Chronicles of a Falling Empire [Bloodstained, Bloodshed]

the Ladies play with cards and dice
trading souls, each gets her slice
of mortals over which to reign
so choose a Lady. play her game.

"The Soul Trade," Verse 9

Brid tells me to gather kindling and some small logs from the orchard, and she goes inside to get flint and steel. The fire ring is made up of several large stones, and I pile the assembled wood beside it. She teaches me to form bark into a loose bundle and assembles a teepee of kindling around the tinder. Holding the flint in one hand and a steel striker in the other, she positions them close to the striking point. Striking the steel against the flint at a sharp angle, she directs the sparks toward the tinder, then blows on it. Flame erupts.

"Now you try," she says. "The motion should be firm and swift."

I strike the steel sharply against the flint. On my third attempt, the tinder holds a spark that I blow into flame. We add bits of bark and leaves until the flame grows. Killián and Linden come out of the palazzo, each bearing camp chairs. They set them up around the fire pit. When the flames are devouring the kindling we add a small log, then another. Now I just need to learn how to pitch a tent. That and finish about four essays.

I sit beside Killián in one of the camp chairs he brought out. He cleans a pipe, then extracts a small bag from his pocket and begins to pack it. Lighting a match on the fire, he holds it above the bowl. A sweet smell fills the air, syrupy and cloying. Malloweed. A couple of girls smoked it in the cathouse between johns, but they usually did it outside—I've never been this close to it before.

"Ko," a voice says from behind me—Akeeva.

Killián and I both turn to see my three sisters illuminated by the dim glow of the fire.

Akeeva dips her head politely. "Ila needs to get to bed—we were just leaving. We wanted to say goodbye."

"Will we see you at the Feast of Affection tomorrow?" Killián asks.

Akeeva laughs lightly. "Oh, I doubt we'll be invited to King Audrin's palazzo."

"I'm inviting you."

"You're very kind," she says. "But the rest of the First Circuit is not so welcoming to people who've been where we've been. We'd be out of place—but thank you for the offer."

"Tell Lefe if you change your mind," Killián says.

I get up to hug them. Ila lets me kiss her on the cheeks, and Felicity gives me a firm tap on either shoulder. Akeeva jerks her head toward the pergola where I sat with Brid.

"A quick word, little brother?" she says.

Ila and Felicity move closer to the fire. Akeeva and I make our exit. We sit on the bench and listen to the humming of the bees for a while. When Akeeva speaks, she keeps her voice low and her eyes fixed on the fire by the greenhouse. Even with the bodies blocking it, the glow is easy to discern.

"So," she says. "You're engaged."

I laugh a harsh, bitter laugh.

"Darling?"

I drop my voice. "Brid wants to enlist, not get married. I'm going to do whatever it takes to get her there. I owe it to her."

"Because you were mean?"

"That, and…well." I take a deep breath and keep my gaze on my standard issue combat boots. "She's my friend."

"You've petted lots of cats."

"Brid's not a cat." I nudge her. "Purr for me, Keev."

Light laugh. "Purr purr, little brother."

"You should come to the Feast of Affection tomorrow," I say. "We could find out what happened to Brid Naya'il."

"What are you going to do, break into King Audrin's private quarters and see if you can find his teenage diary?" She shakes her head. "Where I'm sure I paid off my fiancée's killer will be underlined."

"You never know."

"You heard how the retired General Médéric spoke to me." She examines her hands in the moonlight, picks a nailbed. "We don't belong here, Ko."

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"You think I don't get that?"

She changes the subject. "Do you think Killián is nervous about the death duel on Monday?"

"You'd have to ask him."

Akeeva glances at the moon—it's rising fast, almost directly overhead. "I should really get going."

"Thanks for talking to me."

She pulls me into a hug, and I let my head rest on her shoulder for a moment. She smells nice, a soft flowery sort of scent. I go back to the campfire, and my sisters leave. Brid's gone back inside, as has Linden—of the four chairs, only Killián's is occupied. He has a distant sort of half smile on his face; the pipe's been smoked. The cloying stench hangs in the air around the campfire. His lips are moving, but no sounds are coming out.

