The Orphans' Promise (32 page)

Symbolically, Séhane received the visitor in the room where the surviving emissaries to Ji had first reunited a year after their return. Arkane of Junine, Tiramis and Yon of Kaul, Maz Achem, Reyan the Elder, Rafa Derkel, and the wise Moboq were today represented by as many descendants, suffering from the same curse.

The stranger had refused to give her name, but the chamberlains, alert to the possibility of a visitor from Mestèbe, reacted quickly and informed the queen without delay. The heirs waited impatiently to meet this potential new member.

Their interview with the newcomer had to be kept a secret, and Séhane had sent away the guards. She counted on Grigán for protection, if the need arose. Though there wasn’t really much danger, the warrior proudly accepted the duty.

The door opened to reveal Crépel, who held it open for the visitor, and then Crépel left without a word, and all eyes fell on the new arrival.

If she wasn’t a Maz, she sure had the look. A long frock with symbols of the Goddess Eurydis covered her from head to toe. Her face was hidden by a dour, colorless Ithare mask, and her blonde hair rested on her neck, held back by a delicate ribbon. She wasn’t wearing any jewelry, and she was silent.

Séhane walked toward her with a greeting, “Welcome, speak without fear. We are all friends here.”

Despite her confident announcement, Grigán followed the queen closely, thinking it reckless to leave her exposed to this foreigner.

“Are you our correspondent from Mestèbe?” Corenn asked.

The Maz turned toward the Mother, and thought for a moment before responding, “Yes, it is I.”

“Understand, Maz, that we must take every precaution. We need to check to make sure you’re telling the truth. I don’t want to offend, but what did your message say?”

Seeing the stranger’s silence, Corenn added: “We all read it. We are all involved. Have no fear.”

“‘Your Majesty, if the name Ji rings like a curse in your mind, we can be of service to one another. Send a reply with the bird that I hope has survived the journey.’ That’s what I wrote.”

“Welcome, Maz Lana. That is your name, correct? You are Maz Achem’s descendant. An heir.”

Corenn knew the list of heirs so well that she had easily identified the stranger, even after only spending a few moments with her. And that was without the Maz having ever participated in the reunions on the Day of the Owl.

Still suspicious, Lana stayed silent.

“According to my information, you were killed in Ith,” Corenn continued. “By the Züu, I am guessing. I am happy to see that there was no truth to the story.”

Bowbaq added, “We escaped them too.”

Surprised, Lana asked, “You were all attacked by the Züu?”

Grigán responded, “Once or twice.”

Léti clarified, “I killed one. Rey killed two. Bowbaq, three, with his snow lion. Grigán’s already up to seven.” She pointed to each of them as introduction.

The warrior reminded her, “I don’t want you to keep a count like that.”

Lana stared at each of the heirs who surrounded her, wondering if she had fallen in with a group of madmen. These people seemed violent, far from following the Eurydis’s Moral. Inexplicably, she felt safe with them.

“I am Lana of Lioner of Ith,” she announced calmly. “It is true: I am Maz Achem’s descendant, and happy to finally find friends.”

They all commended her and introduced themselves. Hundreds of questions burned their lips. But for the moment, they simply tasted the sweet joy of this reunion, a joy that felt… familial.

Only Rey kept his distance, and he gave his reason when it was his turn to introduce himself.

“I would only like to make sure of one little thing. To see that the face underneath that mask isn’t a painted skull.”

“It’s a religious mask!” Léti said, offended at his suggestion.

“It is also a mask for mourning,” Lana added. “But this young man is right. I should reveal myself, if only to show my respect for Her Majesty.”

She untied the ribbon that attached the mask and pulled it off, finally exposing her face and letting her hair down.

She was a divine beauty. Prettier even than Léti, Yan conceded to himself. But her extra charm came from the years she had on Léti; the Maz bore the look of a more mature woman. Léti would have the same look one day.

“Reyan! So you don’t have some joke for us this time?” Amused, Grigán observed the astonished look on the actor’s face. The Lorelien tried to recover his countenance, but it was too late. The heirs had read the emotions plainly on his face. Surprise. Admiration. Desire.

“I hope you will not be angry with me, Lana,” he stammered awkwardly.

From that day on, Yan felt closer to the actor, for Rey had just fallen in love.

They had many things to discuss and decided to start with Lana’s story, before the rest of them briefly recounted their own. The Maz’s tale was enough to fuel their conversation until late into the night. She had stunning information to share.

She told them about her passionate search into her ancestor’s past. How she found out about Maz Achem’s puzzling experience on Ji. About how Achem had come back to Ith a changed man: a furious reformist of Eurydis’s teachings.

“He wanted the Eurydis cult to be more expansionist, more aggressive. He felt that the conversion of the known world’s civilizations to the Goddess’s Moral was happening far too slowly.”

“I don’t see how that alone could have justified taking his title from him,” Corenn remarked, who was familiar with each emissary’s history.

“Achem advocated a crusade. A crusade for Eurydis. A crusade against the demonist cults. Can you imagine a Maz asking the Grand Temple to raise an army in order to fight a war with the followers of K’lur, Phiras, and the other dark gods?”

The heirs stared at her, horrified. Lana had just let them in on a very important secret, one that lined up with one of their most
pessimistic theories. The place on the other side of the portal was indeed the land of demons.

