Page 33 of House of the Beast

Chapter

A s we clattered over cobblestone around the corner into Firmament Square, the buzz of excited chatter began to drift in through the carriage window.

I pulled back the curtain in time to see the court’s banquet hall come into view like a monument set aglow in offering to the gods.

Constructed from pure white stone and lined with pillars two stories high, it certainly looked like a place one would hold festivities for the divine.

Light blazed through the many windows to cut through the dusky gloom, and music spilled from the wide-open doors.

Strings of lanterns lined the streets all the way up to the entrance, and the crowds of devout onlookers clamored beyond them, corralled back by guards to keep the roads clear.

Sleek carriages like the one we currently rode in glided up to the grand stairway, the light reflecting off their polished exteriors.

Lords in crisp suits and ladies in gowns of gauzy silk encrusted with jewels spilled out of them to ascend the stairs—the upper ech elons of Sorrowsend, so glamorous they looked like figures from a fairy tale.

Briefly I wondered what it would have been like to dress up for such an event; to pick out a pretty gown, to find a beau to impress for the evening.

Would I have enjoyed an event like this, if my only task were to eat and drink and dance, instead of prove myself yet again before all these attendees?

When it was our turn to alight, Sevelie exited the carriage first, gracefully taking the hand of the valet who helped her down.

I followed her out, ducking my head to avoid bumping it on the carriage roof—and as I looked back up, I saw that everyone, all the guards standing outside and the court deacons waiting to greet us and the curious passersby, had bowed to me.

I could not deny the slight nervous tremor of my heart at the sight.

I had always known that the people of Kugara worshipped the elder gods and their vessels.

But holed up in my little guesthouse in the Avera estate, I had had little chance to actually experience being at the center of that worship.

At the first trial, the crowds had been an obstacle for me to overcome: a test as much as the trial itself, before which I had to prove myself.

Now I was a Pilgrim and was being afforded the respect of one. It didn’t seem to bother Sevelie, who was sweeping gracefully up the stairs with her skirts clutched in one hand, head held high. But for a moment, the realization of what I was facing rushed to my head, and I felt dizzy.

At least until someone stepped forward—someone I would recognize anywhere. Aster approached the carriage and held his hand out to me like he was one of the valets. Despite his welcoming stance, he looked frustrated. Disappointed.

Cold.

Making sure the movement would not catch anyone’s attention, I took his hand.

He led me gently down the steps of the carriage, and as my feet touched the ground, he slipped his arm smoothly through mine, so we were linked at the elbow.

It felt like we were any other couple about to attend a party together, but he held me in such a way that my posture would not look strange to those who could not see him.

It was a thoughtful gesture—which meant I could not reasonably reject him.

I was at his mercy as we walked toward the grand stairs leading up to the banquet hall.

“What are you doing, Alma?” he asked, not looking at me.

There was no use in pretending not to know what he was referring to. He wanted to know why I had given up my advantage over Sevelie by telling her I would keep her secret.

“I don’t want to make an enemy of her,” I replied quietly, moving my mouth as little as possible. Knights of the Weeping Lady stood on either side of the stairs, bowing to me deeply as I began to ascend. It wouldn’t do to cause a scene here. “I have enough people who want me out of the picture.”

“She declared you her enemy first.”

“And then she took it back.”

“We agreed that you would use her,” said Aster, exasperation clear in the stiff set of his shoulders and the way he would not meet my eye. “But here you are, making friends.”

“We aren’t friends .”

“You gave up an important piece of leverage. I’m only trying to help you.”

“I know,” I bit back. His words left me feeling ashamed, and thus defensive. He was right—I had let go of an advantage, but I didn’t want to take it back. I didn’t want to fight about it either. Not right now, when I had a trial to get through.

His expression gentled and at last he looked at me straight on. “I don’t want to argue. I just want you to be careful.”

“I will be. I’m not stupid,” I said, the words bitter on my tongue. We often bickered, but rarely fought in earnest. Then again, I’d never made such an important decision without consulting him.

I’d simply never had the opportunity to do so before.

My contemplation was cut short as we reached the top of the stairs.

