Page 103 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)
LYDIA
“My gods,” Lydia breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Captain Vane sailed the Kairense through the gap in the sea wall, the expanse of Revat spreading out beyond and overlooked by seven towers so tall, she’d seen them when they were still hours away from the coast. Revat’s sprawl of buildings rivaled even Celendrial in scope, and the capital of Celendrial had upward of a million people living in it.
A backward glance revealed the sea walls were adorned with intricate carvings of sea creatures that resembled Magnius and his brethren, as well as depictions of the Six, instantly recognizable even though their visages were Gamdeshian.
It had been the same in Anukastre, the Six appearing differently to different people, only Madoria and Gespurn remaining the same.
She’d learned more about the gods and their marked during the crossing, the Kairense ’s diver, Fara, warming up to her enough that she’d explained Madoria’s mark, which was only given to the Maarin.
She also told Lydia that Gespurn only ever marked the giants of Eoten Isle, their number always twelve and their duty to maintain the doldrums that made the Endless Seas impassable.
“East must not meet West,” Fara said, then shook her head. “Yet for all our efforts, the East is here now.”
Lydia pulled herself from memory as she took in the dozens of docks in the harbor. Ships of every nation filled the spaces, the sailors working upon them of every nationality in the West. The biggest trading port in the world, Lydia had been told, the people a tapestry of this half of Reath.
Darkness was beginning to settle when she and Sonia finally disembarked, but though the harbor market was busy with trade beneath countless strings of light, Lydia immediately sensed a nervous tension to the city. As though something bad had happened and worse was expected to come.
“Marked One,” said the small Gamdeshian woman waiting for them on the dock after she bowed low. “We’ve been expecting you. Your companions are waiting for you in the Great Library, but the Sultan sends his regrets that he cannot attend, for he is occupied with a matter of some importance.”
“Has something happened?” Lydia asked, glad that Malahi and Agrippa had not revealed to anyone her change of station.
The woman’s shoulders curved in a slump, expression grim. “Emrant has fallen to the Cel invaders.”
“What?” demanded Sonia. “How is that possible? Where was Kaira?”
“General Kaira, may the Six protect her, was in Emrant when it happened,” the woman answered. “It is a tale of duplicity that I’ll leave her to tell.”
Sonia’s steps faltered. “She’s here?”
The woman nodded. “Marshaling our forces to march on the Cel.” She motioned for them to follow her into the city, three large men with heavy cudgels forming up around them as a guard.
“The leader of the Cel army not only refuses to leave Emrant; he has demanded the abdication of the Sultan on the threat of war. The Cel have expanded their ranks through the xenthier stem they now control. It is said that they plan to take Revat by force, but until Astara returns, we have no fresh news.”
“Astara is marked by Lern,” Sonia murmured to Lydia. “She has long been Kaira’s eyes in the sky, and she travels quickly.”
Except so did the legions.
Lydia clenched her teeth. The timing between the Cel threat growing and Rufina marching farther south wasn’t a coincidence.
The Corrupter seemed intent on trapping the twin hearts of the West, Revat and Serlania, between two hosts, and if she and Malahi didn’t find answers, defeat wasn’t a possibility.
It was an inevitability.
“Will the Sultan evacuate Revat?” she asked, her heart aching because where could they go? Where on Reath was safe?
“It is not yet known what Sultan Kalin will do,” the woman replied. “Our lives are in the hands of the Six.”
“In Kaira’s hands,” Sonia murmured, meeting Lydia’s gaze. “If the Cel march on Revat, she’ll make them bleed every step of the way.”
Of that, Lydia had no doubt, but as her eyes skipped around the god towers to land on the shiny black spire of the Seventh, she couldn’t help but fear it wouldn’t be enough.
The library was at the heart of the city, and if not for the fact it was encircled by the god towers, it might well have been the tallest building Lydia had ever seen.
Made of richly hued sandstone, it seemed to shimmer in the glow of the moonlit night, a spire of knowledge that gleamed like a beacon of enlightenment—and answers—in the darkness.