For a fleeting moment, they all considered sharing what they knew about Ji, the portal, and the other world, but quickly remembered that they were bound to their oath, the promise. Besides, they had only known Lana for a few decidays. Perhaps later on…

Lana could sense their turmoil, but she continued with her story. She had yet to reveal the most important part. “I didn’t discover much more through my research. With time, I lost all interest. Until the day my parents fell deathly ill.”

She let the silence hang in the air, not only out of respect for the deceased but also to compose herself. “On his deathbed, my father made me promise to burn Maz Achem’s journal if it ever fell into my hands.”

The heirs stared at the Maz, hanging on her next words. This latest bit of information provided so much hope that no one dared ask the question they were all burning to ask. Séhane, who was less interested than the others until now, took the initiative. “Have you found the journal?”

“No. I’m not even sure it exists. I thought I would find it in Mestèbe, but I was wrong.”

“How can you be sure it contains anything of interest anyway?” Grigán asked. “It’s quite possible Achem didn’t write anything about Ji.”

“Reports from Ith say that he read a few passages from his journal to the Emaz priests. Supposedly, that’s what prompted his expulsion from the Temple.”

“It could just be a bunch of theoretical ranting,” the warrior countered.

“Do you really think so?”

Grigán didn’t answer. He wanted to believe this journal was their best hope just as much as the others did, but he was afraid to be let down again.

Corenn’s instinct told her that it held the answers to all their questions. Maz Achem had recorded everything, breaking his promise of silence. That would mean that for 118 years, their promise was an orphan, abandoned from the start by one of those who had first sworn it. “Mestèbe wasn’t your only hope, was it?”

“You’re right, Corenn. I know who can tell me whether it exists and where it’s located.”

“Who, besides a dead Maz?” asked Rey.

“A god.”

“Right, of course!” the actor joked. “Why didn’t we think of that sooner! Maybe he could even introduce us to Eurydis. We could empty a few bottles of wine over a game of dice. Why not?”

“I’m serious,” Lana continued. “It’s obvious you don’t have faith, but there are gods living in our world, hidden among us. That is a fact, Reyan.”

“My mistake! If you also have his exact address, I’ll gladly follow you there. I’ve seen so many strange things with this group that nothing can surprise me anymore. I hope it won’t be too expensive at least?”

“I’m talking about
Usul
.”

Rey became serious again. He hadn’t heard many positive legends about Usul.

“The god of the Guoris people,” Grigán commented. “The Land of Beauty.”

“Have you been there before?” Lana asked hopefully.

“I have a friend there, but the native people don’t let anyone set foot on their Sacred Island. Assuming a god really lives there, you could never see him.”

“We must try,” Corenn decided. “Lana is a Maz. That might impress them.”

“It’s not like they’re a bunch of naïve savages,” Grigán explained. “Even though they don’t travel much, they have almost as many warships as the Loreliens. The Sacred Island is better defended than the Great Island itself. It’s too dangerous.”

“And assuming we can meet Usul, by some miracle, and that he really does know the answers, who’s to say he would give them to us?” Rey asked.

“You’re right, Rey, there are lots of holes,” Lana conceded. “But I don’t see any other solution. I need your help.”

They considered the soundness of her observation. Before Lana showed up, they were at a loss. The hope she brought into the picture, however small, and however dangerous, at least offered them some small chance.

“I vote that we go,” Corenn decided. “Many of our questions have remained unanswered for too long. If we manage to meet with Usul, he will also be able to tell us our enemy’s name.”

The heirs nodded silently in agreement.

Their quest was about to become even more difficult.

A shadow soared through the night. It could have immediately arrived at its destination, but enjoyed prolonging the trip. It hadn’t tasted such freedom for too long. It flew along the Median Sea’s waves, plunging under the water at times, never slowing its speed, never making a ripple. The shadow had not yet taken a physical form. It was only a spirit.

The shadow was incapable of appreciating the stunning spectacle of the waves that extended to the horizon. To the shadow, it was simply a new surrounding. Stranger than ones it had seen
before, but not more beautiful. To the shadow everything was ugly and sad; there was no other way of seeing. There may have been a time when it could have seen more—colors, beauty—but that was before, in some distant past. That time was no more.

The shadow glided above the dark sea, cleaving the night sky with a breathtaking speed. Already, the surroundings were changing. It was nearing its target. The horizon rose and became solid earth. The shadow slowed down to relish the time. It flew over human constructions, and in an instant it heard the thoughts of thousands of mortals, and then scornfully rejected them. They were responsible. Masters and slaves at the same time. The shadow hated them all.

It flew over forests and mountains, trails and rivers, villages and cities. As a game, it followed the contours of the hills, descending and climbing without ever touching the ground. It flew over a troop of wild aurochs, as if they didn’t exist. The shadow didn’t know anything about wild aurochs, and cared even less. Even from twenty leagues away, it could still hear the beasts’ distraught whimpering following its visit. Irritating. So as it flew away, it killed them all with a single thought.

The shadow felt surprised, a strange feeling. These efforts tired it. Its power diminished; its flight became more difficult. It had not imagined that it was so fragile and now redoubled its efforts. It had to hurry to finish its mission, to return to its friend.

The spirit then transported directly to its destination, hoping to save strength. This was faulty thinking. It was tired, and now sleep was calling. Fortunately, it would soon be finished with its mission. It listened to a few human spirits, drawing enough strength from them to stay awake.