29. ABSOLUTION
ABSOLUTION
YSIRA
Iyelekirin twitched and pulsed in the back of Ysira’s skull, as though excitably communicating with whatever lay beyond the Gate.
She had grown more acclimated to the Source’s effects since her mishap at Zal Fel, but her demon’s restlessness still made it difficult to focus.
She struggled to tune it out as she assessed the situation.
Jacen knelt on the floor before the Gate, wearing a dazed expression.
A teenage girl Ysira didn’t know, dressed in the grey robes of a Church novitiate, hovered beside an exhausted-looking Seth.
Then there was Ogden, and a slight, pointed-eared man in head-to-toe armor who—unless she was very much mistaken—was of the same species she had fought on the Firstborn station.
Where to begin?
The novitiate saved Ysira the trouble when, without warning, she burst into tears. It was impossible to tell what might have set her off. Perhaps whatever she’d endured to reach this place had simply caught up with her.
Hesaya had almost reached the door but doubled back.
She embraced the novitiate. The girl seemed briefly horrified, arms stiff at her sides, but then she began to cry harder.
She sobbed into Hesaya’s robes as the priest murmured, “You’re safe.
It’s over. Come with us; I’ll get you a meal and a bath. ”
She looked at Ysira, not really asking permission, but Ysira nodded. Hesaya gently guided the novitiate away. When they were gone and the others had recovered, they all accosted Ysira at once.
“Where have you been?” Seth exclaimed. “Where is Neri?”
“Neri is safe and eager to see you.” Ysira turned to Ogden. “It’s good to see you alive. I worried my actions might have made you a target.”
“You needn’t have.” Ogden cast an appraising glance around the temple chamber. “You did well.”
“Ysira,” Seth cut in. “What did you do?”
“What, indeed?” Ogden raised his eyebrows. Jacen also looked up at her expectantly, as did the . . . other person.
She would come back to that.
She put it as concisely as possible. “Neri found the demon. I was too late to stop it from claiming him as a host. We were taken by the gods to their . . . they called it a station, in the sky. I killed quite a lot of them. We escaped. The Lord of Hunger made it clear he means to take revenge.”
They all stared at her. Ysira pointed at the diminutive armored man, now lurking in the shadows behind Ogden. “He’s one of them, isn’t he? What’s he doing here?”
“He can be trusted.” Ogden hesitated. “I’m sorry I never told you the full story, but it wasn’t all mine to tell.”
“Circumstances have changed,” Urien said. “Ysira—I’m so pleased to finally meet you.”
He extended a four-fingered hand. Ysira tensed, unsure what he expected from her. Ogden muttered to Urien, “Not a local custom.” He raised his own hand—gloveless, the first time Ysira had ever seen it that way—and paused as her gaze traveled over the shimmering metal.
It was her turn to stare, torn between curiosity and horror. “There’s a great deal I haven’t told you,” Ogden admitted.
“It’ll have to wait,” said Seth. “For the last time—what happened?” He met Ysira’s eyes. “Ged thinks you killed Damir and Casandra.”
“They gave me no choice,” Ysira said. “They tried to kill me and take Neri back to Ged. Isn’t that what we were all trying to avoid?”
“Ged said Casandra was burned,” Jacen spoke up, finally seeming to remember how. “That wasn’t you. That was the demon, wasn’t it?” His brow furrowed. “Is that what happened to the Gatekeeper’s arm?”
Seth’s shoulders sagged. “Gods.”
“None of that was intentional,” Ysira said. “Neri is learning to control it. Eneva can be difficult, but she’s very knowledgeable, and she agrees he needs to understand how to use this power as safely as possible.”
“That’s nice. You want him to embrace this world-ending power safely.
” Seth rubbed his forehead. “After what I saw in Zivora, I understand. I do. I know Neri will be at the center of the conflict ahead, whether I want him to be or not. But . . . Jacen’s explained integration to me once or twice. Is Neri integrated?”
“Not yet.” Ysira suppressed a wince as hope flared to life on Seth’s face. “All I ask is that we leave Neri the option of an exorcism,” he said.
“Jacen could do it.”
“Possibly,” Ysira allowed. Jacen said nothing, but she nodded at him.
“I’m hoping you might help, regardless. They don’t have many telepaths here, let alone Tier Six.
Another of the valak can channel extradimensional energy, and she’s been able to teach Neri a bit, but no one can make much sense of Naxal. ”
Eneva had an irritating habit of sending every telepath that crossed her threshold through the Trial of the Gate, with abysmal results.
