The Dukes of Odwego finds Astra (secret necromancer, former nun, and displaced librarian of Qordashi) drifting ever farther from the only life she knew and deeper into a world she never expected to see. The powerful, winding Hoshikwazu river leads her, her injured best friend Traz, and the ever-enigmatic Xavai to a city that glitters with wealth but reeks of corruption. Within its walls, sour magic whispers, alliances shift like silt, and every kindness hides a price. To save the people she loves, Astra must rely on her wits, her courage, and maybe, maybe, a little necromancy.
Previously: Astra was told stories she never read before...
The days passed slowly with no change other than Traz’s slow improvement. Every morning, Astra got up and went to the palace to work on the translations. While the Doonrag treatises were not long, they were, in typical Doonrag fashion, esoteric and complex. One of Astra’s teachers at the monastery had once said that reading any Doonrag philosopher’s works was like peeling an onion with one eye closed: what should be simple was a confusing and complex chore that usually ended in tears.
Astra more than once wished that the dukes had wanted her to translate Episesh fairy tales, or even plain Deshilli books on the economics of trade. Anything but what she had to spend hours over, parsing and pulling apart meanings to try to recreate them in a different language.
She never saw the dukes, which she thought only a little odd. The magistrate welcomed her each morning, and soldiers escorted her out each afternoon. After a couple of days, she realized that at least one item had disappeared from the vault. She waited all morning, filled with terror, for the magistrate to walk in and accuse her of theft, since she was the only person she ever saw in the archives other than the magistrate and the soldiers who escorted her. It never happened, but she kept a sharp eye out for anything that might implicate her.
Ten days later, she was just starting on the second book and was looking forward to leaving, even though tenth bell was still a ways off. She stretched out her back, arms over her head, and only then realized that the guard who was always stationed at the door was gone. Startled and wary, she got up and crept up to the doorway, wondering if it was some kind of test to see if she would run, or try to steal something.
Instead, Duke Fari’o walked in. She was not wearing what Astra would have called formal robes, instead dressed in a dark green silk tunic and trousers. For all that her garb was simply cut and sewn, it was not plain. The hems were richly embroidered, thick with images of birds and geometric repeating patterns, and she wore several long necklaces made entirely of pearls and diamonds. Without her nerves and fear in the way, Astra could see the hint of age around the duke’s eyes, the way the wrinkles were not quite formed but maturing. She did not wear the expression of a young woman, either, despite the apparent youth of her skin and hair. But none of that was as shocking as what Astra saw when she looked at the duke’s face.
Her eyes were completely normal. Unlike the fully black eyes Astra had seen during her petition, the duke’s eyes were simply dark brown. The whites of her eyes were an unhealthy yellow, but nonetheless fully human. Astra gasped in surprise despite herself.
The duke raised one elegant finger to her lips in a shushing motion. Astra snapped her mouth shut, then looked past the duke to the empty hallway. She suspected the guard was not nearby.
Gesturing for Astra to follow her, Duke Fari’o walked in between shelves towards the dark heart of the vault. She stopped just past where the feeble light of the moonstones ended. There was a long moment while she stood there, her back to Astra, before she turned to one shelf holding a black lacquered box. It was not very big and seemed to have no hinges or any way to open it. The duke ran one finger along the edge of it, from corner to corner, while crooning some indistinct words. The lacquer parted in a seam and the duke opened the box.
Astra had to blink hard for a moment, briefly overwhelmed by the soul dust that swirled around the treasure within. When her eyes cleared, she saw one of the most beautiful small sculptures she had ever laid eyes upon. It was a small ivory carving of an animal, possibly a dolphin, although Astra had never seen one outside of illustrations in books to compare it to. No bigger than her fist, it was full of sour magic holding the soul dust to it, like sticky paper. That did not hide the fact that it was the work of a master artist, possibly even a lost work by Master Eyo himself.
“Give this to my love.” The duke held it out to Astra.
“What?” Astra kept her hands to herself, unsure and wary.
The duke closed her eyes for a moment and opened them again. Astra braced for the unnatural blackness to envelope them, but the duke’s eyes remained human and untouched. “There are few moments of the day when my mind is not clouded by greed and lust and pain. I cannot afford time to explain it all to you, pilgrim scholar. Please. Give this to my love.”
Astra looked down at the precious treasure. “Who is your love?”
The duke looked at her in confusion. “Doctor Amna Riki’o.”
Astra nodded, since there was nothing she could say to that proclamation.
