Chapter Seventeen—Attenuations

Ali’s eyes were wide. He swallowed visibly and seeing this, it made Shiro’s heart beat even faster with apprehension.

“If I don’t survive,” Shiro said, “Thank you for everything.”

“What? Stop that,” Ali rebuked. “You talk like you are already dead!” Then with a smile Shiro could see through, he said, “Have fun in your drug-induced alcohol haze, my friend.”

Shiro laughed.

Debaku was surveying the night horizon. It was blue, just as he said they were waiting for. “It is time,” he said. Then he turned around.

He picked up the mortar of smashed Jihogakha, water and alcohol. Bringing it to Shiro’s lips, he tilted it up.

The liquid, hot in his throat, was hard for Shiro to swallow. Debaku seemed careful in giving him the correct amount.

“Now remove your tunic and lie on your back,” he said.

Shiro did as he was instructed, using a rice sac as a cushion for his head. Debaku laid a large hand over his heart and listened.

Shiro’s vision was swaying. Or was that the rocking of the boat?

No, the stars were turning in circles. He was certainly dizzy, and he felt sick, the concoction spreading warmth in his stomach that radiated outward. He could feel that warmth—and a tingling sensation in his toes and finger tips.

Debaku counted Shiro’s heartbeat aloud for several seconds. “If this pace triples,” he said to Ali, then place this stone atop his chest. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Ali said. For once he gave a simple one word answer that was clear and precise.

Shiro appreciated that.

“And you must do the same for me,” he added.

Shiro wasn’t watching, but he heard Debaku slurp up the rest of the concoction, which was far more than he had given to him.

Lying down next to him, Debaku said, “Listen to the sound of my voice, Shiro Takeda.”

“Hai,” he said, his voice breathy and heavy.

“Tell me what it is you wish to do now.”

“I want… I want to find Jessamine.”

“And where must you go?”

“To the void.”

The stars were blurring, circling even faster now.

“And what must you do once you are there?”

“I must search for Jessamine’s aural tether.”

“Will you find it?”

“I…” Shiro wasn’t certain that he would, but he knew what he had to say. “Yes… I will find it.”

“And so you shall,” Debaku said, then he started muttering something in a strange language Shiro wasn’t familiar with. It sounded like a chant to the gods—probably in Mar’a Thulian.

As Debaku uttered the words, the skies whirled about and Shiro found himself in a haze of blackness. All was empty, dark and desolate.

Cold even.

Had he been able to see anything, he knew he would be dizzy, but there was nothing to reference other than his disoriented feeling—like a dream.

Darius’ vision swayed back and forth, the visages of the snake men and their red eyes with slits coming into their own. He knew what was to come next.

Wincing at the taste of blood in his mouth, he braced himself for—

Then the white snake bit him and all went to black.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in the void once again. He glanced about, knowing the familiarity of this place.

“Whaaaaat dooo you ssssseeeek?” a voice hissed all around him.

“I seek…”

Kalina couldn’t control her bodily shaking. Even her chin shook, so hard in fact her teeth started clattering.

To keep Hahkari and Darius from hearing her, she clasped her hands over her mouth as she crouched behind a curtain separating the inner sanctum and the outer sanctum.

Arisa…

She was…

They had…

Killed her!

Slit her throat, drained her blood for some vile concoction of dark sorcery that those monsters had Darius drink.

She stood, then fell back down to her knees, her hands slapping against the dark stones under her. Flexing the muscles of her body, even the ones in her mouth, she stilled, fearful that she would be heard as sandaled footsteps approached.

It was Hahkari.

If he discovered her…

She didn’t move, her palms still shaking wildly against the floor as she lowered herself to the tiles, tears dripping down against the cold tiles as the breeze blew in.

It was dark, save for the soft glow of several well-placed glow lamps.

Slowly, she crawled to one of the corridors, a corridor only for the fact that there were curtain hung like walls. But those walls were often destroyed by the breeze that blew the diaphanous fabric about.

Managing to escape the sultans’ inner sanctum of the upper citadel, she ran, ran to a corridor far from there and slammed her back against the wall and cried silently with her hands over her mouth.

She had to leave.

She had to leave the palace.

Now!

Right now!

But before she could go, she collapsed over the floor, her body shaking in convulsions as she sobbed uncontrollably.

She couldn’t leave.