Pinnacle
When someone without magic discovers that you are a wizard, it can lead to interesting interactions. Some people view us as a threat; others view us as a challenge. Others still just want to be with us for the sheer thrill of it. Whether you indulge that curiosity is entirely up to you.
Magic Philosophy by Namina Kimathi
Please note that this chapter deals with emotions surrounding religion and religious trauma.
“ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”
Alix’s question draws me back from my thoughts.
I realize I’ve stopped halfway through dressing, my citran held loosely in my hands.
In the few days that have passed since the ball, I can’t shake the feeling of...
something off between the two of us. A persisting sort of awkwardness that neither of us seem to know how to address.
I shake the thought away and pull my top on as I force a smile. “Fine. No, not fine, actually. A little nervous.”
“So you’re going, then?” Alix asks through a yawn.
I go to tie my hair back only to rethink the decision and leave it down. “I think it’s about time I made an appearance.” The thought of attending Pinnacle kept me awake last night, but I’m not sure why Alix seems to have slept as poorly as I did. “What were you up to last night?”
“Talking with Allis.”
I make a quiet sound of sympathy. After I left the ball with Samira, I apparently missed out on some choice drama.
The gossip is that Allis and Tevares got into a bit of a...
discussion. I’m not sure who started it or what it was about, but Allis tried to end it by throwing a fist, and the scuffle had to be broken up by Shykh Ramzi.
Allis has barely spoken to anyone in the delegation since, and I wonder if that’s not why Alix tried.
At least an almost-fight has tamped down some of the talk about trying to force the two of them into a political marriage.
“Good thing it’s Pinnacle. Seems like we could all use a day off,” I mutter. Pinnacle is a weekly day of rest and worship for all of Cairish, which means a mandated break from the talks for everyone else.
Alix gives a grunt of affirmation before he heads out of our shared room.
I follow, and my stomach is like a hive of angry wasps.
The breakfast that’s been left for the delegation looks delicious, but I don’t think I can bring myself to eat anything.
Besides, if I’m truly going to Pinnacle, I should fast until after prayer is over anyway.
It’s too early for the King to be awake, but Arlon seems to sleep less and less every passing day.
He’s sitting at the long table, his eyes unfocused as he picks halfheartedly at a scarce breakfast of flatbread and hummus.
He only surfaces from his thoughts when Alix sits heavily in the chair beside him and starts grabbing much more colorful options from the breakfast spread.
“Morning,” Arlon murmurs before he catches sight of me. He takes one look at my outfit before he asks, “You’re going to Pinnacle?”
I’ve avoided it since we got here, but something at the ball hardened my resolve. If I’m going to do this, I need to put myself in front of Feisal and the rest of the Shykhdar as frequently as I can.
I brush a loose hair behind my ear. “It’s been some time, so I thought maybe I’d go and... reintroduce myself.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of Arlon’s mouth as he looks me over.
The citran and folded fahrits I’m wearing are perfectly acceptable for a man, but my hair isn’t, and Arlon seems to realize it.
He holds up a finger before he gets to his feet.
He disappears into his quarters, but he’s only gone a moment before he returns with a familiar strand of spells.
A strange wave of homesickness overtakes me as I look at my necklace. God, but it feels like it’s been ages since I’ve worn my spells. He untangles one strand from the rest before he holds it out to me.
“Can I trust you to carry these responsibly?” Arlon asks.
It’s my essential strand - mostly defensive and utilitarian spells, with a few evocations for good measure. I have too many spells to carry all of the time, but this is the strand I wear around the Crux and into town, just in case.
“Yes, sir.”
Arlon drapes the spells around my neck before giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Be careful.”
I understand his worry. Going to Pinnacle means leaving the palace. Inside the walls, I’m protected as part of the Strae delegation, but Pinnacle requires a short trip outside. There are private tunnels that the Shykhdar uses to get there, but I doubt I’d be allowed into them now.
“I will,” I promise as I wrap one hand around my spells. Wearing them and my magiline citran, I’m bordering on paranoia. “I’ll be fine.”
Bells ring through the city as I head out of the Strae delegation’s quarters. I cut through the main courtyard until I reach the grand vestibule, steeling myself to go down the grand staircase to the city streets. But then Samira’s voice sounds out behind me.
“Olbric?”