"Talking to spirits?" I ask.

He looks at me as if he's just noticed I'm there. "They come with many grievances."

"What do they want?"

"Someone who listens."

He looks at me expectantly. I meet his gaze. The firelight is reflected in his tawny eyes—they seem to glow, brown and ominous. I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn't speak. He's so tall and large, even seated—it's intimidating at best and frightening at worst. I don't want to be scared of him—I know he wouldn't hurt me—but out here, alone, it's impossible to not be a little wary. I sit on a camp chair next to him anyway. The fire is burning brightly—two large logs are aglow.

"This will be your job, someday," he says. "Listening to their problems and offering solutions. Counseling catshads—bitter spirits bound to mortal desires, who have yet to be cleansed of their pasts. It's a burden and a privilege."

"I'm marked for death."

"We'll get through this."

I want to believe him.

"The voices of our forebearers have guided us for generations," Killián says. "Without them, we are lost. It's more than culture and tradition—ritual ties us to the divine. Would you like to try it?"

"I don't want to spend my life conversing with voices only I can hear," I say, thinking of Marix. "That sounds like madness."

"I won't force you to consult with the departed." There's amusement in his voice. "That said, there's no reason to be afraid. It's part of the job."

"Do they bring you news from the frontline?"

"Yes, though the time web can … cloud the intel"

"What happens in the time web?"

"First rule of the time web—never ask what's happening."

"Why?"

"It's an easy way to get lost," he says. "Spirits must navigate the golden threads of to appear before me—they get confused. They require my judgement. If you don't know what's happening, you're doing something wrong."

"You judge spirits?"

"I send them where they need to go."

"Where do you send them?"

"Most end up in the Lands of the Dead, forgetting all they once knew and living as shades," he says. "A few—titans, incarnates, conduits—are allowed to keep their memories. Those tend to make the best conversationalists. The rest I send to Hel—few catshads go willingly."

Hel isn't so bad. Marix's voice, a quiet whisper in my mind. You lose human form, but you stay a part of the ecosystem. Eating, drinking, sleeping, mating—that's eternity.

I ignore him—if I wanted to hear voices, I'd have smoked the mallow.

"What's the difference between a conduit and a lord?" I ask.

"All lords are conduits—not all conduits are lords," he says. "Conduits are mortal men who can converse with a titan's essence. Lords are conduits who can speak with a Lady directly—without going through a titan. This occurs by smoking malloweed with one's incarnate…usually."

That raises more questions than it answered. "What made the titans so special?"

"They conquered the time web by putting metaphorical leashes on the beings that live there," he says. "Ladies," he adds at my look of confusion. "Unlike Ladies, the seven titans are confined to linear time and a singular presence whenever they appear. They are people—flawed, violent, powerful people—who still have influence in the Lands of the Living. They are distinctly immortal in this regard. Do you understand?"

"I think so," I say. "I have one other question—it's going to sound stupid."

He takes another puff from his pipe. "Go ahead."

"What is the time web?"

"Not stupid. The time web is a five-dimensional continuum. Four worlds, three dimensions of space, two directions of travel, one dimension of time. It's hard to visualize—Lefe has some sketches he can show you if you're curious. As Ladies move through the web, their presence connects mortals to worlds, events, moments, and other beings—these are the golden threads. Titans are also subject to the Lady's threads, and are thus confined to linear time."

"Thanks for answering."

"Of course," he says. "Is there anything else you want to talk about, Ko?"

I shake my head.

"Are you sure?" he asks. "I'm very used to listening to troubled spirits."

I think about the offer. Maybe I do need to talk—about Marix's voice, which I'm still hearing. About Brid Naya'il and her ridiculous request for me to take down King Audrin. About how I'm nervous I still won't be able to keep up with PT—let alone the academic courseload—once Veneer Week ends. About seeing Leómadura in Bard's office—how he's still around, how he's still a fucking problem, how I'll probably never get over those thirty-seven minutes I spent in his office.

"I'm fine," I say, instead of saying any of that. "Really."

We spread out the coals, he leads me inside, and I take the five flights of stairs up to the guest room.

This time, I won't let myself forget to move the skulls back when I wake up.