Of the Abyss (20 page)

The lizard-­Abyssi didn't stay to argue with the threat in Alizarin's voice, but turned and fled across the black dunes of sand in the direction from which it had come.

“I think I probably speak for the group,” Hansa said, his throat so tight with tension that his voice came out a soft rasp, “when I say we should finish what we came here to do and then leave as quickly as possible.”

“Is this Antioch likely to be a problem for you?” Umber asked.

“Did
you kill his mancer?” Xaz sounded like she was taking that more personally than the threat to the rest of their safety.

“I didn't kill him,” Alizarin huffed, responding only to Xaz. “Hansa did.”

“Excuse me?” Hansa chirped.

“I'm not the one who made him throw the knife away when you arrested him,” Alizarin told Hansa, sounding irritated that his role in Antioch's mancer's death was being questioned, and obviously missing the fact that the Quin guard looked terrified as he suddenly realized how many enemies he might have in this place.

The scene came clear to Cadmia.

“Baryte,” she said, recalling the name of the Abyssumancer who had asked for her counsel, as well as the stink of burning flesh as he held his hand over the candle, and the abrupt horror of his death. “Antioch was his Abyssi? Is he the black Abyssi Baryte mentioned?” All the puzzle pieces tumbled over and over in her mind, trying to find a pattern that made sense. “Did
he
somehow call us here?”

“I think we should leave here
quickly,”
Hansa said. Then he winced, as if struck by a sudden pain. “As soon as we've done what we need to do.”

He started to lean against Umber, flinched away, and then immediately repeated the action. Umber gave him an opaque look and shook his head, not acknowledging the touch or the comment.

Was he trying to be discreet? Cadmia hadn't thought that Hansa and Umber were lovers, but Hansa's motions had the look of a man trying to resist old habits.

Cadmia drew a deep breath, trying to find the best way to articulate the certainty that had been growing in her since they had stepped into the Abyss.

“We're looking for a shade,” she said haltingly, “to help us find a necromancer back in Kavet so you can resurrect a woman whose life is so dear to you, Hansa . . . that we all left her unguarded in a public inn.” Since the others didn't seem inclined to clarify why this made sense or argue with her, she continued. “We all seem to have taken extreme measures to accomplish something I'm not sure any of us would ever desire. Unless you really think Ruby would want you to do this, Hansa?”

The guard shook his head fractionally, horror and bewilderment warring in his eyes as he considered his own irrational actions.

Cadmia remembered the old warnings:
An impulse you can't explain is the Others whispering in your ears.
This time, the Others had done more than whisper, and the result was more than an impulsive walk down to the docks to visit old faces.

But were they done yet? Or were they just now starting to speak?

 

CHAPTER 24

T
he last thing Xaz wanted was to focus the others' suspicions on her, but she didn't seem to have a choice. Cadmia was too obviously right; they hadn't done this of their own free will.

“I saw Numen power all around the docks and Ruby's body,” she admitted. When the others just looked at her, waiting for further explanation, she shut her eyes to block out their stares and continued. “Ruby was impulsive,” she said, remembering the woman who—­in another world—­might have been her friend. “She had a temper. She wasn't the kind of person who would normally have run off and hurt herself, but a Numenmancer could have convinced her to jump, and then nudged Hansa and Cadmia into reacting the way they did.”

“That's crazy,” Cadmia objected. “Why would a Numenmancer go to that kind of trouble?”

Xaz snickered. “You two can't imagine why a mancer would think it's funny to trick you into crawling into the Abyss? It wasn't
me
,” she added sharply. “If it were, I wouldn't be with you.”

Cadmia's face suddenly went stone serious. She turned to Umber. “What about you? Could a Numenmancer have manipulated you? Or Alizarin?”

Umber shook his head. “Abyssi—­though beautiful and powerful, Alizarin, so do not take my words badly—­are not known for their forethought or careful analysis when unbridled impulse is an option. As for me, I owed Hansa a boon. That bond isn't something that can be argued with.”

“How much power
would
it take to influence you?” Cadmia pushed.

Umber tensed, and Xaz sensed a defensive reply on the way. He clearly changed his mind at the last moment and said instead, “An Abyssumancer could have forced me to act, but not subtly. Even the most powerful Abyssumancer in Kavet couldn't have tricked me into stepping into the Abyss without my sensing it.”

Xaz saw where Cadmia was going with her logic, but hoped there was another explanation. She would far prefer a garden-­variety mancer had put them into this position.

“Why did you save Hansa's life?” Cadmia asked the spawn.

Umber ignored Hansa's squawked protest. “He had been tainted by the Abyssi who injured him. If he survived, that taint could have turned him into a mancer. I didn't want to risk it. I told him—­”

“Yes, yes, you told him that,” Cadmia said brusquely. “I didn't believe it then and I don't believe it now. You could have killed him. Instead you granted him a boon.
Why?
”

Umber tensed his jaw, and didn't answer.

