Karesh Ni is the sequel to Bloodharvest. It’s comparatively ‘Modern Day’ in Pallas.
Twilight in Heaven is in the dawn ages. It’s part of my Silmarillion.
Twilight in Heaven: Chapter 5
Chapter 5
I woke up on the bier. It was a low, squat block of stone, uncut and unpolished, white marble shot through with veins of silver and speckled with quartz. This was where Koru told me to come for a reading of my dreams, where Zeni performed her day-job. Night-job, I guess. I sat up and my leg was cured. Zeni sat on a chair nearby, playing cat’s cradle with herself, and looking unutterably bored.
My schemes and flattery aside, she was quite pretty. Her skin had the same reddish tint as the river silt, carried down from the Tsme. She had big eyes and small, long-fingered hands. Her hair and clothing floated in the water as if they were weightless, and underneath her clothing, her form curved in most interesting ways. That was the thing about gossamer. It revealed shapes and no details, form but no specifics, and hints. She looked amazing.
She looked up while I was looking at her and put her game away.
She really was quite pretty, but now, instead of looking passionate, enraptured, or amorous, she looked curious and a little cynical.
“I fixed your leg,” she said, waving her finger at me.
“Thank you.”
“With less pretty language, why are you here? Be honest.”
“Mostly for the leg,” I said.
“Fair.”
“Also, I want your help to escape the valley.”
She shook her head. “I don’t get involved in the affairs of the Hakan.”
“I hate your sister.”
Zeni perked right up. “What now?”
“She’s a plague, and I want to work her downfall.”
Zeni’s eyes narrowed. “Which one?”
“Astras.” I paused. “Aelof’s fine. She’s quite nice, honestly, but she complains a lot.”
“She does do a lot of work,” Zeni said quickly.
“Maybe so, but I don’t want to hear about it! Anyway, I wish her the best. I’m talking about Astras. I want to work her downfall.”
“I don’t know if I should get involved–” said Zeni, and I hurried on.
“I think she’s cheating on Koru.”
That stopped her like I’d staked her through the heart. “With who?”
“Dr Simmons.”
She looked away, and the gears of her mind clicked audibly.
I went on. “He’s the really annoying one with the too-big head on the too-thin neck and laughs like a harpy.”
Zeni looked down, and her eyes fixed on me. She leaned forward in her seat, pulling barely-there fabric tight. “Why him?”
“A few reasons. One, he’s an idiot, she seems to like him, and I can’t imagine anyone putting up with him unless he was giving her a little something extra. Two, I don’t think Koru would suspect. Simmons gives a slightly-gay vibe. Three, I’ve never seen Koru give a lot of attention to Astras. She has to show up, look hot, and he treats her as being decorative. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was watering other fields as a way to get revenge.”
Zeni squinted. “Why do you want revenge?”
“She tried to have me killed.”
“Did you try to sleep with her, and she turn you down?”
“Who?” I yelled. My voice cracked. I didn’t mean to, but that meant there was no way I could have faked it. “The evil plague?”
“Yeah. You just said she’s hot.”
I stared at her for several seconds, then said, “No.”
“I’m just saying,” she just said.
“No.”
This turn of conversation had moved away from me. I was still kinda trying to seduce her.
“Baby, let’s not talk about other women.”
“Yeah, yeah. Enough with that, buddy. What do you want?”
“I’d like you to smuggle me out of valley without anyone knowing.”
Zeni waggled her head side-to-side a few times. She looked up at the Moon again and frowned.
“And I’d like to talk with you a little bit,” I added.
Her head stopped wiggling, and Zeni looked at me. It was a flat gaze. Her eyes didn’t open all the way, but she arched her eyebrows. Her lips made a thin line. But I got the feeling through her mask she wasn’t quite as cold as she implied.
“Come here. Talk with me a little bit,” I added. There was plenty of room on the bier.
She stood up with marvelous posture, and that made her hips and curves draw the floating gossamer tight. I enjoyed looking at her. She shifted her weight to her right leg, as if to take a step, but the movement made her curves curvier. Her left foot went up on the toe.
“Night Witch, Daughter of Alph, Oracle, come to me!” yelled the voice of the idiot above, the true blister under my sandal strap, Mithrak. “Give me your wisdom.”
“I won’t give you a bleeding thing,” muttered Zeni, slipping out of her position to stand flat-footed with fists on hips.
I slipped up from the bier, took her about the waist, and kissed her. She looked surprised, and she didn’t kiss me back. But she didn’t move away either.
After a long, pleasant moment, I leaned away without letting go. “Help me. I must escape.”
“Okay.”
“Mithrak’s going to ask you where I am. Don’t tell him.”
“I’ll lie to him.
I expected more fight there, honestly. “You can do that? As an oracle?”
“Do what? Lie to a customer? Oh, sweetie.”
“Dang.”
I’d always sort of suspected, but I’d just assumed it was impossible.
“Where do you want to go?” she asked.
Hyperion, I thought, but I didn’t say. “Just out of the valley, and far enough away I can’t be tracked easily.”
“Follow this stairway down, but when you come to the Moon, turn around. Before you, you will see many pools. One will bear the reflection of Angel’s Crest. Walk through it, and you will be there.”
“Can I come see you again?”
“If you want.”
And I did.
But I didn’t want to die. Fighting Mithrak would get me killed. If he fired even one round from that .43, Hoarfast would hear. And then…
I looked at Zeni.
“It would be great if they thought I was dead.”
She shrugged a mysterious shrug, but underneath she was smirking.
I ran down the stairway toward the Moon at the bottom of the lake.
