House of Eclipses by Casey L. Bond

12

When someone knocked at my door the next morning, I ignored them for a solid two minutes, hoping they’d go away. When they steadfastly refused, only knocking harder and louder, I finally threw back the blanket and trudged to the door, unlocking it and looking through the slender crack I made with one eye pinched closed, the other squinting.

Beron chuckled from the other side.

I slammed the door in his face, then stomped back to the bed, fell back into it, and covered my head again.

He pushed the door open and rudely intruded. “Not a morning person, I see.”

“Not in the least,” I rasped.

“My brother wants to see you before he meets with your father.”

“Whatever for?”

“Because he just wants to.”

He just wants to.

I huffed beneath the blanket when the bed dipped under his weight. “Go away, Beron.”

“I just met you last night and you’re comfortable enough to order me around already? Perhaps you will make a fine queen.”

I didn’t deign to respond.

He cleared his throat. “Caelum told me what happened and assured me that he’d explained and apologized for as long as you’d allow him in your presence last night. Now that you’ve had a chance to sleep on it, how do you feel about things this morning?”

I threw the cover off my head to glare at him. “Like my sleep is being disturbed.”

“He’ll be heartbroken if you don’t go and meet him on the ship.”

I perked up. “What ship?”

His chest puffed a bit and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing at him. In that moment, I could almost picture him as a child, proud and believing himself the strongest young man in the world. “The Luminan ship, of course. I understand it’ll be your home away from home in a few days, if all goes well.”

Should I go? Caelum just wanted to see me. What about what I wanted? Did I want to see him, or should I make him wait? Pushing him away might backfire and push him toward my sister. My mind was split. Part of me wanted to go, but the other part wanted to refuse him. I picked at the blanket in my lap, unsure.

“He prepared breakfast.”

I was hungry. And seeing the ship wouldn’t be so bad. I’d studied it the other day from the river, but it was so different from ours. Its bottom was just as shallow, but the riverfarer’s quarters were much larger than those on our ship.

“Wait. Did you say he prepared breakfast?”

Beron smiled. “That’s right. He went all out for you. My brother is quite a chef. You’ll see it for yourself if you can drag yourself into the bathing room and get ready in time.”

I flicked a glance toward said room. “Get out.” Shooing him from the bed, he stood, barely deflecting my swats. I pushed him from the room and locked the door.

“How many hours will you be, Atena Noor?” his muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

“Fifteen minutes!” I yelled, already rifling through my armoire for a simple dress.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” he grumbled.

I found a deep crimson dress and rushed into the bathing room to tame my hair, scrub my teeth and face, and tug on my clothing, emerging from my room in ten minutes to a gaping Beron.

“You… how?” he stuttered.

“Never underestimate a woman, Beron. We are quite adept at getting ready quickly when properly motivated, but can just as easily drag our feet in procrastination if we aren’t.”

He shook his head. “I’ll never understand any of you.”

“The feeling is mutual, I’m sure.”

We jogged down the steps quickly. When we reached the first floor and made our way outside, I asked, “Why are you escorting me? I know the way.”

“I thought you enjoyed my company,” he pouted.

“I’m still debating. You woke me very early.”

He grinned. “It’ll be worth it.”

It better be.

Zuul was lurking near a silvery, dead tree, his dark eyes sliding along with our steps. He’d no doubt followed Caelum to see which of the Atenas he was preparing breakfast for. Now he could scurry back to my father and report his findings.

“Your father’s guard?” Beron asked beneath his breath.

“In the flesh.”

“I don’t like him.”

I laughed. “Neither do I.”

We took a trail that wound through the gray-hued grass to the glassy, still river and then turned south where the Luminan ship was moored. Even its wood looked somber in this lighting. Beron held my hand as I boarded, steadying me from the river’s sudden movement. From inside a set of ornate double doors carved with Lumos’s great face, Caelum emerged. Wearing a deep green vest, a pristine white shirt, and dark trousers and boots, he looked well-rested.

“Thank you for coming despite the short notice, Noor.”

I didn’t respond. While getting ready and walking there, I’d given myself a stern talking to. I had to remember the crown no matter what happened, and never again let myself forget that I was simply playing a game to get it. A game where winning was everything and losing was death.

I wouldn’t brush away the fact that he and Citali shared a kiss. I’d use it to stoke the fire it ignited. Another reminder that Caelum was playing a game too, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

“Thank you, Beron,” he said, flicking a glance to the top floor of the House of Dusk.

“Stop fretting. I’m a good second choice, brother,” he teased. Then he winked at me and explained, “I’ll be entertaining Citali for a little while.”

I grinned. “Good luck. She has a short attention span. You’ll have to be diligent to keep her busy.”

His cocky brow rose. “I think I know how to entertain a woman.”

“If you think she’s typical, you know nothing about my sister. She’ll eat you alive.”

Beron laughed as he retraced the path back to the House. Can’t say I didn’t warn him.

Caelum gestured to the cabin and we walked to the door. He held it open as I stepped inside, then joined me. Two crates and a flat piece of wood had been set up as a makeshift table. Two large, midnight blue pillows lay on the ground, acting as cushioned seats. “If this isn’t to your liking…” he began nervously.

