Chapter Seventeen
Kai
Smell returned to him first. Fresh, cool air; the briny waters he’d grown up on, so sweet and familiar he felt tears prick his closed eyelids.
His head lolled to the side and his jaw clenched, the world spinning like a top beneath him, his limbs too heavy to hold it all still.
He swam towards consciousness, the scents of sand and sea and late summer night and – burning. The acrid, burning reek behind it all.
A voice called out, distorted but close: “Kai.”
His head buzzed. He clung to the sounds of crashing waves, distressed seagulls, the hushed sobs and chatter of too many people.
“Kai.”
His name. He heard himself groan, felt his face scrunch up. The world lurched.
Another face hovered above his, an old man in ash-greyed robes, brows furrowed with urgency. Saros. Beside him, Ahe knelt, an arm resting on one knee, scowling. Kai blinked at him, casting for reality. “Da?”
“I’m not Da, you fucking idiot.”
Nalu.
What happened? Had he hit his head? He tried to reach for it, feel for an injury, but his arm flopped back down.
“Up, Kai, wake up.” Saros sent Nalu a sharp look, prompting him to scoop his arms under Kai’s shoulders and help him to sit. “Up you go, lad. There’s a dote. How do you feel?”
It was early, the pre-dawn light tinting the world blue. He sat on the beach at the edge of Oseidos, the night-cooled bank littered with boulders.
Not boulders – people. People huddling in small groups dotting the shore, heads bowed, talking, crying. Grieving.
His gaze roved past them, up the hill to the village. To the shrine. All of it lay in ruins, blackened, burnt carcasses of buildings and monuments, smoke still filling the dark blue sky.
His heart hammered. His hand, trembling, pressed into his chest, slid up to his neck, his jaw, his eye. He’d been burnt to the bone. He knew this, could dredge up the agony, the rush of adrenaline.
But his skin was smooth. Unmarred.
Scraps of it returned to him: dragging River with him to Llyr’s quarters, finding the wardstone already shattered. The first firebolt crashing through the ceiling. Evacuations, shouting, fighting. Killing.
Moonlight. A small, white thing dyed red, a knife to her throat; a pair of brown eyes fluttering shut, cracked armour, spilled blood.
“Ione. River.” They were there, oh, gods, they were hurt, bleeding. Kai struggled and Nalu released him, letting him fall forward, his strength dissipating.
Where were they? He scanned the beach, locating Etan, Cynthia, Mikau and Ami –
And River. His armour gone and clothes torn and burned, but alive. Relief crested through him, sending tears to his eyes, but after a second, a third look, Kai could not find Ione.
“Where is she?” His gaze locked onto Saros. “What happened?”
“She needs time to process it, I’m sure. She – ” Saros sputtered into a handkerchief, his breaths sounding wet; when he pocketed the soiled handkerchief, Kai caught a glimpse of red. “Gods, this smoke was the last thing my lungs needed. But – yes, Ione. Best to leave her alone for now.”
She was alive. “What – what? Process what?”
“You really don’t remember?” Saros caught Kai’s head in his hands and kissed his forehead.
“My gods, but you were brilliant. Everything we had hoped for. Finally – finally.” He indicated Mikau, busy tending to a burn on someone’s leg; Etan, delegating tasks to his crewmen.
“Ask everyone, once they get a chance to chat. You ought to hear of it. You saved their lives, after all.”
“I really – I don’t remember.” But his stomach churned, and some huge, horrible thing lurked within his mind. Kai shook his head, cold dread passing over him.
“Yes, curious.” Saros tapped his chin. “The way they explained it, it seems like Menon took control of you completely. My gods, but were I there to witness it myself!”
“Yeah,” Nalu muttered flatly. “A real miracle.”
Saros lifted his eyes to the heavens. “The Celestial Pearl works in such mysterious ways. Next time will be easier. We’ll work on it. Soon, you’ll be able to call on Her at will, and wield Her powers as easily as your own.”
Saros reached for him again, and Kai shrank back. “No – ”
“Yes, Kai.” Smiling like a proud father, the Archpriest thumped Kai’s shoulder. “Menon left Ione.” He leaned in, eyes twinkling. “And She chose you.”
Kai felt the blood drain from his face.
It wasn’t true.
It wasn’t real.
Kai looked down at his hands, flexed his fingers, sorted through his hazy memories.
An image flashed in his mind, fuzzy, faraway: Ione in a blood-drenched dress, her face crumpled with confusion and hurt as she heaved herself onto her knees before him. He saw himself hold out his hand. Tears streamed down Ione’s cheeks as she slapped his hand away.
You’ve suffered, he said in a voice that wasn’t his.
