Chapter 9
Sophos
Ipace the corridors of the Grand Bearer’s court. Waiting.
Every day I spend between these walls, under the command of that man, my conscience grows heavier.
I can hardly remember the joy that used to fill me when I stepped into the high temple.
Instead, it’s getting harder and harder to look Marek Caledon in the eye, to bow and scrape to him without giving away a trace of my disgust.
But I must play my part. For the sake of the gods. For Trova’s children.
I still don’t know for certain if celestial power is a force for good or bad when put in the hands of mortals, but I know it can’t be worse than the murder of innocents—and these children are innocent.
I refuse to believe my precious nephew, Olin, and those like him can be blamed for the power they wield.
How could I ever have been blind enough to think otherwise? But now I must make up for that blindness, however I can.
The door in front of me creaks open.
“Bearer Claes,” I greet the lean, red-headed bearer as she exits the Grand Bearer’s office.
“Bearer Sophos,” she inclines her head, then glances at the door behind her. “It seems we’re all getting our summons today,” she says wryly.
“Indeed,” I reply, trying to read her face. Did she have bad news to give the Grand Bearer, or good? She doesn’t look too disturbed, which must mean the meeting went smoothly. “All is well, I assume?”
“Oh yes, it’s just busy these days. You know that better than any of us, I’m sure.”
I smile. “Naturally. But they are exciting times too.” I hesitate, wondering if I might be able to push her for information. “Of course, if there’s ever anything I can help with…”
I’m answered by a flicker of curiosity in her eyes, and I realize I’ve overstepped. We both know I’ve never made her an offer like this before. I lower my gaze, summoning a somber expression.
“After the murder of Bearer Polis in Hallowbane, I’m more conscious than ever of our duty to support our fellow bearers,” I say.
“If I had been there more for our colleague—may he rest in peace—then perhaps he would not have strayed. Then he would have never found himself in that cursed establishment, at the heathens’ mercy. ”
“I hope you’re not worried I have fallen foul of the same blasphemy as Bearer Polis?” Bearer Claes says stiffly. I fight to hide a wince. I’ve insulted her, which is…not ideal. But at least she seems to believe my motive for asking about her work.
“No, no, of course not,” I say hastily. “Please forgive me, I merely mean that we are stronger when we work together.”
Bearer Claes’s expression is guarded, but I’m still considered the Grand Bearer’s special advisor, and she knows better than to totally rebuff me.
“It’s a noble thought, Bearer Sophos,” she says diplomatically.
“But I really am doing fine. Our project…well, it’s just a new scheme we’re heading up with the lords in Godom, and they’re already faithful followers of the Temple.
I don’t expect any problems there. Thank you for the offer, all the same. ”
I don’t believe her gratitude for a moment, but the vagueness of her answer is another reminder that she doesn’t trust me.
That’s typical—none of us trust each other these days.
The Grand Bearer has become much more cautious recently with what he allows us to share with each other, and that wariness has naturally filtered down through the ranks, blocking my attempts at information gathering.
“Not at all,” I say, realizing I’m not going to get any further. “I mustn’t keep His Grace waiting any longer. Good day, Bearer Claes.”
“Good day, Bearer Sophos.”
I push through the heavy door. This is another sign of change.
Normally, we meet informally by the reflecting pool at the center of his court, but today the Grand Bearer is receiving me in his office.
It could be nothing, simply a practical choice after he had other meetings today.
Or it could signal that he’s putting more distance between us, wrapping himself in secrecy like armor.
I can’t let that happen, not if I’m going to stop those plans.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” I say. He’s standing by the vast, arched window that overlooks the city, sunshine streaming across the shoulders of his white robes. He turns, and it’s then I see we’re not alone.
My heart sinks into my stomach.
The woman is on her knees, her wrists chained together.
I don’t recognize her. Her hair falls lankly about her face, which is stained with tears.
Her lips are cracked and bloody, like she’s chewed right through them in fear.
When she sees me enter, her eyes widen, and she turns as much as she can to address me.
