The Carnelian Way

27.

The steam of the hot spring snaked across the floor. The night was unusually cool, like Amadore in spring, and the earth and the rocks of the mountain devoured what remained of the day's warmth. This brought a pang of nostalgia and fear. How were Pietro and Iskra in their cells? And Uma? Timid, spineless Uma all alone in that house. The updates she received said all was fine—and yet she fretted.

Upstairs, the Chosen slept. Since the trial, almost a week ago, there'd been no nighttime gatherings or visits. Rina was uncertain why. Perhaps it was the additional tests and training. Perhaps to stem the gossip. Or perhaps it was to let Mai's announcement at the trial spread through the city. To see how people would respond, including the magisters and Euran's selected to 'befriend' the Chosen. To woo them now, she realised.

A wry smile tugged Rina's mouth as she unlaced her robe, the air sending goosebumps scuttling from shoulders to toes, and stepped into the scalding pool.

Surprisingly, Mai's deceit in not explicitly telling them why they came here didn't anger her. She supposed it was because breeding programs existed in the Denese settlements. Understandably. Consanguinity led to madness and madness to the Taint. Though, after all these centuries, 571 turns, the risks must be low. Very low.

At least Mai offered them a choice—and if no-one matched with them, or they wanted only to learn to wield the Carnelian Way, this was fine. He assured her of this after he kissed her.

Her fingers came to her lips, and she closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the water.

Something prickled at the base of her spine and squeezed deep in her chest. He told her she was Arkis and Elia's descendent, that her eyes made it unmistakable—and this, this made them from the same bloodline. But he would have traced her geneology. The Magisterium always did.

571 turns. How many generations since Elia? Many. Enough.

Phantom hands swept through the water. They found the small of her back and the nape of her neck, and she was in his arms again.

Think about what you could do, a voice in her mind said.

He'd shown her how to use her power and said united they could heal the divide between their people. By his side, the changes she could make to the lives of the Denese... Where to start? The first, to release Pietro and Iskra, her purpose in coming to Nebia.

Were they being treated well? Had Iskra's child arrived yet?

Mai, think of Mai.

She frowned. They had tried to bring Mai down. Cut his power. Something struck her then. Something that seemed insignificant at the time, but now pounded from behind a door in her mind. At that last forsaking, Pietro hadn't wilted like the others. She recalled the way he itched his chest in the days before his arrest, again and again. Then she thought of the girl at Cartho, with the slash of red across her sternum—right where her crystal should be. Such a wound would itch like the devil when it healed.

Gods.

Impossible. They couldn't have. Bile burned in her chest and her bones hummed with the realisation, the knowledge they had cut their crystals out. Hoarding their Carnelian Way—no, the Taint. Their ambitions had been impure, dark and twisted. The Carnelian Way and the Taint were the same in the way a man could be a man and a monster both, and they didn't know how to wield it.

Never let your emotions control you, or the Taint may take hold.

She leaned against the edge of the pool, her head resting on the tile-lined edge, and pressed her lips together. An ache formed in her jaw, and she made herself unclench her teeth and exhale. Scanning her body, she relaxed her muscles one by one, the emotion ebbing into the water. She focused her thoughts.