A Queen of Ice (A Trial of Sorcerers #5)

Chapter 27

27

T here was no one in the woods, or the open fields beyond. Eira led them down to the road, keeping the hood of her cloak up. Ducot was still in mole form, but now rode on Olivin’s shoulder. The rest of them had opted for clothing that mostly concealed their faces. Alyss wore a headscarf that also served to keep the sun off of her. Cullen’s shirt had a high collar. Olivin looked the most normal of them all but, like Eira, whenever they passed another traveler an illusion sank over his face, aging him slightly, shifting his hair color. But there were few people on the road.

They moved much like they had in Carsovia, sleeping off to the side in grasses, trees, and, when available, barns or sheds. There was little conversation each day and night.

Which made the first real conversation they all had with each other feel odd as they slowed upon seeing a town in the distance.

“That should be Hokoh.” Olivin stole Eira’s words.

She’d intentionally guided them past the larger port in Parth. While her parents had said the Pillars had yet to infiltrate the city when they’d stopped in, Eira didn’t trust that would still be the case. But she didn’t dare venture past Hokoh, knowing Ulvarth would have regular patrols in the bay of Meru.

“It looks large.” Alyss adjusted her headscarf one too many times to not be nervous. “Should we go around it? It looks like the forests arc behind.”

“The long way would add on another week.” Olivin shook his head and spoke with an air of authority that grated on Eira. “We should go straight through. The road is the easiest path and we might even be able to find a merchant cart making their way to Risen.”

“I’d be keen to not have to walk all the way to Risen,” Yonlin murmured. Eira disliked the idea of trusting someone else to cart them to Risen. But it was a pointless argument when it remained only a hypothetical.

“Eira?” Cullen looked to her, noting her silence.

“The forest would be the safer route…but I think we should go through,” Eira reluctantly said. “It will give us an opportunity to see if we can learn something about the state of Risen.”

“And perhaps get caught.” Alyss was still unconvinced.

“If we’re sloppy enough that they catch us here, then going to Risen is pointless as we’re already doomed,” Olivin said with a note of severity.

“Optimistic.” Alyss gave him a sidelong glance.

“Realistic. At some point, we’ll have to face the Pillars. We should be ready for it.”

“Olivin is right, if we can’t navigate here then we’re not ready for Risen,” Eira said. Just as Alyss looked like she was about to object, Eira added, “But we should still be careful and make sure we don’t rush into anything.”

Unease had her every footstep falling heavier than the last as they neared the city. Meru was dotted with settlements and towns, but Hokoh was an ancient city that had been here for hundreds of years. Over time, its occupants had invested in its defense, likely from the long-ago warring duchies period. The one that Lumeria’s lineage ended.

She scanned the gates ahead of them. There was someone sitting up on the wall, seemingly casual, as if he was nothing more than an occupant of the town taking a moment to breathe in the fresh air. But he watched them like a hawk from his perch. She worked not to pay him too close attention, keeping her head down.

The hair on her neck and arms was on end the moment they passed through the gates. It was several times worse than when they had been infiltrating the town in Carsovia. There, Eira didn’t have to worry much about being recognized. Somehow, the stakes seemed…lower. Perhaps because she was more removed from Carsovia’s struggles. It wasn’t personal like this was.

Or perhaps this was the first time she was seeing the mark of the Pillars in months, a reminder that Ulvarth’s end was within reach.

The Pillars had slithered into Hokoh like vipers and had made it their den. Their mark was emblazoned on almost every door in golden paint—three vertical lines centered overtop three interlocking circles, stacked vertically. The doors that lacked the symbol had a black X streaked across them, windows shattered, insides dark and smelling of rot.

The message was clear: align or die.

Yet, despite the brutality, people went about their business. They walked in the streets, conversed on stoops. Commerce bustled in small squares down side alleys.

The Pillars’ presence was as bad a stink as what originated from some of the houses. But, like all wretched things, one could acclimate to it. And acclimate people had. There were smiles and laughter. Children running around their parents’ hems.

“Why does it feel so…normal?” Alyss whispered.

“The towns in Carsovia felt normal, too.” Cullen’s thoughts were aligned with Eira’s.

“That—they—” Alyss could only sigh, abandoning her objection.

“Let’s get somewhere with more people,” Eira said. “See what we can overhear.”

They followed her down toward a small square where tables had been placed opposite a handful of shops. Men and women sat outside, drinking from tall glasses. People roamed from shop to shop, full baskets on their hips.

“Eira,” Cullen whispered, catching her hand. She shifted, turning toward what he was trying to get her attention on.

In an alcove, with mortar so fresh it was a bright, stark contrast to the old stone of the buildings around it, was a statue. The visage of the Goddess Yargen was a familiar one: an ethereal and timeless beauty, her long, flowing hair framing her outstretched arms. Behind her were the three circles and one singular line that was her usual symbol—but of course two extra lines had been added. That wasn’t the only change. Kneeling in front of the goddess on one knee, holding a sword aloft, was a man whose face Eira would recognize anywhere. Even in a hastily made sculpture.

Ulvarth .

In time with the bitter echo of his name across her mind, the resonance of a low bell chimed across the city. All conversation stopped. People halted their movements.

As if in a trance, everyone rose from their tables, moving toward the statue and sinking to their knees. Not wanting to stand out, Eira did the same, her friends following. All those in the square circled the statue, heads bowed. With one voice, the entirety of Hokoh intoned:

“Goddess Yargen, holder of our past, present, and future, guide us through these dark times. Bless your chosen champion so that he might be strong and just. So that his sword might strike down the evils that still plague these lands, banishing them with the might of your light.