“Please help me. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t—”
“Silence.” The Grand Bearer’s voice is hard as iron. The woman flinches like she’s been struck and doesn’t say any more.
“Bearer Sophos is too righteous a man to be swayed by your blasphemy, heretic,” he says. The woman starts to cry again, her entire body shaking.
“You have dishonored Ethira, but the Temple is merciful,” Caledon continues. “You will have to make the ultimate sacrifice, but your soul will be cleansed in the process.”
As he speaks, he moves over to his desk. It’s piled with papers, and I step carefully forward so that I might see their contents. I’m soon distracted by the object Caledon lifts out from among them.
The scythe of Ethira almost glows in the sunlight. In shape it looks like any ordinary short-handled scythe a farmer might wield, but the resonance of its power is unmissable.
My mind whirls, trying to conjure up some way I might be able to save this woman.
But my imagination fails me. There is nothing I can think of that would persuade the Grand Bearer out of what he’s about to do, no course of action that doesn’t leave me also dying on the plush carpet—a pointless death that would accomplish nothing since it certainly wouldn’t save this woman.
I’m not afraid of death, but I cannot afford to meet it. Not yet.
Caledon returns to the window and, quite casually, brings the scythe slashing down across the woman’s body. The blade slips straight through her, like she’s a ghost, but the moment it makes contact she goes rigid, her eyes glazing over, and she slumps to the floor.
Her chains clank as she falls, her neck angled outward with her face turned toward me. The Grand Bearer bends, examining her.
“Remarkable, isn’t it? One can sense that something has been lost, and yet her heart keeps beating. She is very much alive.”
I look away from the woman’s empty stare, my eyes falling once more on the desk.
There are various weathered scrolls unfurled, displaying a few symbols I recognize.
The sketch of a cup, and an old tract from when the Grand Bearer first sent me to find the scythe.
Caledon is being thorough—confirming some of his theories before he gathers all the tokens of Ethira.
“It is miraculous, Your Grace,” I agree. “But will she stay alive long?”
Caledon stops studying the woman, turning his dark eyes toward me.
He looks different since he killed those children.
He appears oddly younger than ever before.
All the lines and signs of age have been smoothed from his face, and the gray is gone from his hair.
There’s a vitality that shines out of him.
All that’s unchanged is his eyes—they remain as black as ever.
“I will cleanse her soon, if that’s what you’re asking, Sophos,” he says. “But left to her own devices, the spark of life should dwindle quickly. I just want to make absolutely certain that it’s a matter of hours or days, rather than minutes.”
I exhale. This is the most explanation His Grace has given me for a while. I knew he wanted to combine the tokens to use on himself, just as the legends describe Ethira did, but at least now he’s being open about his methods.
“And when you cleanse her, what will happen to her soul, Your Grace?” I ask.
His eyebrows shoot up. “I’m surprised, Sophos. You usually ask such pertinent questions. But it hardly matters where her soul goes now. We have no need to call it back. Likely, it will remain trapped in the ether for eternity. That is a suitable punishment for her heresy, don’t you think?”
It’s not, and he knows it’s not. I grit my teeth and nod, but inside I burn with loathing.
The way this man twists our teachings so cruelly makes me sick.
He promised this woman salvation—a clean soul that could at least find peace in the Eternal Realm.
But he doesn’t care a jot for her soul. Instead, he’s thrown it away like trash.
“I saw it the moment I walked in, Your Grace,” I say, lying through my teeth. “The evil in her eyes was clear, and I knew she must’ve committed a truly terrible crime.”
Caledon lays the scythe back down on his desk, considering my words.
“Perhaps not terrible by everyone’s standards, Sophos. But we know better. This woman was an aquari, and denied that Ethira was the most important of the gods, preferring to make all her offerings to Mariste.”
I blink. The custom of favoring your patron god over Ethira is a practice we’ve discouraged over the years, but as far as I know, the Temple has never executed someone for it unless they stayed defiant when we tried to correct them. After a firm lesson from the cleavers, most people see reason.