Slowly, she held out her hand for the precious but clearly cursed dolphin, and the duke dropped it into her palm. Astra gasped. It was like holding a tempest in her hand due to all the soul dust trapped inside. It was unnatural and incredibly powerful, but it was not a ghost, it was not a death bed, it was unlike anything Astra had ever experienced before. The actual soul of the duke—and Astra somehow, inexplicitly knew it was Duke Fari’o’s soul dust—was trapped in the ivory Astra held in the palm of her hand.
It was a crypt-keeper, something Astra had only ever read about and even then with a disbelief. Shocked, she looked up at Riki’o.
“I knew you would feel it. When the demon holds me back, I still can see with its eyes, and it sees you.”
Astra gasped, suddenly terrified for her life, and the life of Traz and Xavai as well.
Seeming to read her mind, the duke shook her head. “The demons are curious, but do not see a threat. There is nothing you can do anyway. But please, take that to my love. Let her have the last of me.”
“You are still alive.” Astra shook her head, it made no sense.
“Only just. Without a soul, a body dies. The demons cleaved us to hold our bodies in thrall, trapping what they do not need of us.” She gestured at the dolphin. “But sometimes, even they must sleep.”
Astra quickly tucked it away in a pocket, nodding.
Duke Fari’o leaned forward, her previously placid face fierce and terrifying to look at.
“Take it to her. Tell her my love remains true. She holds all that is left of my soul, now.” Her eyes flickered between brown and black and she shouldered past Astra so hard and fast that Astra nearly stumbled into the shelves behind her.
By the time she got out to the desk in the main area again, the guard was at the door, his back to her, as if he had never left. She sat down and waited impatiently for tenth bell to ring, and nearly ran out of the palace when it did. Walking swiftly, she went directly to the doctor’s house, and used the wooden clacker to announce her presence. Hosar opened the door, eyebrows high.
“Is it your brother?”
“What? No. No, Traz is doing well. This is something else. I need to see Doctor Riki’o. It’s urgent.”
“She is tending those in the hospital ward.” Hosar motioned to one side of the house.
“I’ll wait.”
After another surprised look, Hosar led her into the same waiting room she had been in before. It was not a long wait, though, before Riki’o came in. She was wearing a plain red tunic and trousers in heavy linen weave, the sleeves shortened so they ended just above her elbows.
“Pilgrim?” She came in but did not sit down.
“I am sorry to barge in, but this is important and quite honestly it makes me uncomfortable.” She looked around. “Are we safe here? Will we be overheard?”
The eyebrows rose even higher, but Riki’o nodded.
Astra took a deep breath, then recounted what happened in the vault at the palace. By the end of the short tale, the doctor’s hand was over her mouth and her eyes were filled with tears.
“She gave me this. It is full of magic. I don’t know if I should warn you about it or keep it from you.” Pulling out the exquisitely carved dolphin, she held it between them. Riki’o wavered visibly, then reached out to take it from her.
Riki’o clasped it in both her hands and wobbled over to a chair, falling into it like a sack of beets, tears falling freely. Astra felt compelled to sit next to her and put her hand on the doctor’s shoulder in support as she sobbed. It felt like an insignificant gesture in comparison to the doctor’s grief.
“What is it?” She asked when Riki’o managed to get her breath back.
“My engagement present to her. Before I left for my studies in Tsaka, all those years ago. It is a rare treasure I bought from a river trader with every coin I could spare.” She opened her palm and stared at it. “It is a river dolphin. They represent eternal love.” She looked over at Astra. “It is full of magic now, but I cannot identify it, or manipulate it. She said I hold her heart, now?”
“It’s—” Astra stopped before she said “soul dust”, knowing the doctor would understand immediately what it meant that Astra could feel it for what it was. She took a deep breath. “She said that you hold what is left of her soul.”
Riki’o cried out softly and held the dolphin close to her chest, heaving sobs overtaking her again.
Hosar jogged into the room, jewelry jangling loudly. “What did you do?” She demanded, sitting down to pull her mother into her arms.
“Nothing. I’m sorry,” she said, standing up and hustling out of the building quickly, leaving them to Riki’o’s grief. When she got back to the inn, the courtyard was quiet for a change, so she sat by the pond, staring at it as her mind replayed the tragedy of the doctor and the duke. Somehow, instinctively, she knew the story was not over yet. Likely, the demon would find out that the crypt-keeper was gone and try to find it. Of course it would look toward the doctor, in time. Nothing good would come of that.
Xavai came out of their rooms and sat next to her.
“Something bothers you?”
She nodded, then hiccuped, trying not to cry herself. He wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, wondering why such cruel things ever happened in a world protected by the gods, and why they were making her a witness to so much horror and pain.
Xavai asked nothing, letting her rest against him, and petting her hair with his other hand. Astra shuddered, the feeling of impending doom hanging over her like a shroud.
Next: Imprisoned
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