Of the Abyss (27 page)

“And the higher Abyssi?” Umber asked. He leaned forward, one arm on the table, now listening intently. “They'll still be able to see us, won't they?”

“Through the second level, the spawn are respected and allowed to own property,” Naples said. “So you could claim Hansa, Cadmia, and Dioxazine. Below that . . . on the third level, it may be assumed that we are there due to our connection to Alizarin, at least long enough for us to get through. Beyond that, Dioxazine can keep us clear.”

“Even if it's remotely
possible
, it's still insane,” Hansa said. “You can't really expect us to—­” He broke off, breath hitching with a grunt. Umber set his teeth. Trying to refuse must have caused the magic of the boon to show its teeth.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you demanded the third boon,” Naples purred. “As it is, I don't see that you have any choice.”

“You say the Abyssi offered to make Terre Verte one of them?” Xaz asked. What kind of man
was
this, that the Abyssi wanted to enthrone and the Numini wanted to liberate?

“Well, I wasn't there personally,” Naples said sardonically, “but the stories say the king of the Abyss offered to make him a prince.”

“Do you know anything for
certain
?” She was desperate to have some say in her own fate, and that meant she at least wanted to know why they were being sent on this impossible mission.

“I know for certain that there is a cell at the lowest level of the Abyss,” Naples said. “I can scry that deep. I cannot see into the cell because it is designed to keep something or someone of great power contained, and my magic isn't strong enough to penetrate its walls. But based on everything I've heard over the years, I believe there is a man inside who can help us all.”

Give up,
she told herself. The Numini would get what they wanted. They always did. Her task, as it ever had been, was only to nod her head and obey.

“I'll need to consult with the Numini,” Xaz said. This was what they wanted, but perhaps they didn't realize exactly where Terre Verte was, and what rescuing him would require. Naples spoke confidently, but Xaz knew her power had never been particularly strong.

“We'll take a break, then,” Naples suggested. “We all need . . .” His gaze rested on Hansa and Umber for a moment with enough heat that Xaz took a deep breath, fighting not to blush. “Rest,” he concluded, the word clearly standing in for what he assumed they would actually be doing. “I'll speak to Azo when she returns, and we will make further plans in the morning.”

 

CHAPTER 31

N
aples had the pretty face and earnest eyes of the best mongers in Kavet, which meant Cadmia didn't plan to trust anything he said. Thankfully, she had another expert on the Abyss to consult. If Naples knew of Terre Verte through Abyssal rumors, Alizarin probably did as well. Why hadn't he said anything?

After they separated to rest for their intended adventure, Cadmia asked the household servants if they would let Alizarin know she was looking for him when he returned. Obligingly, Alizarin came to her less than an hour later. His disquieting pallor had gone, and his aquamarine fur once again gleamed impeccably and felt like the finest silk when he brushed against her side in a catlike greeting.

Seeing him happy and well released the knot of tension that had appeared between her shoulder blades the moment Naples separated them upon arrival. Seeing the others unharmed had helped a little, but she felt much better with the blue Abyssi near. For a minute she just leaned against him, letting his warmth soak into her before she jumped into the topic of Terre Verte.

“Naples knows about Terre Verte, and thinks he can help us get to him,” she explained eventually, only reluctantly pulling away to have the conversation. “He says he's heard Abyssi talk about him?”

The words were half statement, and half question, intended not to be accusatory.

Alizarin nodded.

“You didn't say anything.”

His ears and tail drooped, signs she had learned meant hurt and disappointment. “You didn't ask.”

Of course.
She thought about the conversation when the rest of them had discussed Terre Verte and their plans, when Alizarin had eventually suggested they come to Naples. She had asked Alizarin questions about strength and whether they could
get to
the court, and he had answered the questions she had posed aloud. It had never occurred to ask about Terre Verte because she had associated the sorcerer with the Numini.

Cadmia didn't have as much experience with Abyssi as Xaz or Umber did. Why hadn't one of them realized Alizarin probably had useful information?

Because they
do
have experience with them,
she realized.
They don't expect Alizarin to be thoughtful.

“Do you like it when I ask you questions?” Except for personal questions about his nature, he had responded cheerfully to all her inquiries, though they ranged from the nature of the five levels of the Abyss to the way he had cleverly adapted human-­made pants to fit over his tail.

He smiled—­a radiant, utterly honest expression that made her heart give an inappropriate lurch in her chest. “It's fun to know answers,” he said.

Their conversation was interrupted by Naples stepping through the bedroom door.

