Page 58

Sophos

T he raven flaps its wings above the roofs of Xatus, tilting them so the sun illuminates the shine across its black feathers. The note attached to its leg will reach His Grace in a few days and will hopefully put his mind to rest.

I’ve been busy this last week putting our plans into motion—whispering into the right ears and transporting the necessary tools.

I’ve enjoyed my work just as a hunter enjoys the intricacies of setting his traps, knowing that soon the wolf worrying the local flock will be dealt with.

Now I just need to ensure the Grand Bearer doesn’t miss me these last few days as I attend to other important business.

I weave around the clutch of trees that grow on the city’s highest point. I used to come up here all the time as a boy. It was here that I first discovered my second power. I’d been playing around with sound for a few months, but that day, I found I could communicate with the birds too.

Twin-blessed. I’d not heard the term before, but then I was a pitiful, uneducated thing.

Too ignorant to know what it meant for my future.

My mother, meanwhile, had been overjoyed.

Not because her son had been rewarded by the gods.

No, she was more mercenary. She knew the Temple would pay her when they came to claim her child.

I was in acolyte training just a week later. I was six years old.

The trees rustle in the breeze as I walk down the hill, deeper into the heart of Xatus.

The slums have shrunk in the four decades since my childhood, but many of the streets I remember—crime ridden and filthy—still exist. As I turn a corner, I see a gang of ragged teenagers bowl past an old woman, knocking her cane out of her hands.

“Here, ma’am, let me help you,” I hurry forward, picking up the walking stick. But as I reach out to hand it to her, she cowers from me, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“I don’t have anything to steal, so you can get away from me,” she shrieks, exposing her black teeth before she hobbles off as fast as she can.

No, not much has changed in Xatus. Here the strong take from the weak, the sick are left to suffer, and babies cry in back rooms, neglected and ignored.

It had been a shock to go from this cruel, careless world to the white temples of Ethira.

In my training, the clerics taught me this kind of evil flourishes when selfishness combines with a lack of discipline.

Without sacrifice or order to guide people, they give in to their base instincts.

But if we adhere to the rules of the temple, we can transcend our sordid instincts, just as Ethira transcended his mortal form.

The slums thin out, replaced by busy shop fronts and market stalls. I stop by a carpenter’s table, admiring his handiwork.

“I’ll take this,” I say, holding up the toy figures of a wooden cart and horse.

“Something for the little one, eh?” he says with a wink. “He’ll be pleased with that. The wheels turn and everything.”

His familiarity is strange to me. I’m so used to people ducking their heads in respect when I speak to them, offering me blessings in hushed tones. But of course, I’m not wearing my bearer’s robes today. As always, when I come to Xatus, I don’t want to attract notice.

“Thank you,” I say, paying the carpenter and continuing on my way. Eventually, I arrive at the little black door with a basket of posies hanging above it.

“Sophos.” My sister pulls me into a hug when she opens the door, her thin arms squeezing me with surprising strength. “So nice of you to drop in on us again. I know how busy you are.”

“I will always find time for you, Ettia,” I say as we step inside. “How are you doing?”

“Fine, fine,” she says, though she sounds a little breathless.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course.” She brushes her hair out of her face, and I notice dark circles under her eyes. “Olin has been asking after you.”

“He has?” Warmth flares in my chest at the thought, and I offer up the little wooden toy. “I bought him this in the market.”

“Oh, that’s too kind. You’ll spoil him, you know.”

“He’s still young. He’ll have time to learn about the perils of indulgence. For now, I think we can gift him a wagon without fear of corruption.”

I mean it as a joke, but something about my words troubles Ettia.

“Shall we go through?” I suggest when we’ve fallen into an awkward silence.

“Yes, of course,” she says, springing into action.

We move into the little sitting room, and I regret all over again that I can’t put her up somewhere better—not without drawing attention from Temple officials.

It has been four years since I found Ettia, though I’d been searching for her for much longer.

When a child is claimed by the Temple of Ethira, they are meant to cut all ties with their kin so that the Temple can become their new family.

But I never stopped thinking about my sister—that scrawny, resilient little girl I’d left behind in Xatus.

I’d been convinced I could reconnect with her without sacrificing any loyalty to the Temple, and when I became a bearer, with access to more freedom and resources, it felt like the gods were opening the door for me.

I would just check on her, I told myself.

Just to get reassurance she was alive and well.

But when I finally did find Ettia, near starving on the city streets with a newborn clutched to her chest, I knew my destiny was to help her.