She had explained to Ysira, somewhat condescendingly, that these were desperate times.
Ysira was less surprised than frustrated that she’d tried to force the Trial on Jacen when he might well be the only one strong enough to commune with Naxal.
The priest looked as if he’d been beaten to the very brink of death and barely crawled away.
He had a manic energy about him—movements too quick, dark-circled eyes darting about like he thought he was being followed.
More interestingly, he was sober. He also no longer wore his double-circle medallion.
“Now,” said Ysira. “Where is Ged?”
“We don’t know.” A shadow fell over Seth’s face. “I don’t know what you’ve heard from Zivora, but Ged . . . He killed my father.”
Ysira did not have it in her to be sorry but assumed a sympathetic sort of expression for Seth’s sake. Ged would turn up again. He always did. She would worry about that later.
Ogden clapped his metal hands with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. “So! Are we finally cleared to enter the city proper?”
“We’re set up in the old library.” Ysira directed them through the door, back the way they had come. The militiamen stood ready to guide them to the Shrouded City.
But Seth lingered behind and stopped Ysira before she could follow. He was looking at her with a truly audacious blend of pity and tenderness, such that she knew what he was going to say.
“You told Neri?”
Ysira addressed the space beside Seth’s head. “If you’re going to pass judgment on how I’ve handled this—”
“No.” Seth drew back as though wounded and added more emphatically, “No, I’m not. I’m just sorry it had to be this way.” He seemed to struggle internally. “For what it’s worth, all those years ago, I should have helped you. I always cared about you. I still do.”
Ysira gave a tight nod and started to follow the others.
Seth caught her by the arm. His callused hand was strong and terribly gentle.
He lowered his voice. “I should have done more. Gods, after everything I’ve seen .
. . I should have done so much more, in so many ways, I don’t know where to begin.
” His face contorted. “I never asked. I should have. Did Ged— Did he—” He couldn’t finish.
“No,” said Ysira. “He did nothing to me against my will.” “But—”
“Seth?” Ysira said through gritted teeth. “Drop it.” There was nothing she wanted to discuss less, and for now, he seemed willing to honor that. But he had a tragic, distant air about him as they left the Gate chamber side by side. She did her best not to see it.
The oppressive sandstone labyrinth opened on a cavern suffused in red light.
Its ceiling was a mass of crystals, like the split-open face of a massive geode, sustaining vast, tilled fields of rich volcanic soil—crops of corn, squash, and barley.
Far from the sun’s evil gaze, these plants flourished unlike any in Zivora’s agricultural district.
Seth took it all in with a shocked expression.
Scattered workers made their way through the fields with tools and baskets, and a few stopped as they passed. Ysira caught a pair staring at her, only to quickly pretend they hadn’t been when she looked their way.
It was an odd thing, to have lived her whole life unworthy of notice and then to suddenly be perceived everywhere she went. She was still getting used to it. She wondered if she ever would.
“I can’t believe the Church never found this place,” Seth said, once they had passed back into the tunnels. “Especially after . . . You know. Jacen.” He paused. “I’m worried about him. He’s acting strangely.”
Ysira shrugged, though she didn’t disagree. “He’s a strange man.
It’s not my fault you’re too infatuated with him to have noticed.”
A dark flush crept up Seth’s neck, but he said, “I do expect this, from him.” He glanced around the empty tunnel. “But these people are worryingly religious, and I’m afraid they might encourage him.”
“He’s not stupid. He’s more than capable—”
Seth cut Ysira off with a wince and a wave of his hand.
“I know. He’s one of the most brilliant people I’ve ever met.
We also both know he’s not exactly well, and .
. . you didn’t see it, Ysira. They were going to kill him back there, and he would have let it happen.
I—” He swallowed. “I’m afraid he’s just brilliant enough to convince himself of any insane thing he wants to believe. ”
“Seth.” Ysira touched his bristly cheek, with a softness she’d never have deigned to show when they were younger. He froze. “I know what I’m doing.”
“I believe you,” he said.
Ysira wasn’t sure he did. But his eyes had softened. “Just be careful,” he told her. “Please.”
As they resumed walking, she felt his touch on her shoulder. When he brushed his hand along her arm and squeezed her fingers in his, against her better judgment, she let him.
Eneva met them at the library, still wearing the coolly resigned look she’d taken to assuming whenever Ysira was near.
“This is the library of Otavok,” she said. “We’ve been collecting scraps of knowledge, archiving it here for centuries.” She glowered at the new arrivals. “This is the work of generations. Touch anything, and I’ll have you fed to the spiders.”