Twilight in Heaven: Chapter 2
Chapter 2
I stood on Koru’s balcony. Eight of us, the King of Rats, his daughter Seraphine, wife Astras, facilitator Hoarfast, wife’s counselor Dr Simmons, worthless-imbecile-chasing-Seraphine Mithrak, worthless-imbecile’s-friend Cole, security consultant Agammae, and emissary Kog, me, had just watched our attempt on the life of Mallens, King of the Gods and Lord of Creation, fail. Jermaine, Koru’s son, must now be dead. No one spoke yet. The roar of the river Alph as it fell off Mt Monac and plunged underground provided pleasant background noise.
All of Meru would have been so much better if Mallens had died. I’d long since left prayer behind, given up my wishes, and taken action to make things better. I’d done everything for them. I had found out who could be bribed and bribed them. I’d figured out how Death’s scepter could be stolen and stolen it. I had found heretical blacksmiths who would make replicas of All Things Ending and had titan-killing weapons made. I had done everything to make things better.
I had even volunteered to go with Jermaine. I offered. I had been the first to step up when he’d asked among our group. Sickness and death on anyone who said I sat out because I was a coward. Even when Jermaine refused, I hadn’t gotten angry, and I’d put aside my resentments for the greater good. While the angels prepared their killing party, I’d been in the streets, learning where Mallens would go, how he went there, who came with, and how we could use it. I had done everything for them!
And we had failed, and the world would fall to darkness.
If I had been there, we would have made it.
Something made a scrape and clatter.
Koru kicked his couch back. Seraphine looked startled to see herself casually pushed aside. “Everyone stay still. We need to decide what we’re going to do before anyone goes anywhere or says anything.”
Koru possessed age and power out of proportion with his standing as a lesser god. King of Rats was such a minor title, other pantheons might not claim it. Yet a lesser god had this mansion of Shang Du. In this house they did not even put out plates for manna but feasted on honeydew. Normally a hundred servants filled the polished halls, but he’d sent them away for First Light. We had miles of corridors and rooms to ourselves.
His eyes were dull red, his nose was long and too big, and his mustache looked like whiskers. I think he greased it. All of his proportions were wrong. His arms were as long as his legs, being tall and thin drew attention to the slouch of his spine, and normally, like now, he wore furs to cover up his strange form. I don’t know how he and Seraphine were related.
“What do you want to discuss?” asked Hoarfast. “Our mutual endeavor has come to a definite end.”
“It has,” agreed Koru, “but we are now bound by a mutual secret. No one leaves this house. No one talks to anyone outside this house. We need to decide exactly what we are going to do.”
“I still don’t see what we have to talk about,” said Hoarfast. “We share a secret. We keep it.”
“The concern is someone running to Mallens and telling all, hoping for a reward,” said Mithrak. “Or at least mercy.”
“Mallens isn’t the sort to grant rewards or mercy,” said Agammae.
“Which is an excellent point,” Koru said to her. “Someone might panic and forget that.”
“Then again, we have nothing to talk about.” Hoarfast squeezed his knuckles. He didn’t crack them; he only pressed each fist within the other huge, calloused hand.
Hoarfast was the biggest of all of us and, quite frighteningly, the quickest. He was an old man in a career full of treachery: the arrangement and facilitation of killings. But he dreamed little dreams: money, fine houses, expensive clothes, and fast cars. He didn’t desire Seraphine, the most beautiful of women, but rather wanted women to come and go through his life, themselves impressed by his money, houses, and things.
I don’t know how Koru came to know him. They certainly didn’t move in the same circles. Mallens’s third sister Androche was made of iron and had born one hundred children of alloys. One, Kobold, was a fine steel with a pattern like snowflakes on his skin, and he had sired a line of Celestials in the climes of Theony, a northern range of mountains where the ice lies deep and hard enough to be smelted as metal. Hoarfast carried Kobold’s blood. He had a coarse black beard like iron filings stuck to a lodestone, gray eyes, and dark hair. He wore gray suits, bespoke shoes, and steel pins in his collar to clasp his tie. I’ve never seen him carry a gun, but I’d never seen him use his fists either. I’d made sure he’d never mean me harm.
“I am concerned someone might not keep their secrets well enough,” said Koru.
Hoarfast looked up at him through his coarse eyebrows. “Then either you take our mere promises or start killing people, King of Rats.”
King of Rats met the lesser Celestial’s eyes. Even as a lesser god, Koru stood high above Hoarfast’s station, but Hoarfast killed gods for a living.
“Let’s not go there,” said Astras, breaking her own silence. “Once that starts, it does not end. Besides, I have a better idea.”
When no one reacted, she pressed.
“Look at me. I can help you both.”
After a longer pause Hoarfast said, “Lady of the House,” like she wanted to pull his teeth. He turned and nodded.
Koru let Hoarfast look away first before turning to Astras as well.
She had sat back down but didn’t recline. The chairs would have made it uncomfortable anyway. “No one knows we had anything to do with it. All of the agents died. They are martyrs for a better world, and we will get them their better world. We have time. But we won’t if we turn on each other.”
Everyone considered this. I scowled.
“You mean to try again?” asked Hoarfast, raising one coarse eyebrow.
“Of course,” said Koru. Hoarfast may have been answering Astras, but the King of Rats answered. “Mallens killed my son.”
“Of course,” said Astras. She smiled. “Remember, no one outside Shang Du knows any of us had anything to do with it.”
She looked magnificent. On credentials alone, I understood why Koru chose her. The Sylph of the River Alph had given up her domain to marry Koru and now wore a deep-cut dress with high slits on either side. She’d crossed her legs, trapping the narrow front-panel of fabric between her thighs and exposing her long, naked leg to the seat of the couch. She wasn’t wearing underwear.
“Except for one,” said Astras, pointing at me. “Him.”
I had done everything for them.