Since then, I’ve had to keep my visits to Xatus secret, but I’ve watched her and her son Olin flourish. We find him seated on the rug in the sitting room, his black hair sticking out at odd angles as he chews on a slice of apple.

“Fossy!” he lifts his hands up when he sees me, asking for a hug. I swing him into my arms and watch his eyes sparkle with delight.

“Hello Olin,” I say. “I have a present for you.”

I show him the wagon and enjoy his fascination as he spins the wheels.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off the little wooden contraption. I chuckle.

“Here, let’s put it on the floor and see how far it will go,” I say, placing him down. “Ettia, could I trouble you for a glass of water?”

“Yes,” she says, but she doesn’t move. Olin slides the toy across the rug and makes a frustrated noise when it only rolls a few inches.

“Let’s try moving the rug,” I say, bending down beside him. “It’ll go faster on the wooden floor, I bet.”

I glance up at Ettia, who still hasn’t moved. “Is everything alright?”

She says nothing.

Olin pushes the wagon hard, and it careens toward the wall.

“Look, Fossy! Look how fast!”

The wagon smashes against the plaster, causing the little horse to snap from its twine reins and go flying.

“Oops,” I say, going to pick up the horse. “Maybe moving the rug was a bad idea. Never mind, I’m sure we can fix it.”

But Olin is already distraught, his face crumpling.

Ettia hurries over to him, grabbing his hands.

“It’s alright Olin, it’s alright. Mommy will fix it. Please don’t get upset.”

I frown, because her tone is frantic, panicked tears shining in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, Ettia. It’s only a?—”

But now I see what has her so on edge. Though her hands are wrapped tightly around his fists, they can’t hide the golden glow emanating from between his fingers. I know the color of that light too well.

“Ettia,” I gasp. “Do you know what that is?”

She looks up at me, and the tears stream down her face.

“Please, Sophos, I don’t know how it happened. I swear, we didn’t do anything— he didn’t do anything. It just happened."

“When?” I demand. “When did he first show signs of the gods’ magic?”

“About three weeks ago,” she sobs. “I’ve barely let him out of the house since then. But look at him, Sophos!” She’s clutching Olin to her, the boy staring out at me from under his black hair with large, frightened eyes. “Do you really think he could’ve stolen this power? He’s just a child.”

My heart beats heavily in my chest, and I feel nauseous. A heretic, here, in my sister’s house. I don’t understand how it’s possible. She is a good, gods-fearing woman. I know this. And yet, here Olin is, tainted by stolen magic.

“It must be some kind of accident,” I say, dazed. “Perhaps some neighbor has been leading him astray. Maybe if I just explain to the Grand Bearer?—”

“No!” Ettia screams, grabbing my sleeve. “No, Sophos. I beg you. You know what the Grand Bearer will do. He’ll take him from me, Sophos. I’ll never see him again.”

Olin’s cries rise up above my sister’s sobs, shaking his entire body.

I don’t think he really understands what we’re saying—he’s just scared because his mother is scared.

He’s so small, and I picture him now under His Grace’s hand, the power being drawn from him as he is cleansed.

I hear the crack of his bones as they break and see the red of his blood spreading across a marble floor.

My whole body recoils at the thought.

I stumble into the kitchen, pouring some water to try to settle myself. Ettia follows me. I know she’s staring at me, terrified, waiting for me to pass judgment. I cannot meet her eyes.

Can I bring that fate onto Olin, even if he has stolen celestial power?

But what if that’s the point? Maybe the gods are trying to test my loyalty to the Temple.

“Sophos, please, talk to me,” Ettia says miserably.

“I need to think,” I say after I’ve choked down some water.

It tastes sour on my tongue. “If there’s a way to save him, I will find it,” I say.

“But for now…we should keep this between us. The Temple has its systems in place for good reasons, but sometimes they can lack nuance. I won’t tell anyone about Olin until I’ve found a course of action. ”

I walk over to her, touching her shoulder.

“But you must promise me something in the meantime,” I say.

“What is it?” she asks, her voice a whisper.

“You must stay here, and keep him hidden. Have him wear gloves if you must take him outside. If you leave Xatus, or if the Temple finds out about him first, I won’t be able to help you.”

She nods. “I’ve been praying to the gods every day, Sophos. I know you came today because you’re meant to help us.”

Fear coils in my gut. I hope she’s right to put her faith in me. Because as I look into Olin’s face, so young and innocent, I find my own faith shaken to the core.