Oh, how we’ve all suffered.
Saros waved at Nalu to help haul Kai to his feet, slinging his arms over both their shoulders and ignoring his quiet No, no, no, no. They urged him forward, one foot after the other, towards the others at the end of the beach. Hundreds of eyes swivelled towards him.
One by one, Menon’s worshipers lowered their foreheads to the sand.
“Where’s Ione?” Kai heard himself ask, still searching for her.
Her parents sat alone at the edge of a larger group of priests, staring straight ahead, dazed.
He located Cynthia nearby, offering water to some elderly acolytes; she nodded solemnly but did not hold his gaze.
Mikau sent a weak, sorry smile at him over the heads of the people they helped and Etan didn’t look at him at all.
River peered straight back at him from within a smattering of guards, his face unreadable, one hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Ione,” Kai repeated, louder, when Saros didn’t answer him. “Where is she?”
“I understand your concern, Holiness,” Saros cut in through the teeth of his smile.
“Your wife is fine. Having a tantrum, as is her wont, but fine.” He patted Kai’s arm.
“It will be up to her to come to terms with everything – and she will, of course, eventually. The gods are unknowable; it is their nature.”
Kai stared at him. “Her entire life – ”
“Will be different now,” Saros finished for him. He clicked his tongue fondly. “Don’t punish yourself, Holiness. It is Menon’s will, after all.”
Menon’s will.
He had believed the gods didn’t care about mankind. But this was worse than apathy: this was sadistic.
Saros drew a simple ward in the air with his forefinger, summoning a trace of diaphanous water crystals that condensed into three concentric circles. An amplifying ward.
“My beloved friends,” Saros called to everyone, his voice booming in the sombre night. “My family. May the gods have mercy on those who have harmed us. Hunted us. Burned us. May the gods have mercy – ” His voice wobbled, but he swallowed and carried on, stronger, “ – because we will not.”
He brought Kai forward, his hands steady on Kai’s shoulders.
“From the salt of our tears rises our salvation. Our Light in the Dark. The Celestial Pearl cannot always be understood, my friends. For years we placed our hopes in the wrong hands, but Menon saw our faith, our need, and has rewarded it.”
A sorrowful prayer rippled through the crowd. They were all exhausted, desperate, afraid. But Kai clenched his jaw, wrath surging through him.
“Oseidos is no more,” Saros went on, “But with Menon awoken within our Kai, youngest of the Mahina clan, finally we will see justice dealt.” Saros raised a fist. “The tides will rise, my friends. And so will we.”
Once again, and as horrifyingly as before, the congregation bowed before him.
Glory. Prestige. Everything he had wanted, and yet it felt so hollow, so wrong and cruel, when Kai had done nothing to earn it.
“You need time. I understand, of course I do.” Saros squeezed Kai’s shoulder. “Rest. We’ll be off soon, to Caelos. Hilo will be arriving shortly on the Tannos.”
Saros and Nalu returned to the other priests, and the people on the beach turned back towards themselves, their little groups, whispering. Gritting his teeth, Kai limped through them, his eyes trained on Ione’s parents.
They bowed hastily to him as he approached. He never did like them. Now he liked them even less. “Where’s Ione?”
Ronan nearly cowered, spineless as ever. “She – she just needs time. There’s no need to concern yourself, Holiness.”
Kai bristled. Don’t fucking call me that.
“You worked hard,” Penina said evenly, although her eyes blazed, bitter and covetous. “House Artem congratulates you on – ”
“Where,” Kai broke in, and at once Penina and Ronan lowered their heads. “is your daughter?”
A hand wrapped around his arm, and Kai whirled, fury and terror climbing in his throat.
River’s dark eyes met his and, without meaning to, Kai lunged to clasp onto him.
He scanned River’s arms, ran a hand over his abdomen, images of him burnt and bleeding flashing through his mind. But he, too, was healed.
River caught his hand. Held it. “I’m going to check the altarhouse again and see if there are any other survivors before the Tannos arrives.” There was a dense pause. “Will you accompany your seleneschal, Holiness?”
“River, what the fuck are you – ”
“Holiness.” River closed in, exasperation flashing through his fatigue, and hissed, “Play the part or they’ll throw you into a straightjacket, you plank.”
Kai sucked in a breath, that millisecond of normalcy so reassuring he wanted to cry. He swallowed, his eyes roving from Ione’s parents, who avoided his gaze, to his brothers and Saros and the high priests, and back to River. River held out his hand, and Kai nodded, feeling sick.
Just like Ione used to, Kai laid his wrist in River’s – his seleneschal’s – hand and allowed himself to be led away from the people of Oseidos.