The Carnelian Way

12.1

They arrived in Nebia during the golden hour. The ship had first skirted the coast, heading south-east, then cutting back south-west as they circuited the cape on which Nebia sat, and finally, they pulled into the bay marking the source of the Istaran river—the passage to the inland sea of Enki.

The sun bled over the city, dripping over the sandstone walls, turning them pink and red, while the clay tiles roofs blazed like a summer forest fire. Nebia's forefather's built her on a mountain, long-since carved into a form pleasing to the most powerful empire bordering the Alexia Sea. Concentric circles rose above the impossibly high ramparts, the green of gardens at each level visible, even from so far down. Lines of blue and white and puffs of mist illuminated the waterfalls left to flow, providing drinking water and drainage to the inhabitants. At the pinnacle glowed a white marble palace. The South Star. The way to Mai.

Gulls cried. The water of the bay moved in a soothing drone, and the Crystal Queen cut through it like a blade through silk.

Rina's breath caught in her throat. She was only half-conscious of the men that hurried about, pulling ropes and adjusting the sails. At the back of her awareness, her neck ached as she stared up.

The sailors lowered the masts, and from the stern, the magisters guided the Crystal Queen to park beside one of the piers. At least a hundred vessels lined the port—large and small ones, of various shapes and sizes. Most made of oiled wood with white canvas, others painted and masted in diverse colours, a handful bearing the flags of far-off nations, including one from the Bani Islands. Rina wondered what Fin would think of that.

With a pang, she realised this was the last time she would stand here, where she had been with him soo many times. The crew, however, had made it clear they would not miss this, with their stony gazes and muttered curses each time she ascended the poop.

She felt Fin's presence before he spoke.

"I'll miss this."

She smiled, her eyes still on Eurora's capital, a sense of the unreal buffering the jab of sadness, muting it to a dull prod.

"Me too—but I'll still see you, won't I?"

The pause that followed made her turn. Fin's purple eyes were dark. The typical grin had left his lips, and they drooped like wilting flowers.

Rina's hand reached out to him, trembling now. The moist heat of a humid day hung in the air. The white linen shirt he wore had lost its crispness. Cold washed away the anticipation of the moment before, leaving her with dread. First the loss of Olav, and soon Fin. Where did that leave her—a tainted Denese?

In the back of her mind, it struck her that there should be more to her regret than missing his shelter and touch. She mentally swiped the thought away, like a nuisance fly.

"Please, I know you can't stay here always, but can't you..." The words died. She swallowed before speaking again. "Can't you visit me, at least?"

A shadow of his smirk flickered at one corner of his mouth. His hands came to rest on her hips.

Rina made to back away. "We shouldn't, Fin. Not here, you—"

He kissed her words away, his lips familiar and warm, melting away her worries, so she floated in a bubble. This was how she knew she loved him. No one could feel this from a kiss and not know it was love.

The sun continued to lower behind them.

"Haven't I told you, Rina, I was asked to care for you. To do what was necessary. After that first time I met you, I knew you needed more than just my physical protection." He pulled her toward him. The scent of spice and a faint tang of sweat enveloped her. "Times are changing. Mai knows this. Trust me."

She nodded, only a small tendril of unease tickling her stomach.

"I trust you."

"Then believe I will say goodbye before I go. And after, I will return."

☆☽○☾☆

The prisoners didn't leave the ship. Nor did most of the crew, except Fin and his second and third in command. The Magisters, four in total, and the new members of the Magisterium guard accompanied the twenty-three chosen Denese.

There'd been no forsaking ceremony during the day, and the chosen looked fresh and alert. The Magisters appeared tired and haggard.

Sharp pricks crawled up Rina's spine like the claws of a slinking cat.

They reached the enormous oak gates, and Ro touched her forehead. The crystal diadem flashed once in the shadows, and the door swung open on soundless hinges, revealing Eurora's beating heart.

People rushed through Nebia's streets like blood through veins. The calls of end-of-the-day hecklers shouted their wares, while a small pack of dogs ran past, teeth barred, tails flailing, as they squabbled over a stolen bone.

Men had approached with horses for the Magisters, Olav, and Fin, and they sat astride them, hooves clopping on the paving stones. Olav didn't glance once at Rina, as they made their way through the city. Sometimes Fin turned back to Rina with a tilt of his lips. The roads wound around like the inside of a shell. Warehouses, factories, and shops dominated the lower section—the air redolent with the stench of cured leather, and urine used to dye textiles. Unhewn rock and tufts of grass poked between buildings, a reminder of the mountain beneath the city.

Soon, mage lights winked on, bathing the world in an emerald glow—in a way no longer allowed in Amadore. Some people stared at their slow procession. An older man spat on the ground after the Magisters had passed. The way his eyes burned as they locked on Rina made her shudder. The temperature had cooled with the setting of the sun, but she was hot and sweaty when they finished climbing a final set of hewn steps. Her shoulder stung from carrying her sack of possessions, small as it was. She grinned to herself when she saw the sheen on Mehdi's face after lugging his near-bursting one, and she was glad her fieldwork kept her fit.

Surprisingly, they had come to one of the higher levels of the city. Only two more levels sat above them. On the uppermost one, the marble castle under the bright light of the early moon, Hecata. When Máni came, it would be enough to warn off ships from the shore.

A grass expanse stretched before them, between it, a path of white led to a wide, two-storied mansion. Hedges edged the way, and trees dotted the lawns lawn. Some sprinkled with the white of blossoms.

Pebbles crunched beneath their shoes. The horses' kicked up dust, and Rina tasted it, dry and gritty in her mouth. Someone coughed, crickets chimed, and a strange-sounding animal—a bird, she assumed—let out a long warble.

An acolyte received them at the entrance. She waited while Ro dismounted, her pale skin ethereal in the moonlight, her ice-blue eyes patient.

"Anya," said Ro.

The girl bowed her head, hands folded and resting against her umber robes.

The wind blew, and overhead, stray wisps of clouds ambled through the sky.

"Are the rooms ready?"

"They are, Magister, shall we take our guests to them?"

Ro sniffed. "Please do. Show them to the baths first. They can rest after.

The girl bobbed her head again. "Magister."

Ro and the magisters entered. They lingered until two other acolytes joined them, one male, one female. The men were separated and disappeared into the same long hall on mumbles and echoing footsteps.

Fin, still on his horse, gave Rina a farewell wink as he trailed the path around the estate, following Olav and the guards. She gripped his crystal pendant in answer, then returned her attention to the two remaining acolytes.


"Come then," said Anya. 

★☾●☽★

A/N: Thanks again for reading, guys. You know the drill: I love votes, comments and my readers (vocal and silent).

Also, with all the craziness going on in the world, I hope people are taking care of themselves and the people around them. With that in mind, please, please, don't take all the toilet paper from the supermarket shelf! (And if you are one of the people guilty of that, perhaps consider sharing some of your stash with a senior citizen who finds it hard to get to the shops).