The Ruthless. Peter Newman
there was nothing obvious. If there were any new tattoos, they were tucked somewhere out of sight.
‘I feel the marks on my fingers and remember my first life, where I had touched a lie and refused to let it go, even though it burned me.’
The Bringers did not react, watching her with a searing intensity.
‘I see the mark on my shoulder and remember my fourth life –’ she frowned ‘– and the poor fortune that ended it.’
Again, the Bringers remained quiet, though she suspected they had shared some look at her expense.
‘I feel the mark on my lip and remember my fifth life, and the power of an expressive face.’ Which was a polite way of saying that when she needed to, she could pout people to death. It was still up for debate whether High Lord Tanzanite thought this was a good thing.
‘What is the name of your high lord?’ asked one of the Bringers.
‘What is the name of your Deathless brother?’ asked another.
‘Priyamvada is the name of my High Lord. My Deathless brother is Arkav.’
In her first life she’d had another brother who had lived a normal, single life. To her horror she found his name evaded her.
‘What is wrong with him?’ asked the Bringers together.
Pari’s full body shiver was constrained by the straps. ‘Pardon?’
Only a single Bringer repeated the question: ‘What is wrong with him?’
She sighed to herself. Here is the test.
Arkav had not been himself for several lifecycles now. Her once flamboyant, confident sibling had become prone to dark moods and bouts of misery. More than once, he had cut himself. She had done her best to hide the full extent of this, as had her house, but the Bringers had secret ways. They knew things. It was more than possible they had discovered her secrets.
It was also possible that this was a trick question, designed to get her to bluff. There was no way to know for sure.
A third possibility occurred to her. At a rebirth ceremony, the only ones allowed inside were the vessel, the Bringers of Endless Order, and the Crystal High Lord of the Deathless being reborn; in this case Priyamvada Tanzanite. The last she had heard, her brother had been taken into the High Lord’s care. Perhaps the question about Arkav was being asked for the High Lord’s benefit. Perhaps Priyamvada was lurking behind one of the many pillars, observing.
It did not matter. If Pari failed the test, her brother was doomed. And besides, Pari had grown rather fond of herself over her lives. ‘Nothing is wrong with Arkav,’ she replied, enjoying the way the Bringers leant back in surprise before adding: ‘that I cannot fix.’
There was a pause and then the Bringers stepped forward as one, the gemslight from their wands dazzling. She tensed in preparation, even though there was nothing she could do to defend herself. When they stepped away, the straps had gone from her chest and limbs.
‘Lady Pari Tanzanite is welcome,’ said a Bringer.
‘Welcome,’ echoed the others.
One by one, they left, pausing to nod to her as they did so. She caught a glimpse of peridot eyes within one of the masks, too bright, and was sure she knew them. It was assumed that the Bringers never left their sanctum, save to perform rituals, but masked as they were, no one knew their identities, they could walk freely across the land and never be recognized. They could have lived among the Deathless in secret all these years and no one would know.
Pari had never liked the Bringers. They held too much power for her liking. Their incredibly sinister appearance doesn’t help either. Just what are they hiding under those robes? She suspected the answer would be unpleasant, but that only piqued her curiosity.
When the last of them departed the chamber was plunged into darkness. She sat up on the slab and stretched, relishing the ease of movement. Her last body had lived to a ripe old age, and she had not been kind to it. To sit up, simply to think something and do it was such a joy! She swung down from the slab and, seized by the urge, jumped up and down several times.
Navigating from memory, she felt her way around the circular chamber, past the inner pillars, to the outer ones, until she found the wall. From there it was a simple matter to follow its gentle curve. As she walked, the stone was cold underfoot, but the chill did not reach her joints.
A voice from nearby sapped the happiness from her. Female, deep, cold: ‘Lady Pari.’
Pari dropped to her knees. ‘High Lord Priyamvada, you honour me.’
There was a pause, and Pari felt the rebuttal before she heard it. ‘No.’
Well, she thought, at least I won’t harbour any illusions of false affection.
‘Your boast to the Bringers. You stand by it?’
‘Of course,’ replied Pari. To lie to the Bringers of Endless Order was a crime. They both knew it. My High Lord just wants to make it clear that I’m in her trap.
‘Good. House Tanzanite needs its Deathless in good order, and it has missed Lord Arkav’s full attention.’
‘I would see him.’
‘He waits for you with Lord Taraka.’
‘Lord Taraka? Is there business?’
‘Yes. Prepare for it.’
‘At once.’
Priyamvada had been ancient when Pari first became Deathless and was by far the oldest of their house. She used her words sparingly, and never went anywhere on a whim. Pari’s instincts told her that something else was going on. Her nature led her to ask what it was.
‘While we are alone,’ answered Priyamvada, ‘know that this is Arkav’s last chance. He must add to his legacy or lose it entirely.’
Pari nodded, the gesture lost in the dark. ‘I understand.’ There would be many others vying for the chance to become Deathless. If Arkav was cast out, his Godpiece would soon find a new home.
‘Know too, that if he goes, you will follow.’
‘Forgive me, High Lord, but that I do not understand.’
‘Really? You have left me no choice. Either you will see that Lord Arkav is fit to serve the house, or you have defiled this sacred chamber with your lies.’ She heard the sound of the High Lord moving away. ‘I am fond of your brother. It would be a great sadness to lose him.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Pari.
The great stone door groaned as it opened, spilling light into the chamber. She caught a glimpse of Priyamvada’s silhouette shaking its head, and then she was alone.
There were three exits from all Rebirthing Chambers. One for the Bringers, a second for the Deathless, and a third for abominations. This last one was set into the floor at the far end of the chamber, and led to a sudden drop from the bottom of her floating castle all the way down to the chasm below.
She had used the third once before, in the castle of Lord Rochant Sapphire, and sworn never to again. Even so, it was with great reluctance that she stepped through the second door. She had a feeling that whatever was coming would be far from pleasant.
Sa-at hunched down within the branches, making himself as small as possible. He did not want the people below to see him because he knew they would be scared and run away.
It was rare to see Gatherers from Sagan this far off the path. There were eight of them, doing their best to fill their heavy bags with berries, nuts and yellow funghi. They always travelled in groups and they always moved quickly, nervous faces darting, jumping to every sound. Unlike Sa-at they wore thick clothing and heavy gloves to protect themselves from scrapes and cuts. Even in the daytime it only took the slightest scent of blood to wake the things of the Wild.
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