Expected as they were, no one moved to interfere as they passed through the ornate entrance.
Like the sea wall, it was adorned with carvings of the Six but also of scenes reminiscent of the drawings in Treatise, causing Lydia to believe they were famous individuals with god marks.
Teak doors swung open ahead, welcoming them into a circular space with a stone floor marked with constellations.
The scent of paper and ink mixed with the perfume of incense inspired a sense of reverence within Lydia, especially as Sonia nudged her elbow and motioned up.
And up.
The tower was hollow, each level a ring reached by a circular staircase that wound round and round, all the way up to the glass-domed ceiling far above.
“It’s an observatory,” Sonia said. “With devices formed of magnified glass that allow one to see stars that are invisible to the naked eye.”
“Miraculous.” Lydia turned in a circle, her eyes filling with endless shelves of books and scrolls on each level, what had to be hundreds of Gamdeshians scurrying among them or seated at tables, pouring over books and scrolls and documents.
“The Sultan has ordered the library guild to hunt for information under the guidance of the Lady Malahi after she arrived this morning,” the woman said. “All have been working ceaselessly, for everyone understands that the fate of Reath rests on discovering a remedy for the blight.”
“I thought I heard your voice.”
Lydia looked up to see Agrippa hanging over the railing on the eighth level. He waved at her. “Quit gaping; there’s something we need you to look at.”
With Sonia on her heels, Lydia took the steps two at a time with no care for propriety—she’d heard the excitement in Agrippa’s voice.
Please be an answer, she prayed. Please let there be hope.
Reaching the eighth level, she didn’t waste time on a greeting. “Tell me you found something.”
“We did,” he said. “Not a single scholar in this place can read the language, but Lydia, it has the same drawings as the caves in Anukastre.”
Excitement flooded her, and she followed Agrippa through the stacks. He was visibly tired, his eyes bloodshot and marred by shadows, his normally clean-shaven skin stubbled, and his clothes and fingers were stained with ink. Yet for all of that, Agrippa moved with energy and purpose.
“Do you wish to seek out Kaira?” Lydia asked Sonia. “I think I’ll be safe enough on my own, and it would be good to have information from the source.”
Sonia’s dark eyes went wide. “I… Well, I’m not certain that’s the best plan. We… Well, I didn’t say the kindest of things when last I saw her.”
Lydia knew that the two had once been lovers but that Kaira’s commitment to Gamdesh had driven a wedge between them. “Then perhaps it’s time to make amends.”
While you still can.
Sonia gave a tight nod and retreated back down the stairs.
Lydia followed Agrippa inside the room, finding Malahi seated at a table surrounded by stacks of books and radiating a frenetic energy despite being as exhausted as her husband.
“Thank the gods, you’re here,” Malahi said at the sight of her.
“I was worried you wouldn’t be able to get away. Where’s Killian?”
“He’s with Dareena, helping her maintain her disguise for as long as possible. Sonia is with me in his stead.”
“He’ll hate that.” Malahi turned to stare at the piles of books, eyes blank, then she shook her head. “Sorry, there’s so much to tell you, I don’t know where to start.”
“Agrippa mentioned you’d found a book with illustrations.”
“Yes. Yes, that would be a good choice, though we are at a loss as to what it says. Here.” Rising, Malahi tugged Lydia over to a table on which a glass case sat, then handed her a pair of white cotton gloves.
“It’s ancient and very, very frail. Their best guess is that it’s at least a thousand years old. ”
Lydia donned the gloves, then carefully lifted the case.
The book was made of cracked leather edged with silver, holes from a binding marring the cover though the bindings themselves were lost to time.
As gently as she could, Lydia opened the volume, cringing as bits of parchment and ink flaked away.
Turning the pages, Lydia held her breath as she took in images so very similar to what they’d seen in Anukastre, though these hadn’t weathered the years nearly as well.
Pages were cracked, some missing, the ink faded so badly that she motioned for someone to hold up better light despite her fear of flame being anywhere near the precious volume.
But whereas the cave paintings had been nothing but images, this book had text.