He paused in the doorway, as if hesitant about his welcome. “I wanted to make sure you know I don't expect you to go with us tomorrow,” he said to Alizarin, making no indication he had even noticed Cadmia's presence. “You've talked about wanting a Numenmancer for a long time, and I know the risk you've taken by bringing her to me now that you finally have one. I would never ask you to directly cross the low court.”

Cadmia tensed at the implication that Alizarin was the one who had brought them here, but the Abyssi tilted his head, appearing confused. “You never told me you wanted Terre Verte,” he replied. “Why would I bring you a Numenmancer I didn't know you needed?”

“You . . .” Naples frowned. “I assumed . . . You worked so hard to get a tie to the mortal realm. Why else would you bring her to the Abyss?”

Abyssi can't lie,
Cadmia thought. How would Naples react when he learned the Numini had manipulated them all into coming here?

But Alizarin didn't answer that question. Instead, he said, “I'll go with you after Terre Verte.”

“You—­” Naples broke off, as if startled Alizarin had returned to the earlier part of the conversation. “Do you know what happened to the
last
Abyssi who meddled with this man?”

“The previous king of the low court wanted to make him one of us. Terre Verte said no, and the other Abyssi slew the king.”

“That . . . seems extreme,” Cadmia interjected. “Just because he said no?”

“The king murdered many Abyssi to work the magic,” Alizarin answered. “Others were angry. They brought him to the crystal caves and sacrificed him where his blood would seed the crystals and make more Abyssi. It's how I was born.”

“Hm. Well, if you're willing to risk it, we can talk about it—­” Naples broke off. He shifted his eyes to look at Cadmia, and the warm, open expression on his face, so different from the desperate awe he wore when looking at Azo or the desperate hunger when he saw Umber and Hansa, abruptly disappeared. He finished his sentence “—­later. Are you sleeping here?”

Alizarin nodded. He added, “You need to speak to Azo about your plans. She should return soon.”

Naples let out a long, slow breath and nodded. “You're right.” He looked around the small room apologetically and said, “If I had realized, I would have set you up in the good guest room. Alizarin, you know where to find me if you need me. Good night.”

Why
hadn't
Alizarin been given the good guest room? Had Naples expected Alizarin to sleep with the court, or somewhere out in the Abyss?

She had barely finished the thought before she realized how stupid it was. Everything Naples had said so far implied he had expected Alizarin to stay with
him.
Clearly they had a close relationship—­which had involved many long conversations about Numenmancers.

“Did you bond to Xaz intentionally?” she asked.

She had assumed—­and thought the others did as well—­that Alizarin's bond to Xaz had been accidental, another consequence of the strange circumstances of Baryte's arrest and the Numini manipulating them. Naples apparently thought differently.

“Not Xaz specifically,” Alizarin answered. “Baryte was supposed to talk to a Numenmancer for me. Antioch pushed him too hard and the Quin found him. Then he died.”

“And he just
happened
to throw the knife at a Numenmancer? That didn't seem odd to you?”

Alizarin had the grace to look puzzled. He sat on the bed and leaned his head on his hand, tapping his tail on his knee as he thought. “I don't know why he did that.”

“Could the Numini have made him do it?” She was willing to believe the Numini could manipulate her and Hansa that easily, but wouldn't an Abyssi or an Abyssumancer be protected from their whisperings?

Alizarin shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Could Naples?”

“Probably.”

“If he knew you wanted a bond to a Numenmancer and he needed a Numenmancer for his own plan, would Naples have been willing to sacrifice another Abyssumancer to achieve that end?”

“He thought I did it,” Alizarin pointed out.

“He
said
so. Humans can lie.” Antioch had targeted Alizarin because he considered him responsible for his mancer's death. She could understand why Naples would want to hide his own involvement.

Alizarin just shrugged.

Cadmia resolved to bring the question up again when the others were around to help her consider it, but accepted that the mystery wouldn't be solved that night. It was time for sleep.

The bed in the guest room was warmer than the Abyss and softer than stone and sand, removing all the excuses for why she had slept curled against Alizarin the night before, but he had clearly assumed she would want him to stay. She couldn't find it in her to be affronted by that; she wanted him to stay, too.

Years ago, she had turned her back on the Order of A'hknet and become a Sister of the Napthol. She had needed to reevaluate every bias and instinct she had, relearn everything from table manners to social norms, and give up vices she had never considered as such. As she climbed into bed, she realized she was on the cusp of doing something similar now.

Except this change was
madness.
The Order of the Napthol was respected. Valued. If she started to sympathize with ­people like Dioxazine and Umber . . . and Alizarin . . . but she didn't even have power. ­People in this place treated her like what she was: a foolish human woman who had jumped in deep water without knowing how to swim.