“Praise to Champion Ulvarth, to the Pillars of Truth, Justice, and Light—the foundation of Meru—to which we pledge our unending fealty and praise forevermore.

“From this day, until the last day of oblivion, we swear these words.”

Eira kept her head down the entire time, trusting her hood to conceal the fact that she wasn’t speaking along. Trusting it to hide her wide eyes and furrowed brow. Her jaw that was clenched so tightly it might pop. Her knuckles dug into the cobblestones, leaving behind red smears.

Ulvarth had continued doing what he’d always done—positioning himself as a goddess’s chosen. But now he was doing it with all of Meru and forcing them to acknowledge him as such. Repeated enough times, anything could become truth. Especially when, as soon as the words were said, everyone could stand and return to their business as though nothing had happened.

Eira shared wary looks with her group. They were all thinking the same things, though none of them dared vocalize it.

“We should keep going,” she said for them all. Even though the words gave nothing away, and weren’t inherently suspicious, she still kept her voice down. “The sooner we get through town, the better.”

They continued along the streets and narrow alleyways, heading in the general north, northwest direction that would lead them to Risen. Eira kept them intentionally on back alleys. More than once, she saw Pillars patrolling the streets, their white and gold-trimmed robes unmistakable.

Just when she was thinking that, overall, their luck couldn’t have been better, it ran out.

She took one wrong turn and found herself face-to-face with a Pillar. The woman’s shaved head shone in the afternoon sun. Eira’s gaze dropped instinctively to her right hand, where the symbol of the Pillars had been carved, over and over, to permanently entrench itself as a pale and raised scar.

Turning around would be too suspicious, especially with five of them. Eira continued walking, trusting the illusion she’d crafted to alter her appearance to be sufficient—that if it wasn’t, they’d all be dead already. The alleyway was small and it was impossible to pass by without twisting slightly. Eira’s eyes met the Pillar’s. She wondered if the woman could feel the chill sweeping off her body from the illusion over her face.

But the woman didn’t stop. She turned forward. Eira kept her attention forward as well. It was so quiet that she could hear every shift of the woman’s robes. All their breaths were shallow, or held.

Just when Eira was about to turn the far corner, and the woman would’ve emerged onto the larger street she was headed for, she spoke. “For the glory of His Holiness.”

Eira froze. She shifted, half turning, eyes meeting the Pillar’s. The woman wore a somewhat skeptical, probing expression. She was suspicious of them. What had given them away? Was it their clothes? Had she seen that they hadn’t spoken the prayers?

Or was this simply something that was said whenever a Pillar was passed? And the longer Eira remained silent, the more suspicion she drew to herself, and to them?

Her mind moved faster than a light ship in a gale. She was back in that forsaken throne room deep beneath Risen. Pillars surrounded her. The first time she had seen Ulvarth. What had they said then?

“Respect, revere, fear,” Eira said as soon as it popped into her mind. It had to have only been a second that had passed.

The woman’s eyes widened. “May you be worthy,” she whispered, as if correcting. Eira saw realization dawn on the woman’s face that something was out of place about them. The Pillar took a step forward, a sinister smile curling her lips. In another moment of time, Eira saw Ferro approaching her.

Her stomach curdled but Eira remained calm. “May I be worthy,” Eira repeated and lowered her eyes. “Forgive me.”

“Are you new to Hokoh?” The Pillar shifted and then slowly approached. “If so, you should come with me. I will take you to our Temple. Once you say the rites, you will be part of our glorious family of Meru. One, holy, triumphant kinship in Yargen’s name and for her Champion.”

“Apologies, we have somewhere to be. Perhaps tomorrow.”

“Once you are part of the fold, you will never know hardship again.” She continued forward, even as Eira took a step back. There was a coaxing coo to her words. Not an outright order, but the threat of danger was present should Eira refuse. “Under his loving gaze, no one on Meru shall go hungry. There will be no crime, no suffering. Come, let us feed you and give you warmth and shelter. We shall show you his way.”

“Perhaps later.” Eira instinctively positioned herself between the woman and her friends. Yonlin had shifted his stance, hand on his hip by the pistol. Olivin and Cullen were at the ready. Ducot was still in his mole form, perched on Olivin’s shoulder. But he could be back to his normal self in an instant. Alyss already had her palm braced against a wall. “We would be most enthusiastic to worship at his temple once our matters are handled.”

The woman lifted her hand, resting it on Eira’s shoulder in a friendly gesture. But her eyes were all sinister. Eira could see nothing but a Pillar looking to drag her back to their forsaken houses of worship.

“If you are not one of our holy family, then you are a scourge on these lands that must be removed. Are you a scourge, my sister of Yargen?”

There was only so much a woman could abide. Eira never broke her stare with the Pillar. She hardly moved most of her body. But her arm was faster than the woman had been expecting, Eira’s movements sure, confident. With one thrust, she plunged a dagger of ice through the woman’s gut.

She barely had time to crack her lips. Eira doubted the first wave of pain had crashed against her awareness when she moved with her other arm, the Pillar’s hand falling from her shoulder. Before the woman could scream—before she could even gulp for air—Eira gouged out her throat without so much as flinching.

The Pillar collapsed to the ground, dead, instantly.

Eira stepped back, dismissing the daggers of ice. They fell as bloody rain from her hands, collecting in the cobblestones. Turning, she faced her friends and said calmly, and simply, “We should move.”