And Lydia could read it.
“I know this language,” she murmured. “In my linguistic studies, I focused on dead languages of the East. This language is called Arcanith, and it is what the modern form of Cel is derived from, though the ability to read one does not help much with reading the other.”
“I knew it!” Agrippa shouted, causing Lydia to jump, the corner of the page she was holding crumbling.
He winced. “Sorry. I can’t read it, but I knew I’d seen something like this in the library at Lescendor.
That library is mostly military history and commentary, but Marcus was always digging out obscure books to read in his free time.
We tried to jump him… Well, never mind that, but this was the language of the book I took from him.
I guarantee he knows what this says, and”—he glanced at the window—“in another few weeks we can ask him to do us the favor of translating while he lays siege to the city.”
“You think they’ll come, then?”
Agrippa shrugged. “The trouble with making threats is that you need to follow through on them. Marcus said if Sultan Kalin didn’t surrender, he’d take Revat by force. The Sultan shows no interest in surrender.”
Malahi gave a grim nod. “Kaira lost Emrant to the Cel without a fight. They tricked her, and last word is that they’ve doubled the size of their army using a path between the Empire and Emrant.”
“He didn’t trick her so much as put her in an impossible position,” Agrippa said, shaking his head.
“Kaira is Gamdesh’s protector, and Marcus marched fifteen thousand legionnaires on Emrant, showing every sign that he intended to lay siege.
Even if Kaira suspected his real target, she had no choice but to put everything she had into protecting the people.
” He sighed. “It’s always easier to be the aggressor, because in the worst case, you retreat.
When you’re on the defense, there is nowhere to go that won’t cost you everything. ”
“Better to pay with possessions than to pay with lives. Why isn’t the Sultan evacuating Revat?
” Lydia demanded, feeling once again as she had when Mudaire had been under threat by Rufina’s host. Too easily she remembered Serrick’s resistance to evacuation, and so many lives had been lost as a result.
“He has faith in Kaira.” Malahi sat on a chair, shoulders slumped. “And he believes that evacuating will show a lack of confidence, not just in her, but in the Six.”
“It’s foolish,” Lydia muttered. “But we have to leave the Cel problem to Gamdesh while we focus on our own enemies. This book suggests to me that we are on the right track.”
“What does it say?” Malahi asked, the spark returning to her eye. “What do I need to do?”
“It’s an account of a scholar who traveled here from the East,” Lydia murmured as she read.
“Some of it is illegible, but it appears he was from what is now northern Celendor. And he came by ship.” She shook her head, leaving that piece of information for later consideration.
“And by here, I don’t mean Gamdesh. He was visiting a nation called…
” She frowned. “I can’t make it out, but he describes a land once lush but now turned to rot. It has to be Anukastre.”
Falling silent, Lydia carefully flipped through the pages detailing his journey and meeting with the people.
“He describes certain people as ‘dirt thieves,’ which is perhaps not a good translation, but I think he means corrupted tenders, because he discusses them as betrayers of the land. This picture”—she gestured to a human-shaped figure with black lines spreading out from its fingers into the ground—“is one he copied from the Anuk, and this is just like what I saw in Deadground. He says that the ‘dirt thieves’ steal the life from the land to feed themselves, for they no longer consume sustenance as would a human. What is left behind is the… absence of life. The blight.”
“He’s right,” Malahi said. “There’s nothing alive within it. Nothing I could make grow.”
Lydia turned another page, then another, piecing together visible words though so many were faded to nothing.
“The Anuk hunted down the ‘dirt thieves’ and killed them, but the blight remained and it continued to spread. Continued to consume. The ‘growers’ gathered to combat it, which they did. It worked, and the blight was vanquished. But there was a cost.”
“What cost?” Agrippa demanded. “What happened to them?”
Lydia turned to the last page, which contained no drawings, only text, her stomach hollowing.
“What. Cost?” Agrippa repeated.
“The tenders died,” she finally answered, noting that the text stopped midsentence, suggesting that there’d once been more pages but that they were lost. “Every last one of them.”