“Could an Abyssi have done it?” Cadmia asked, looking at Alizarin. “Baryte talked about a black Abyssi. Is that Antioch?”

Alizarin considered, and said, “Abyssi come in many colors. Antioch is ashy.”

“Might Baryte have described him as black?” she pressed. Alizarin gave a half shrug, half nod, as if it wasn't the description he would use but he could see why someone might. “Could he have done this? Baryte said he had a plan.”

“This is a very intricate plan for an Abyssi,” Umber suggested.

“Is it?” Cadmia asked Alizarin.

“For most of us,” he answered. Xaz couldn't tell if he was intentionally being evasive, or was just too distracted to give the matter much thought. He was pacing a slow circle around their group, face lifted as if scenting the wind.

“I think we're looking at the wrong plane for our explanation,” Xaz admitted. “Abyssi might not be able to plot, but Numini can.”

The Sister of the Napthol frowned, an expression of scholarly analysis rather than confusion or concern. “I was always told the Others can manipulate humans in little ways, but can't push them into anything that violates their basic natures and values. Forgive me, Hansa, but traversing the Abyss and practicing necromancy and raising the dead is
not
something I would ever . . .” She trailed off, gulping a little, as she considered that she
had,
if ever so briefly. “And you say Ruby wouldn't have killed herself. Can the Numini force a person to do something so opposite all reason?”

Xaz wished she could just say
yes,
because honesty meant admitting how much of this blame probably fell on her shoulders. Unfortunately, whether or not her reason for coming to the Abyss made any more sense than anyone else's, she couldn't afford to sabotage her only allies here. That meant telling the truth.

“As for you, Cadmia, perhaps it's true that you allow the Numini in when you study them and pray for their guidance. They could have reached Hansa when he went to the mancers' temple to rescue Pearl.” She was
not
about to tell anyone that she, too, had attempted to take the girl.

“And Ruby?” Cadmia prompted.

She had hoped she could avoid answering that one. “A few days ago, I was in a hurry and Ruby insisted on stopping me to talk. I used my power on her. It could have given the Numini a way in if they wanted to manipulate her.”

She kept her eyes on Hansa as she spoke, and saw the way he gritted his teeth and his hand flexed into a fist, like he might take a swing at her. He had every right to be furious, not just for Ruby's death but for the other guards'. She hoped he could control himself long enough for them to work this out.

“But
why
?” Cadmia asked, either oblivious to the tense moment or deliberately trying to move past it. “What possible use are we to the Numini in the Abyss?”

Umber squeezed Hansa's shoulder, a simple move that made Hansa's whole body relax. His attention left Xaz completely, all hints of his justifiable rage snuffing like a candle flame.

Umber declared, “I don't personally care what the Numini want with us. I plan to accomplish our task, asinine as it is, and then get back to the human realm as soon as—­” He broke off, then settled his gaze on Alizarin. “You brought us here, but you can't bring us back, can you?”

The Abyssi looked back at the spawn with amusement. After a moment he said, in tones that suggested the fact was blatantly obvious, “If Abyssi could open rifts to the human plane at will, there would be more of us there.”

“Xaz?” Cadmia prompted. “You're a mancer.”

“I'm a
Numenmancer
,” Xaz spat, only realizing the full scope of their predicament now that Umber had pointed it out. “I have no control over the Abyss.”

“We're after shades first anyway,” Hansa said hollowly.

Xaz almost snapped at him, pointing out that they had bigger concerns and he needed to catch up, and then she remembered Hansa leaning forward to take blood from Umber. It didn't matter what had manipulated the two men into coming here. Hansa had sealed the third boon. The magic would drive him and Umber to fulfill the task for which it had been raised, regardless of their wishes.

“Can we talk to the Numini?” Cadmia asked, looking at Xaz expectantly. “Ask what they want with us? If the Numini manipulated us once, they're likely to do it again,” she added, when it looked like Hansa and Umber might argue. “You two are more likely to succeed if you don't unexpectedly encounter divine interference.”

She had a good point—­and damn her for it. Did Cadmia realize what she was asking? Yes, Cadmia had come up with the plan that sent them here, and Hansa had taken three boons of an Abyss-­spawn, but every instinct Xaz possessed still told her it was nigh suicidal to allow a Sister of the Napthol and a soldier of the 126 to see her speak to the Numini.

“I'll try,” she sighed, “but I can't promise they'll speak to me. They've refused recently.”

“What do you need us to do to help?” Cadmia asked.

Go away.
“Give me space. As much as you can.”

As the others backed away, following Alizarin's directions, Xaz sat cross-­legged on the debris-­strewn ground and cast out her awareness.

