic rush. Cadmia stared down at the dark water, but didn't see Ruby resurface.

“Lydie, get off the ship, bring back blankets, hot rum,” the captain ordered his cabin girl, who jumped to obey. “Grent, Taylor, help her.”

Everyone moved as if there was a chance, but as precious seconds ticked by, Cadmia knew it was going to take more than hot rum and blankets to fix this. They would be for the valiant rescuers who were only now easing themselves into the water—­carefully, because diving headfirst into the mess of lines, chains, nets, and weeds that filled the harbor was a recipe for . . .

Well, for suicide.

My fault. I knew she was hotheaded and impulsive. I knew she had just lost a lifelong best friend. I sent her to Hansa—­

No! She couldn't think that way. Yes, Ruby had been upset. Cadmia had sent her to talk to the man she still loved, with whom she should have been able to share her grief and express her fears. Instead, Ruby believed she had found proof not only that her intended was disloyal, not only that he was involved with a man in conflict with all Quin dictates, and not only that he was involved with sorcery, but that somehow he had fooled everyone, including the most powerful man in Kavet.

If you thought you had been wrong about all of that, how could you possibly trust
anything
you believed to be true?

Cadmia stepped back from the rail, so the deck blocked the rescue efforts from her view. No one was paying any attention to her when she turned and ran back toward the city—­toward Hansa Viridian's house.

She didn't know what Hansa had gotten involved in, but if he had power, maybe it would be enough to save the woman who had loved him. After, Cadmia would make him talk to her and she would decide if he needed to be reported to the Quin.

If you really thought he was guilty, you wouldn't risk talking to him
.
What are you hoping to learn?

First she needed to see if Hansa could save Ruby. Then she could decide what to do about her own faith.