Five #2
noiselessly outward on their own. And we stepped into the throne room of the Deathless queen.
It was as breathtakingly stunning as one would think. The vaulted ceiling soared above us, beams and rafters twisted with
flowering vines that filled the air with heady sweetness. Pillars marched down the room, each one carved in the shape of a
tree, marble branches forming delicate archways above us. Some of the branches even had the figurines of tiny songbirds among
the leaves. Shimmering curtains of water flowed down the walls, cascading into pools that threw golden light over everything.
I was instantly overwhelmed; it was all I could do to place one foot in front of the other when all my instincts were urging
me to turn and flee this room as quickly as possible.
At the end of the chamber from a throne of gold-veined marble shaped to look like curling vines, leaves, and flowers, the
Void-filled eyes of the Deathless queen met mine.
“Welcome, Fateless.”
Her voice, soft as it was, made the pillars tremble. The queen rose, her presence seeming to fill the room. The iylvahn were
a tall people, but the queen stood easily head and shoulders over them. Her long white hair rippled behind her as she raised
an arm and beckoned us forward. “Come. Don’t be afraid. You have nothing to fear in my court.”
I started forward, then noticed a familiar figure standing on one corner of the dais. My heart leaped as Raithe stared in
our direction, but the eyes that met mine were blank, empty of emotion.
Chancellor Llorek stopped at the base of the throne and bowed low at the waist. We followed his example, even Kysa, though
she did not bend as far as the rest of us. I suspected the insect rider would not say anything unless spoken to directly,
but even though her people hated the Deathless, I doubted she would violate the rules of iylvahn culture.
“Greetings again, Fateless.” The queen smiled, and it seemed to light up the room. I was struck again by how beautiful she
was. “Welcome to Irrikah. I trust you and your companions have found your stay pleasant so far?”
“Yes, thank you,” I said.
“I have spoken to my kahjai about the events that happened in Kovass,” the queen went on, gesturing to Raithe, who didn’t
move. “Please accept my condolences for the loss of your city and its people. I can only imagine the terror and chaos that
came of a Deathless rising into existence once more.”
You really can’t, I thought. You’d have to have been there to understand the scale of absolute horror and destruction the Deathless King had wrought upon the capital.
The screams, the panic, the roar of buildings as they toppled around you, raising billowing clouds of dust to choke out the sky .
. . It was like the end of the world had come.
No one who hadn’t stood in the city that day could imagine what it was like.
Or maybe I was wrong. Maybe the Deathless queen did understand. Maybe, in the ages long past, she had done something like that herself.
Obviously, I did not say any of this out loud. I wasn’t even certain I should be thinking it. If the queen could read my thoughts or sense what I was feeling, she would not appreciate it. I simply nodded, and the
queen did not press the matter further.
“Given everything that has happened to you, Fateless, I am grateful that you agreed to come here at all. Especially since
I know my kahjai. Their secretive nature is sadly necessary for our survival, but I can imagine this one”—she spared a glance
at Raithe, who continued to gaze straight ahead, blank-faced—“was not entirely forthright with you.”
A lump caught in my throat, and I swallowed it quickly. “He told me what I needed to know,” I said, not looking at Raithe,
either. “He said that I was Fateless, and that it was important that I come and speak with you.”
“But not that I was Deathless. At least, not according to your reaction.” Her pupilless black eyes shifted to Halek and Kysa
standing beside me. “All of your reactions.”
I bit my lip hard. The queen already saw far too much. I wondered if this was magic, or simply that she had lived such a long time, she could see everything happening around her, no matter how small.
When I didn’t answer, the queen made a small motion at Chancellor Llorek, standing off to the side. The chancellor straightened
and clapped his hands sharply, the noise echoing through the room. Immediately, the rest of the iylvahn in the chamber turned
and left, filing out through the massive doors. Chancellor Llorek bowed low to the queen before he, too, strode from the room,
the doors swinging noiselessly shut behind him.
The Deathless queen smiled at me once more. “I know it must have been a shock, Fateless,” she went on. “Believe me when I
say I understand your reservations. Watching another of my kind destroy your city, hearing the stories of the ancient kingdoms
and the tyranny of their rulers—nothing you’ve learned about the Deathless has been good. But you have heard only fragments,
tiny grains in an infinite desert of knowledge. The truth about my kind stretches farther than anyone save the goddess can
remember. If you are to have any hope of surviving the king’s plans for this world, you must understand how the Deathless
came to be.” Her perfect lips thinned, the void in her eyes becoming even darker. “It is not a tale I would tell lightly.
Or at all, if circumstances were different. Most have forgotten. My fellow Deathless, in the long, long centuries of our reign,
many of them forgot where we came from. But I never forgot. And the king you will face soon . . . he has not forgotten, either.”
The king I will face soon.
I felt sick, like I couldn’t catch my breath, as the scenario I had been terrified of the most became a horrifying reality.
The queen wanted me, a small, insignificant thief from Kovass, to stand against the godlike power of the Deathless King and .
. . what? Kill him? Slay a being that couldn’t die, even at the hands of other Deathless?
Who could pull down whole cities with a thought, bring ancient abominations back to life, and end the lives of thousands of souls on a whim .
. . What was I supposed to do against that kind of power?
Even if I was Fateless, I had nothing, just my wits, my luck, and the uncanny ability to survive.
That was not going to be enough when facing the Deathless King.
“You will be the first mortal souls in thousands of years to hear this tale,” the queen went on, unaware—or uncaring—of my
sudden terror. “Not even my own people know how the Deathless came to be. But if the Fateless is to save this world from absolute
subjection, to stand even a sliver of a chance against the king, you must understand his past. And, thereby, his weakness.
Are you prepared for what that will mean, Fateless?”
I swallowed hard, a tiny flutter of cautious hope breaking through the surging fear. The Deathless King had a weakness? If
I knew what it was, would it help me? He was still godlike in his power. The problem wasn’t knowing the king’s weakness, it
was getting close enough to use it without being turned to ash as soon as he saw me.
But I would take anything at this point.
Any hint or sliver of hope, no matter how small.
I had already made the promise—to Raithe, to myself, to everyone—that I wouldn’t run anymore.
I was tired of secrets. I wanted to know everything, no matter how terrifying or impossible it seemed.
If it was up to me to destroy the god who had been reborn into our world, then I would do my best. And hope that, somehow, impossibly, it would be enough.
I took a furtive breath to steady myself and looked up into the depthless black eyes of the queen.
“Yes.”