The Icon Unbound

Chapter Seven, Part B- The Icon

Only minor changes here. This is also the first time I begin to delve into the realities presented by the system of blood magic and the differences between Chosen and Icons. This is the first thread of a secondary story arc that is resolved in the second book, THE ARBITER UNFORGIVEN. Tell me what you think of all this in the comments below. --Elizabeth, UPDATED 05/10/2017 

Wobbling and nauseous, the Icon slipped from Nadir's back using one of the sloping horns that grew from his head to hold on to as she found her balance. The village seemed to spin around her, and it took three rotations before she realized that she was standing in the back yard of the bathhouse. Nadir had taken her right to their guests.

Certain she looked like a stumbling drunk instead of the dignified spiritual leader of her people; the Icon took her time making her way to the door, trying to compose herself.

Once her fingers touched the latch, she turned to Nadir. "Find the Arbiter. Tell him to meet me at the bell tower."

"I am not letting you alone with these men. They could be the ones that caused all this. I protect the Icon, just as much as the Sentinel. If you think I'm going to neglect that duty after a thousand years, you are mistaken."

She reached out her hand and caressed Nadir's dear, leathery face. "My friend, you have been such a comfort to me."

"Don't say goodbye, Icon. You are not diminishing. Not yet."

"If the barriers have fallen, I might be. I might not have even realized it was happening."

"I would have known."

The Icon shook her head and turned the heavy latch. "Let's go see what our new friends are up to."

Even at this time of night, the bathhouse only dozed. The great fires under the boilers could never be allowed to die, and the pumps that drew in the water had to be checked every few hours to make sure the levels remained steady at every watch in the night. The Icon ran her hand over every familiar, beloved wall as she made her way up to the guest rooms. There weren't very many of them, as there were very seldom any guests, most of them doubled as storage rooms. Choosing the first one, the Icon pushed her way in without knocking.

Nadir peered around her. "Well, that's not suspicious at all."

Corwin was wide awake, kneeling on a square rug in front of a brass bowl filled with blood. Corwin's thin body was slick with sweat, soaking through his dark sleep shirt in ghastly patches. His half-closed eyes looked unfocused and filmy. An open book lay before him, with large drawings of the Saint's alphabet clearly depicted in bold, red ink.

"Blood and..."

The Icon didn't turn her eyes away fast enough. On the page was the word for REVELATION.

Without thought, she stepped forward and snatched up the book, tossing it into the fire where it burned.

Corwin came out of his trance with a start. "What are you doing?"

"Putting the saint's alphabet in a book is stupid and blasphemous. Carrying that in Waterwall is not permitted."

Corwin's face was mottled with rage. "That book was five hundred years old."