To answer his lingering question, I walked to the nearest pillow and sat down.

He brought a tray over and placed it in the middle of the table before sitting on the pillow across from me. On the tray was a carafe of water, crystal glasses, several pieces of fruit I didn’t recognize, small loaves of crusted bread, and a small glass tub of some sort of jam.

“Beron said you were a chef and that you made the breakfast.”

His eyes widened. “My brother may have exaggerated… a lot.”

“He’s very good at it,” I teased, pouring water into my glass and taking a sip.

“Beron and I have been inseparable since his birth. I’ve always felt protective of him, and he feels protective of me. Not to say we didn’t fight plenty growing up, but at the end of the day and after every argument, we knew we loved each other and never lost sight of that.”

“I wish I could say the same,” I admitted.

“Would you tell me about your eldest sister? About your family?”

I tore a chunk of bread from a loaf, finding it warm and soft on the inside. While I answered, I spread jam onto the chunk. “Zarina is the Aten’s eldest child. She is twenty, born more than three years before me and two before Citali.”

He nodded encouragingly, so I continued.

“Her mother was Father’s first wife. He married her in an arrangement not unlike the one you might forge with one of us. She was from a very wealthy family in Helios, one with strong ties to the guard. Theirs was a marriage of strength and security, but it did not last long. She was very petite and became pregnant right away. She died while giving birth to Zarina.”

Caelum’s dark brows drew in. “That had to be difficult for Zarina, growing up without a mother. And difficult for your father to suddenly raise a newborn child alone.”

Caelum had the luxury of having a mother who was wonderful, which colored his thoughts.

“Zarina is eldest and has always had more privileges and responsibilities than Citali and I. Her whole life, she’s been groomed to become the next Aten. I would tell you more about her, but don’t know much beyond my dealings with her when I was very young. The older we got, the more the three of us were separated, and now, Zarina prefers to keep to herself.” Not that I minded. Her attitude made it easy not to seek her out unless necessary.

“What one word would you use to describe her?”

“Cold,” I answered. “Despite being the Aten’s daughter, Zarina is cold. That adjective has always rung through my mind when she’s near me.”

I chewed my bread, uncomfortable.

“And Citali?” he asked, taking some of the sliced pink fruit. The inside was filled with pulp. He gestured to the dish. “It’s very good if you’d like to try it.”

I took a slice to taste. “Thank you.”

If he asked Citali to describe our mothers, or to describe me, he would get a very different answer than the one I would give him. I could only tell him the truth from my perspective. Citali’s perspective differed, and so did her truth.

“Father took a second wife, Citali’s mother, after he mourned Zarina’s for a full year, as is our custom – or was our custom at that time. It’s changed a bit over the years.” I took a deep breath. “Citali’s mother did not die while birthing her, but died a week after Citali was born. She developed an infection and then a fever, and though the healers tried everything they knew, they couldn’t save her. She joined Sol in the hereafter.” Silence stretched between us for a moment before I continued. “If you ask my sister, she believes her mother’s death is my mother’s fault. She believes Father met my mother and killed hers to be rid of her.”

Caelum stopped chewing, searching my face for something I wasn’t sure he wanted to find.

It was evident he cared. About me, and even about Citali, but most of all about his people. He had no idea who he was negotiating with, or that I’d spoken the truth when I told him I was actually after the crown of moonlight.

Something shifted in me just then. Kiran was a friend when he could be, when it was safe. But what would it be like to have a true friend, one with whom you could be your real self? A friend you could confide in no matter who was around or watching?

What if confiding in Caelum wasn’t dangerous, but freeing? What if it brought him closer to me, and that closeness allowed him to confide in me – things he’d never spoken to anyone else? Perhaps… eventually… even about the crown.

If I wanted it, perhaps I needed to earn it by stepping into the unknown.

“Why would she believe he was capable of such cruelty?”

I tore another piece of bread, focusing on the loaf and battling with myself over what to tell him.

He moved his pillow to sit beside me and tenderly reached out to move my hair away from my neck. “Did he do this?”

If he knew the truth, what would Father do to him?

I didn’t answer. In my mind, I cursed the tears that welled for a moment before I urged them back into their cage.

“He loved my mother,” I said, my voice cracking. I cleared it to recover, then took a sip of water. “He loved her so much. When I was very small, I remembered he always said she was Sol embodied. That she was his light, always chasing his darkness away.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died when I was seven, the night she tried to leave him.”

I shut my eyes and saw the burst blood vessels in her eyes. Remembered the heavy, limp weight of her body as I tried to tear her from the altar stone so he couldn’t bring Sol down to incinerate her, or maybe so Sol could burn me away with her.

Saric had torn me away and held me as she departed, patting my head and smoothing my hair, singing the soft lullaby that my mother sang to me every night before she tucked me into bed.

Kind, loving Saric with his heart of gold and patience.

“After my mother died, Father took one wife after another. His eighth recently passed into the hereafter. In fact, Father announced we were coming here the evening after her departure.”