Aster paused, glancing ahead; I followed his gaze into the lobby of the banquet hall.

The Court of Divine Hearers had housed many a previous Pilgrimage ceremony here.

The entrance by itself was made to instill awe, with high vaulted ceilings covered in murals depicting the Great Beyond, from which Kugara’s four elder gods had come.

A statue of the Heavenseer, its gigantic eye mired within beautifully curving tentacles, stood as the centerpiece of a triple-tiered fountain in the center of it all.

The sound of trickling water layered over the chatter of attendees, and from beyond a set of grand doors came the faint music of a chamber orchestra.

The Heavenseer’s likeness brought back the memory of the temple in Merey, where I had been turned away in my hour of need. A sour taste coiled in my throat. Aster did not seem to like it either, for he grimaced.

“Damn,” he said. “I forgot about that. I have to leave you here, Alma.”

“What?” I said, turning to him in surprise. Was he punishing me for fighting with him?

“There are those who would watch me and find my presence disagreeable,” he said darkly.

I glanced at the fountain. No one had ever seen my companion from the stars but me—but maybe a vessel of the Heavenseer might.

I understood his caution. It wouldn’t do to be disqualified here if the court suspected I was too deep into my god-driven mania.

But it didn’t make me feel any better about the fact that Aster was leaving.

I thought of standing before the cynical eyes of Sorrowsend’s finest alone and felt faint. “What about the ceremony?”

“I’m still with you, just—not exactly at your side. Don’t worry about the ceremony. You’ll do fine.”

“You’re just leaving ?”

But he was already gone.

Hurt panged through me at his departure. Despite his reassurances, I could not help the stark feeling of loss. I had been relying on him to ground me, the way he had at the temple in Avera.

He had left on such a sour note too. Irritation replaced the hurt. If he was trying to make me feel guilty for not agreeing with him—well, it was working, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

Steeling myself, I made my way alone through the grand doors and into the banquet hall, where Sevelie was waiting for me by the fountain.

“Took you long enough,” she said as I approached.

I gave her a curt grunt. She looked confused at this, as if she were expecting a warmer response after our moment in the carriage; this, too, sent guilt seeping through me, but I was in too foul a mood to do better.

Hoping she would chalk my brevity up to nerves, I brushed past her and the great stone mass of the Heavenseer’s tentacles and made my way through the lobby.

Attendants as well as various masses of court clergymen all bowed to us as we passed—to me, with my arm of black metal and my sharp black attire, clearly marking me as a Pilgrim of House Avera.

A middle-aged man with a pleasant face in white robes with an embroidered silver surplice, marking him as an important member of the court, stood greeting guests before the main hall. As soon as he spotted me, his face lit up in recognition.

“Lady Alma,” he said. He did not bow, but he did incline his head respectfully.

“I am Cardinal Farthing. I have been tasked with informing you that Lord Maximus is unfortunately unable to make it to the banquet tonight; however, he sends his regards and wishes you and the other Pilgrims of his House the best for the ceremony ahead.”

“My uncle isn’t here?” I asked, feeling off-balance once again.

“He is not feeling well,” said Cardinal Farthing with a regretful smile. “The toll of his piety to the Beast. The rest of House Avera is present, however, and I am sure they are eager to see you. An attendant will lead you to your table.”

At his cue, an attendant of the court in plain white robes scurried over, head lowered in reverence.

We were led past the doors into a great hall with a high domed ceiling, even more lavishly decorated than the lobby.

A double spiral staircase led down from the door to the marble-tiled main floor, where guests mingled, and above it hung a chandelier so laden with crystals the size of apples I feared it would fall.

At the center of the hall was a great depression in the floor, over which was built a magnificent glass dome.

As we drew closer, I realized that the banquet hall itself was a giant mezzanine overlooking the floor below.

That must be where the ceremony of initiation would take place—with the font of umbral water sealed off, so that it would not be touched by mortal hands.

Farther out toward the walls were great round tables where guests were seated. Most of them were filled with noblemen in their fancy dress, but I could see House Metia’s deep blue colors at one, and House Goldmercy’s gray and copper at another.