Before her questing power reached anywhere near the Numini, it brushed across scores of Abyssi. She could feel them, including the dense gathering that must be the court. As her awareness brushed each one, she had a momentary sense of what it was doing—­hunting, stalking, grooming, sleeping, playing, coupling. Abyssi “play” was brutal.

Focus, Xaz,
she chided herself.

“Beings of the Numen,”
she whispered. In the Numen, names and words had power. Unlike Alizarin, the Numini who had given Xaz her mancer's power had never shared his name with her. “
I, Dioxazine, your chosen child, call to you. I petition you. I implore you.
”
A proper invocation was always threefold. Xaz had spent much of her childhood looking for synonyms for “beg” and “grovel.”
“Please grant me your attention, speak to me, advise me.”

She sent up the call, supporting it with as much power as she could muster.

She waited, unmoving, trying not to listen to the distant sounds of scraping, screaming, and howling. The Numini would expect her to be a vessel ready for their regard.

An interminable time seemed to pass before the first awareness of another being trickled into her mind, along with a seeping cold that made the Abyssal wind seem balmy.

I am here.

She sighed in relief at the familiar voice. Her patron.
“I am grateful for your attention.”
How those words grated on her! If one of the Numini had sent them here, it was probably him. She spoke the courtesy by rote, though, because he would disappear again if he felt she had been rude.
“May I assume you know our situation?”

I am aware,
he said.
I have a task for you.

She had to swallow back her fury like bile rising from her gut. A task.
“You did send us here, then?”

I was involved,
he admitted.
I regret my methods had to be so crude and convoluted.
The Numini spoke about regret, but Xaz didn't think he actually felt it.
There were complications that held me from acting more directly.

Those complications had sent her to the Abyss, and had apparently killed at least one person—­more if the guards Alizarin had killed were included. She gritted her teeth, and struggled to keep her mental voice calm.
“Is it your wish that we find the guards' shades?”

There was a long hesitation, as if the Numini wrestled with how much she needed to know.
The shades are inconsequential. If the Abyssi who slew them is willing to give them up, and you are strong enough to transport them across the veil, we will take them. They died righ­teously even though they died in violence. Your task is to return someone far more precious to us.

“Who?
”

Again that pause, during which she had to struggle to contain her impatience.
The Abyssi hold a sorcerer named Terre Verte imprisoned in their royal court. We need him retrieved.

“Why?”

The chill filling her deepened.
That is most certainly not your concern.

She didn't know much about the Abyss, but she had no desire to go closer to the gathering of Abyssi her power had allowed her to glimpse.
“Are the Abyssi the ones who caused your ‘complications'?”
she asked.
“If they were able to interfere with you, how do you expect me to do better? And how will I convince the others to help me? Hansa and Umber need to fulfill the terms of the boon.
”

They will help you,
he informed her,
because you will tell them that Terre Verte is their only hope of fulfilling the boon. The woman's body will be cremated within the hour. A necromancer cannot revive her, but Terre Verte can. As long as they have an option that will allow them to fulfill the boon, they
must
take it.

“That's cruel,”
she accused, unthinking.

I have given you your task,
he declared, with a spike of chastising power that made her flinch.
It is up to you to obey, not to judge. Now return to your
Abyssi master
, and tell your companions what must be done.

The Numini's tone was bitter and disappointed as he referred to Alizarin.

Then he was gone. She gasped and opened her eyes, shivering convulsively.

Stupid, demanding, arrogant bastard!

How she wished she could say those words to his face.

The others had withdrawn several yards, but came toward her expectantly when they saw her move.

“Anything?” Hansa asked.

Xaz cleared her throat of the fury that had tightened it. “What happens,” she asked, “if you cannot fulfill the boon? The Quin will cremate the body the instant sighted guards see Numen and Abyssal power in that room. Can a necromancer still resurrect her then?”

Umber looked at her speculatively. He answered, “If it cannot be done, then once we are absolutely certain of that, the boon will be fulfilled. Speaking for myself, I have never met a necromancer, and cannot say for sure the limits of one's power without asking.”

I won't tell them,
Xaz decided, with a giddy blend of terror and exultation.

If the Numini could have spoken directly to the spawn and the guard, they wouldn't have bothered to go through Xaz. As long as Xaz didn't tell them about Terre Verte, they wouldn't have to go after him. They could complete their original mission—­speak to the shades and try to find a necromancer—­and then find a way back to the mortal realm.

“The Numini told me only that they would accept the souls of the dead guards if we have the power to bring them across,” she said, hoping that even if Umber or the others realized she was lying, they would have the sense not to question her further. “If they have other plans for us, they do not deign to tell them to a mere mortal like myself.” To explain her obvious irritation and how long the conversation had been, she added, “They do not like having their Numenmancer question them.”