Page 49 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams (Fated to the Sun and Stars #3)
Sophos
I roughly drag my knife through the rare cut of beef, watching the bloody juices seep across my plate.
Food like this has become much more challenging now that I have to eat with one hand, but I didn’t dare argue with the menu.
I switch implements to spear a piece of the meat, and when I lift my fork, a droplet of pink liquid drips from the edge, landing on the white tablecloth.
I look up at the Grand Bearer sitting at the other end of the table. He’s already cleared his plate, but I don’t have much appetite.
Dining at the high temple is usually a simple affair.
Not when it comes to the food, of course—which is always fit for a king—but when the Grand Bearer requests my company for dinner, I’m not required to be a particularly entertaining guest. Mostly, I sit and listen politely to whatever wisdom His Grace wishes to bestow on me and ask pertinent questions about the Temple’s plans.
Today, however, I wonder if the Grand Bearer has invited me with ulterior motives.
His communication with me has been sparse lately, and that’s unsettling.
I was hoping this dinner might shed some light on the reason for this change, but as the conversation continues, I realize I may have to take the first steps .
Still, I must tread lightly. It would be unwise to forget who I’m dealing with.
“I was glad to hear the coronation went off without a hitch, Your Grace,” I say lightly, taking a sip of my wine. “Though I admit I was surprised you changed your mind and decided to attend in person after all.”
His Grace watches me with amusement in his dark eyes. “And why would that be surprising, Bearer Sophos? It’s important the Temple maintains a strong friendship with the Trovian monarch, so naturally I wanted to show my support to Queen Oclanna.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” I say, deciding not to point out that the Grand Bearer didn’t attend the previous queen’s coronation, nor has he been to any events at the palace for decades. “I just wasn’t aware you had any plans to leave the holy city, and Elmere is a long way to travel.”
It upset me when I heard the news, mostly because not knowing His Grace’s movements makes me uneasy.
He still wears an amused expression, and I wonder if he suspects some of the motivation behind my comment. He always was able to read me. I thought it a kind of divine gift once. It took me far too long to realize it was actually just a skill for manipulation.
“My dear Sophos,” he dabs his mouth with a napkin.
“I know it must pain you not to always feel like the favorite. But since Bearer Polis’s murder in Hallowbane, I’ve been reminded that most people are inherently weak of mind and will.
They so easily become liabilities to the Temple, spilling our precious secrets.
Therefore, I must be more cautious in sharing my plans with others. Even you.”
I blink at him, unsure how he wants me to respond. I settle for bland agreement.
“I defer to your wisdom, Your Grace.”
“And it transpires I was right to exercise that caution. The Hand of Ralus attempted a move against the queen the night before her coronation. Several of our cleavers were killed in the palace grounds, though we crushed their forces, of course. ”
“Of course, Your Grace,” I reply. We sit in silence for a moment as I struggle to finish my food. So far, my gentle probing hasn’t gotten me in trouble. I risk pushing a little further.
“I was thinking, Your Grace, that Queen Oclanna’s new position will make things much easier for you.”
“It already has.” The Grand Bearer smiles, a glimmer of excitement in his dark eyes. “Oclanna was most helpful providing access in the royal territories. In fact, I have something to show you.”
He rises from the table and crosses the room. I put my fork down, glad that dinner seems to be over. His Grace goes to a sideboard, opening a carved mahogany box which has clearly been left out on the top for him.
I rise, sensing I’m meant to join him, and as I approach, I see that he’s holding a small glass vial full of crimson liquid.
“I predicted you’d want a demonstration, Sophos, so I have organized for a volunteer. Fetch the acolyte,” he calls to one of the servants at the door.
“It took a lot of work to find the right team of healers—most exiled dryads are exiled for a reason, my dear Sophos. Then, sourcing the necessary ingredients took weeks. After that, it was a lot of trial and error.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but there’s nothing to be gained from admitting that. “It sounds like it was quite the challenge, Your Grace,” I say. I hear footsteps in the corridor outside, and my gut lurches. Whatever this demonstration is, I doubt it will be pleasant.
“Only for those who don’t have the gods on their side, Sophos,” His Grace says generously. “I knew it was only a matter of time until we got the mixture right.”
The servant shows in an acolyte, his yellow robes too small on his gangly frame. He can’t be more than fifteen, and I find I can’t look the boy in the eye.
The Grand Bearer approaches him, the liquid in the vial shining under the incendi lamps.
“Now, my boy, I have one question for you. ”
The acolyte looks up with eyes as wide as saucers, clearly astounded that his holiness the Grand Bearer is addressing him directly.
“Are you willing to perform the task the gods demand, and sacrifice yourself to be rewarded in the Eternal Realm?”
The boy swallows. “Yes, Your Grace.” He’s so young his voice cracks as he talks. “It would be the highest honor.”
Down by his sides, the boy’s hands are shaking. He’s nervous, but he’s faithful—it would never occur to him to question or doubt the awe-inspiring Grand Bearer.
“Indeed it would,” Caledon agrees.
“Your Grace,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual. “Would it not be simpler to just explain to me what the potion does?”
“Nonsense, Sophos,” the Grand Bearer replies without looking at me, unstoppering the vial. “With all that effort, it would be a waste for you to not see it in action. An insult to the gods even.” Now he turns, fixing me with a hard stare. “After all, this ingenious elixir is a gift from them.”
