him. If there's any hope left to us, it's in his hands."
It was Jaren's turn to
speak. The old priest looked at her with his sad brown eyes, his voice soft. "Yet
how will we find him, daughter? The walls surrounding Tofet are high, and in
five hundred years, only the hero Lucem has ever scaled them. Thousands have
tried. Those are not good odds."
Meliora nodded. Lucem.
The hero of Requiem. A legend among the slaves. Meliora remembered that day ten
years ago. She had been only a youth, seventeen, naive and scared. The entire
city garrison had risen into the sky, seeking the escaped slave in the hills,
deserts, and mountains around the city. Since then, Lucem had been an
embarrassment to her family—the slave who had found a blind spot in the walls
of Tofet, who had climbed, who had killed a seraph archer, who had escaped into
the wilderness. Her family had never spoken of him again . . . yet in Tofet, he
was still a hero, forever remembered.
"No," Meliora said. "We
will not try to scale the wall as Lucem did. It rises too high. All its blind
spots have been found since Lucem escaped, and many guards patrol its
battlements. There are no city gates in Tofet nor in Shayeen, it's true; seraphim
need none, able to fly above the walls as easily as any dragon." She smiled
thinly. "But there is a river. The Te'ephim River flows between Shayeen and
Tofet, forever separating our two realms. And only where the river leaves the
city is the wall broken—two exits. Two ways we can escape."
Vale grunted. The tall,
dour slave gripped a spoon as if it were a sword. "Swimming won't work. Many
slaves tried. I knew some of them. Good men." He groaned. "There are beasts in
the water, reptiles with great teeth, smaller than dragons but hungry and
vicious. Hundreds of them. Trained to feed upon the flesh of any slave mad
enough to swim for freedom. And even if you made it past the reptiles, there
are walls along the river too. Not as tall as the walls around the city, but
guards top them too, armed with bows and arrows. Just waiting for a chance to
shoot whoever the reptiles miss." He shook his head. "No, the river is death. I
would sooner try to scale the wall as Lucem did than swim. At least we know one
man who fled over the wall. No slave ever made it through the water."
"Yet I am no simple
slave." Meliora placed her hands around Vale's fist that still clutched the
spoon, and she stared into his eyes. "I have the eyes of a seraph. I have no
more wings, no more long golden hair, and my halo burns with red fire. But
cloaked and hooded, nothing but my eyes visible?" She smiled thinly. "Yes. I
think I could still pass for a seraph. I will walk to the city port—there are
no walls there—and book passage in a boat. I will sail out of the city." She
nodded and tightened her grip around his hand. "I will find the Keymaker."
Silence fell across the
hut.
They all stared at her,
eyes wide . . . all but Tash.
Throughout the night,
the slender pleasurer had said little, merely sat and listened. Now her eyes
narrowed, and she rose to her feet. The candlelight reflected in her bracelets,
earrings, and ring.
"Wait a minute!" Tash
said. "This won't work. This won't work at all."
"It's our only hope,"
Meliora said.
Tash shook her head
wildly, her long brown hair swaying. "It's a useless hope! Look. Do the
numbers. There are . . . what, half a million slaves in Tofet? Maybe more?" She
nodded. "And even if you fix the key, that's just one key. Imagine you could
get every slave to line up, one by one, and you started opening their collars.
Imagine it took you . . . say, thirty seconds to open a collar. It would still
take six months to open everyone's collars. Half a year! And that's assuming
you could even do it that fast. Meanwhile Ishtafel would kill us all. The
seraphim wouldn't give us six minutes to work, let alone six months."
Vale grumbled. "At
least it's some hope. At least we could get a few dragons flying before
Ishtafel
It was Jaren's turn to
speak. The old priest looked at her with his sad brown eyes, his voice soft. "Yet
how will we find him, daughter? The walls surrounding Tofet are high, and in
five hundred years, only the hero Lucem has ever scaled them. Thousands have
tried. Those are not good odds."
Meliora nodded. Lucem.
The hero of Requiem. A legend among the slaves. Meliora remembered that day ten
years ago. She had been only a youth, seventeen, naive and scared. The entire
city garrison had risen into the sky, seeking the escaped slave in the hills,
deserts, and mountains around the city. Since then, Lucem had been an
embarrassment to her family—the slave who had found a blind spot in the walls
of Tofet, who had climbed, who had killed a seraph archer, who had escaped into
the wilderness. Her family had never spoken of him again . . . yet in Tofet, he
was still a hero, forever remembered.
"No," Meliora said. "We
will not try to scale the wall as Lucem did. It rises too high. All its blind
spots have been found since Lucem escaped, and many guards patrol its
battlements. There are no city gates in Tofet nor in Shayeen, it's true; seraphim
need none, able to fly above the walls as easily as any dragon." She smiled
thinly. "But there is a river. The Te'ephim River flows between Shayeen and
Tofet, forever separating our two realms. And only where the river leaves the
city is the wall broken—two exits. Two ways we can escape."
Vale grunted. The tall,
dour slave gripped a spoon as if it were a sword. "Swimming won't work. Many
slaves tried. I knew some of them. Good men." He groaned. "There are beasts in
the water, reptiles with great teeth, smaller than dragons but hungry and
vicious. Hundreds of them. Trained to feed upon the flesh of any slave mad
enough to swim for freedom. And even if you made it past the reptiles, there
are walls along the river too. Not as tall as the walls around the city, but
guards top them too, armed with bows and arrows. Just waiting for a chance to
shoot whoever the reptiles miss." He shook his head. "No, the river is death. I
would sooner try to scale the wall as Lucem did than swim. At least we know one
man who fled over the wall. No slave ever made it through the water."
"Yet I am no simple
slave." Meliora placed her hands around Vale's fist that still clutched the
spoon, and she stared into his eyes. "I have the eyes of a seraph. I have no
more wings, no more long golden hair, and my halo burns with red fire. But
cloaked and hooded, nothing but my eyes visible?" She smiled thinly. "Yes. I
think I could still pass for a seraph. I will walk to the city port—there are
no walls there—and book passage in a boat. I will sail out of the city." She
nodded and tightened her grip around his hand. "I will find the Keymaker."
Silence fell across the
hut.
They all stared at her,
eyes wide . . . all but Tash.
Throughout the night,
the slender pleasurer had said little, merely sat and listened. Now her eyes
narrowed, and she rose to her feet. The candlelight reflected in her bracelets,
earrings, and ring.
"Wait a minute!" Tash
said. "This won't work. This won't work at all."
"It's our only hope,"
Meliora said.
Tash shook her head
wildly, her long brown hair swaying. "It's a useless hope! Look. Do the
numbers. There are . . . what, half a million slaves in Tofet? Maybe more?" She
nodded. "And even if you fix the key, that's just one key. Imagine you could
get every slave to line up, one by one, and you started opening their collars.
Imagine it took you . . . say, thirty seconds to open a collar. It would still
take six months to open everyone's collars. Half a year! And that's assuming
you could even do it that fast. Meanwhile Ishtafel would kill us all. The
seraphim wouldn't give us six minutes to work, let alone six months."
Vale grumbled. "At
least it's some hope. At least we could get a few dragons flying before
Ishtafel
Similar Books