The Grand Bearer expects my surprise, watching my face carefully.
“The sin may seem small at first glance, Sophos, but we’re living in times when rotten sentiments like that spread too easily through a community.
If we’re going to purge Tiearland of heresy and make this land worthy of the gods, we must drive out every hint of behavior like this. ”
Worthy of the gods. He hides behind these ideas, but I’ve come to see the Grand Bearer only truly cares if he is worthy of the gods—strong and powerful enough to become one of them.
But what then? What happens when he has followed in Ethira’s footsteps and wields his power?
No mortal can know how the gods will react to that, but I’d like to know what the Grand Bearer thinks will happen.
“I suppose the fae prince must be dead by now then,” I say, trying to steer the conversation oh-so-gently in the right direction. “That, at least, would be a tremendous boon, Your Grace.”
“Yes,” says the Grand Bearer thoughtfully.
“I’d be surprised if a body can hold on more than a week without its soul.
Even one as large and lumbering as that prince.
Still, it is a shame it wasn’t her instead of him, as we intended.
” His voice hardens with anger at the thought of the princess, even if it doesn’t register on his face.
“I assume you have news? It is, after all, why I called you here.”
I lick my lips, praying I’m not about to stoke his rage further. The happier he is with me, the easier my task will be.
“We don’t know exactly where she is, but I’ve had reports that she crossed the border into Filusia, and we believe she’s still there.”
He frowns. “I would’ve thought the fae king would have nothing to do with her after she got his grandson killed. Surely their alliance is over.”
I shake my head. “It’s unclear. She could be hiding in the kingdom without his knowledge.”
Caledon waves his hand. “No matter. It’s time we make use of the Morelium again, I think. They will sniff her out for us.”
“And then, Your Grace?” I ask mildly. I know he doesn’t need her power anymore, not since he drained it from those children instead.
“Then they will deal with her. Whether her alliance with the fae is broken or not, she’s a figurehead for heretics of all races, and therefore she must be stopped.
I will tell them to do it properly this time, rather than send a single weakling like Parvus to take her on.
” Bitterness fills his voice as he recalls how often the princess has eluded him in the past.
“The Morelium are faithful followers, Your Grace. I’m sure they will see it through.”
Caledon catches my eye, offering me a gentle smile. For a moment, I see once again that wise councillor I believed in for so many years.
“They’re just the beginning. Once the gods have blessed me with immortality, Sophos, all of Filusia will come to the light. We’re on the edge of a new age. One where the whole of Tiearland recognizes the Temple of Ethira’s truth. I shall be the crusader who makes it happen.”
“It will be glorious, Your Grace,” I agree, the words bitter in my mouth even as I try to make them sound sincere. “The gods will surely reward you for such dedication.”
The Grand Bearer laughs, and the sound cuts me like a knife.
“You’re forgetting, my dear Sophos, that by then I will also be a god. I won’t need their reward. Once my work here is done and Tiearland is purified, I’ll ascend to the Eternal Realm to join my divine family.”
I bow my head, as if overwhelmed with joy at the thought. “Of course, Your Grace.”
The man is insane, and he will destroy us all with his madness before this is over.
“I trust the search for Ethira’s tokens is going well?” I add, hoping to glean one more shred of information before I’m dismissed. I glance up to see Caledon’s eyes brighten.
“Very well. I expect news on that front any day now.”
He doesn’t tell me more, doesn’t trust me with more. I doubt he’s sharing the information with anyone except the minions he has hunting the objects for him.
As I leave his office, I have only one hope. There’s a weapon strong enough to stop him, and it’s hiding somewhere in Filusia.
The princess. She started all of this. It was the prophecy about her, the promise of so much celestial power, that convinced Caledon he could mimic Ethira’s journey to divinity. It’ll be up to her to finish it.
That is, if she doesn’t get killed first.
I don’t know how to get a warning to her directly, but I do know she has friends among the rebels. As I leave the temple, I think that perhaps a little bird might carry a message their way.