For a second, I’m afraid she’s with my ama and father. But she’s only accompanied by Lavleen and Jahanna, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Are you going to Pinnacle?” Samira asks.
I don’t blame her for being surprised since I haven’t bothered to attend the last couple of weeks. I walk over to join them, smiling as Jahanna throws her arms around my waist in a strong hug. “I figured I’ve avoided it long enough. Where are Ama and Father?”
“They went ahead early.” Samira links her arm with mine before she steers me towards the private tunnels. Two soldiers stand guard at the entrance, and though they eye me with thinly veiled disapproval, they bow politely to Samira and let us pass.
Jahanna grabs my other hand as she says, “Ada walks so slow.”
I don’t doubt it. He put on a strong face when we first arrived, but seeing him at the ball had been eye-opening.
“Or maybe you just race ahead, little dust devil,” I tease. She’s already tugging to try and pull Samira and me down the torchlit path faster, but I grab her fingers and give her a spin. She lets out a delighted giggle as she twirls before coming to settle back by my side.
Samira smiles, but worry pinches her brow. I don’t want to talk about it in front of my younger sisters, so I say, “If you’re going to speed up anyone, go speed up Lavleen.”
As it is, she trails behind us, slippers kicking at pebbles on the marble path. I give Jahanna another twirl before I release her like a whirlwind on Lavleen.
“Ugh, get off, Hanna!”
I glance back to see Jahanna latch onto Lavleen’s hand even as she tries to shake her off. Jahanna cackles and says, “Still trying to save your pretty king’s stink on it?”
I chuckle as they descend into familiar bickering. The sound of Lavleen’s outrage covers my quiet question as I lean close to Samira. “How... is he?”
It’s a topic we’ve both been dancing around. In the times I’ve sneaked out to visit her, our conversations have come close but never touched directly on it. After seeing him at the ball, now seems like as good a time as ever.
Samira lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Do you want the ‘I’m fine, quit nagging’ he gives me, or do you want my opinion?”
I snort. “Your word is far more reliable.”
Samira’s smile is fleeting. “He’s had a difficult couple of years.
He got unhorsed on a hunting trip a few summers ago, and I think his hip was injured worse than he lets on.
Last year, he caught the fever, and it just...
doesn’t seem like he’s been the same since.
He’s moving even slower, and he has a cough that’s never left him. ”
I don’t need to be a corpimancer to see that he’s not well. “Is he getting help from the healers?”
Samira gives a helpless sort of shrug. “He is, but he does it discreetly. You know how he is about showing weakness in front of the others. I didn’t know any details until Ama told me.”
Unease wraps around my chest and pulls tight. “What has she said?”
“Not much,” Samira admits. “It’s like she’s afraid to tempt fate by talking about it. But she doesn’t have to say much for me to know she’s worried.”
A silence descends between us as we listen to Jahanna and Lavleen bicker behind us. After a moment, Samira says, “Ama’s been asking when you will visit her.”
I can’t help but wince. “It’s not for a lack of want. She’s just...”
“Always with him, I know,” Samira finishes for me. “Just think about it? She’s missed you, too. They both have.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, nodding wordlessly.
Ahead, the private tunnel emerges into a receiving room inside of the temple.
We’re surrounded by expertly carved red sandstone with arched windows to let in the morning sun.
Yet they’re all intentionally placed so it isn’t until we emerge into the amphitheater that we see the true grandness of Pinnacle.
A familiar sort of awe slows my steps as I look out across Pinnacle, so grand in scale that the entire population of Marikadar appears like ants below. Yet even the mass of people can’t draw my eye for long.
Instead, they’re pulled towards the natural sandstone formations at the center that reach towards the sky.
The red stone has been worn away by eons and eons of wind and sand to create curving pillars that seem to defy the very pull of the earth with their fantastic shapes.
There are dozens of them, reaching up to form an elaborate crown, as if they were designed to rest on the head of God itself.
And if the priests are to be believed, they are.
“I should stay here,” I say. There’s a private box where the Shykhdar and their families sit, but I don’t dare join. Not when it would bring me within speaking distance of my father.
“Are you sure?” Samira asks.
I nod and motion to the less grand accommodations that are reserved for the Shykhdar’s guests. Right now, with only foreign dignitaries in attendance at court, they’re blessedly empty. “I’ll stay here. I’ll try to come by later tonight, alright?”