I bow my head, penitent. “Of course, Your Grace.”
He passes the potion to the boy, who hesitates for just a moment before he empties the vial down his throat. He gags and coughs, trying to apologize through his spluttering.
“I’m sor—sorry Your Grace. It’s a little bit?—”
His words are interrupted by a rattling gasp inward as he falls to his knees. The boy cries out, ripping at his robes and writhing on the floor as if his bones are trying to escape his body. His face is screwed up in pain until his eyelids fly open, revealing raw, bloodshot eyes.
The Grand Bearer stands over him, watching patiently until the boy’s moans soften into whimpers and he stops moving. Then His Grace nudges him with his foot.
“Stand up, boy,” he orders.
The acolyte begins to climb to his feet, moving so slowly it’s like he’s aged sixty years. He can’t straighten fully, staying hunched over as he looks up at the Grand Bearer with his inflamed eyes. A trickle of blood runs from his right nostril.
“Now, I’m told you are an aquari,” His Grace says to the boy. “What form do your powers take?”
“I can absorb water, or double its quantity, Your Grace,” the boy croaks, his voice nothing more than a rasp.
“Impressive. How much water?”
A few tears trickle from the corner of the boy’s reddened eye.
“The most I’ve ever managed is a gallon, Your Grace.”
The Grand Bearer glances at me with a pleased expression.
“Then why don’t you come through to the reflecting pool, and we’ll see how much you can absorb now?”
The boy shuffles behind us, every step seeming to pain him.
Frankly, I’m not sure how he remains standing.
We reach the edge of the pool, which stretches nearly fifty feet long.
I’m reminded of being a small child, swimming in the river with my sister.
I used to love to hold my breath and stay underwater as long as I could, relishing the way the water muffled the rest of the world.
I wish I could climb into the water right now and not have to see or hear any of this.
Instead, I watch as he gestures for the boy to go ahead.
The acolyte bends, dangling his fingers into the water, then he closes his eyes, soothed by the chance to commune with his element. The fizz of magic radiates across the surface, making ripples in the otherwise still pool.
There’s a slap as water starts to move, swelling against the marble sides. These small waves turn into circles and begin to spin, until the water is drawn downward into a whirlpool centered around the boy’s hand.
I watch in awe and fascination as the liquid disappears beneath his touch, draining the entire pool in less than a minute.
“Marvelous,” the Grand Bearer smiles. “Isn’t it marvelous, Sophos?”
“It’s incredible, Your Grace,” I say .
But the acolyte has no reaction to his amazing feat. He simply stares at the empty marble box in front of him, head slumped slightly forward.
“Now your other power, boy,” the Grand Bearer orders.
The boy obediently flexes his fingers, then water starts to gush forth from his hand like a faucet, spurting out at such a rate that it throws mist into the air.
The stream soon becomes a flood, a huge wave rolling across the pool and hitting the other side with a spray of droplets.
The boy keeps going, the water rising up the sides until the pool is filled to the brim.
Even then, the Grand Bearer says nothing, his eyes bright as the water floods over the edge, running across the floor.
Only when the water seeps beneath our feet does he speak.
“That’s enough.”
The acolyte pulls back his hand, cutting off the flow of water. Despite the immense power he just demonstrated, when he stands, his body seems even more frail and pained than before.
“You see, Sophos? Morgana Angevire had to take this potion for years before it amplified her powers. But we have managed to accelerate the process so that it works after just one dose.”
“Astonishing,” I murmur, my eyes flicking to the boy’s bloody face. “Are there any adverse side effects?”
“Well of course,” His Grace sighs, as if I’m a fool for asking the question.
“Taking such a powerful concoction at these concentrated levels causes the organs to tear themselves apart. Most die within two days—no one has lived longer than four. But that doesn’t matter much for our ends.
An ordinary person with so much power would be an abomination to the gods, and therefore we must cleanse them and send them to their rightful resting place. ”
He turns to the acolyte. “Thank you, my boy,” he says, and before the youth can answer, the Grand Bearer lays a hand across his head.
The boy screams, and I look away. I have seen this done before, back when I believed the Grand Bearer was undergoing a great sacrifice himself .
It disturbed me even then, when I thought the victims were heretics deserving of punishment, but that was nothing compared to my horror now.
This poor child…he was condemned the moment that potion touched his lips.
I steady myself against the nearest wall as subtly as I can, trying not to hear the splash as the boy hits the floor, counting the moments until his body stops twitching. I stare straight ahead, attempting to soothe my horror with prayers, until I realize the Grand Bearer is speaking to me.
“It may seem excessive to you, Sophos, but I assure you this was necessary,” he says, brushing his hands together as if to wipe off some residue after touching the boy. “Our enemies are only becoming more powerful. To follow the will of the gods, I must prepare myself to face this new evil.”
“And this potion is the first step, Your Grace?” I ask.
“One of many, dear Sophos. With it, we will defeat the heresy in our land. Even right now, our clerics are scouring villages and towns from the northwilds to the southern coast to gather all the components we need.”
My already unsettled stomach lurches, because I have a strong sense that the Grand Bearer isn’t just talking about ingredients. Worse than that, he named the northwilds—a place where I have been not too long ago. The very area where I’ve hidden my sister and her solari son.