Alizarin stretched out next to her and used his tail to tuck her snugly against his chest just as he had the previous night, but this time she found it difficult to relax. Closing her eyes to try to sleep only made it worse. Without the coarse sand and biting wind to distract her, she was hyperaware of him, of how good it felt to have his arm across her waist and feel the firm planes of muscle under the impossibly soft fur that covered his chest. Her outdoor dress and cloak had also been a thicker barrier between them than the comfortable but lightweight shirt and pants she now wore.

“Alizarin?” she asked, opening her eyes.

“Yes?” His face was startlingly close to hers.

“Please don't take this as an insult, but . . . are you a man, or an animal?”

He blinked, not offended, but confused. “I'm Abyssi.”

She should have expected that patiently obvious response, because Alizarin clearly wasn't either.

“I just mean . . .” She struggled for a way to ask the question, trying not to blush, and embarrassed to consider how she had unthinkingly leaned against him the night and day before. He had never indicated that he thought anything more of it than a housecat thought of sprawling across a person's lap.

“Which one gets petted, man or animal?” Alizarin asked in his practical way.

“Animal, usually.” It had been a stupid question.

“So that's fine?” he suggested, running a hand down her side. His hands felt warm, and very human, through the thin fabric.

“Animals don't usually pet back,” she pointed out.

“Abyssi do.”

“Do Abyssi—­” That was an even
stupider
question, with an equally obvious answer.

She was having trouble asking the question because she didn't know what she wanted him to say. Drawing a deep breath, she asked herself,
Are you about to proposition an Abyssi?

Was she?

If he said no, that he had snuggled against her for the same reason an animal might—­for comfort, company, and warmth—­then she would have to ask him to leave, because that was clearly not how her body was responding to his presence. It would be like lusting over a pet dog. Disgusting.

And if he said yes . . .

Alizarin had his flighty moments, but he was a thinking, rational being. He was also beautiful.

And an Abyssi.

Her last lover had been a prostitute. Some ­people who would consider this a step up.

Alizarin started purring again, and at this distance—­none—­and with so little between them, the sensation made her shiver.

“That tickles,” she said, suddenly breathless.

He nuzzled at the crook of her neck, and nipped her there. She held her breath, too aware of how sharp those teeth were, but he released her without drawing a drop of blood. Then he paused, waiting.

She had the sense that he knew exactly what was going through her mind, but was giving her the authority to decide what happened next. Realizing that the Abyssi in bed with her was more considerate and patient than most of the human beasts that had frequented Scarlet's bed, that despite all she knew about the denizens of the infernal realm he cared enough about her comfort and consent that he hadn't even indicated interest until she had, made her decision easy.

She closed the scant distance between them, giving in to the desire to press her lips to the Abyssi's and tangle her fingers in his silken black hair. She was already in the Abyss. What was the worst that could happen at the end of this particular fall from grace?

N
o one bothered them, though Cadmia certainly felt like they slept late, satiated and wrapped in fur and blankets. They made love again after waking, and then Alizarin said, “I need to hunt and make sure the high court is clear before we go. Azo will provide breakfast for you.”

“Mmm.” She hadn't quite recovered her voice yet. It had been a very long time since she'd had any lover, and she had to admit that teenage Cinnabar couldn't compare. “Happy hunting.”

She found her feet several minutes after he had left, bathed, dressed, and went in search of the promised breakfast before she needed to face a trip into the bowels of the Abyss. She ran into Umber along the way. For the first time since they came to the Abyss, Hansa wasn't with him.

“Is Hansa all right?”

“He offered to help prepare breakfast,” Umber said. “I wanted to talk to you alone. Are you okay?”

The sincerity in his tone and expression was worrying compared to his normally cavalier, ironic attitude.

“Yes?” she answered, the word turned into a question by her confusion.

He paused, as if there was more he wanted to say, and then nodded sharply and started to go.

She caught his arm. “You can't ask a question like that and not explain yourself.”

He turned reluctantly back to her. Not mincing words, he explained, “Abyssi aren't known to be kind and gentle lovers. In general, they won't heed a refusal, and mortal partners often don't survive the encounter. Given how you clearly spent your night, I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

Until that moment, Cadmia hadn't thought a person could feel chills while blushing. “How did yo—­”

“One of the servants mentioned that he stayed in your room,” Umber explained, “and I can see his power on you now. Naples, Azo, and Dioxazine will all be able to tell.”

“Oh.” She wasn't ashamed of sex, but she'd never had someone confront her so bluntly about it afterward either. “Well, I'm fine,” she said. “Alizarin is . . .”