“Departure?” he softly asked.

“When we die, the Aten uses his power to draw Sol close to the earth. She focuses her heat on the deceased and consumes any good, acceptable part of the dead. What’s left is ash, bone, and the things she does not desire. The spirit departs this world and Sol ushers it into the hereafter. The spirits are what fuel Sol’s fire.”

He sat still and quiet. “Why did you tell me all this? You could have lied.”

I glanced down, then met his eyes. “Your heart is good and unspoiled, as far as I can see. Your people love you. Your mother and brother adore you. I just wanted you to know what you’d be marrying into if you went through with the offer extended and chose Citali or me as your wife.”

He scrubbed a palm over his mouth and held it there. I’d rendered him speechless with the reality of my family history, not that I hadn’t expected it.

“No wonder there’s such animosity between you and Citali… and Zarina.”

I tried to smile. Sipped. Then spoke. “My sisters and I are pretty glass beads strung together by blood, each chipping and scarring one another. Always chafing. Eventually, the friction will break one of us away entirely.”

He bit his lower lip and took a deep breath.

“So, when you ask the same question of Citali and she tells you that my mother is to blame for the death of hers, you’ll know my truth. She’d rather blame my mother, and by extension me, than accept what actually happened. There were many healers and priests who attended her mother and tried to save her. None were able. But most are still living – Priest Saric included.”

“I believe you, Noor,” he said quietly. “I need no further proof.”

I bit into the slice of fruit he’d brought for us and found it tart and juicy. Very tart. I felt the sourness twisting my face but couldn’t contain the puckered expression it drew from me.

Caelum laughed. “Perhaps it’s an acquired taste.”

“Very acquired,” I teased, coughing and reaching for my water glass.

He grew quiet again and my stomach twisted as I wondered what he was thinking, what he might ask next.

“I’m sure your history has influenced the way you feel about love,” he said.

“Love…” I gave a mirthless laugh. The only thing love ever gave me was a dead mother and more bruises and bloody wounds than I could count if I tried. “If love is what I’ve seen, it’s like a flame, like Sol’s fire. It burns and consumes until all that’s left are ashes.” I turned my head to him, wrapping my arms around my now-bent knees. “Do you know what I’m most afraid of?”

“What are you most afraid of, Noor?” he asked softly.

“I’m terrified ashes is all I’ll become, when I feel destined to be the flame.”

Just then, a rumble shook the ship. Alarmed, I braced my hands on the planks and looked to Caelum, who seemed perfectly calm. He tilted his head to the side, completely unaffected by the booming noise. But I’d felt it, heard it. “What was that?” I asked with wide eyes.

Caelum laughed. “You’ve never heard thunder?”

“Thunder?”

“It’s your first trip to the dusk lands,” he said, eyes widening with realization. “The riverfarers refer to this gray place by a second name – the storm stretch.”

I shook my head. “Sol does not allow the winds to shroud her with clouds.”

“You’ve never seen rain?” he exclaimed.

I started to feel embarrassed. “I mean, I’ve read about it…”

Caelum rose and took my hand. “Let me show you.”

I slid my palm into his and walked outside. Another rumble of thunder rolled over the sky, sounding like the uneven wheels of a wagon drawn along a cobbled road. A drop of water splashed onto the deck near my feet. Followed by another. Then another.

The earth smelled different.

It smelled alive, even as the land looked dead and desolate, colorless.

“I’m surprised we haven’t had a storm since we’ve been here. They’re known to be quite severe at times.”

“Why do storms form here? Do you have them in Lumina?” I asked, watching water droplets fall onto my outstretched arms and hands, feeling them catch in my hair and on my dress.

“We don’t have storms in our kingdom, but we do benefit from the waters that trickle south. Here, the warmth of Helios meets the cool air from Lumina. When they collide, storms often form, some building into beasts.”

Beasts? I watched the sky and a great boom sounded. I crouched low, holding my ears from the sudden noise.

Caelum caught my elbow. “You’re okay. That was much closer than before. We should get off the ship and away from the water now.”

“Why? Will the thunder tear us apart if we stand near it?” My heart felt like that thunder. It boomed in my chest, a powerful beating beast.

“Lightning often accompanies thunder,” he explained, casting his eyes to the shore. “It’s attracted to water, and we don’t want it to be drawn to us by standing on a ship.”

“What is lightning?”

Caelum smiled, then grabbed my hand as we ran down the small plank and made it onto the earth. Thunder came again, louder this time. “Watch the sky,” Caelum instructed.

More and more droplets of rain began to fall. The normally placid gray sky seemed to be filled with churning anger. The pale color had turned dark and foreboding. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the spectacular sight! Then, a bolt of fire forked across those dark clouds, lighting them from within as it streaked over the sky. I laughed and clutched my chest.

Is that you, Sol? Is your power so great that it can reach such a desolate place?

“We should go inside now!” Caelum shouted.

In my exuberance to experience this new thing called thunder and lightning, I hadn’t noticed it beginning to pour rain. We were getting soaked. My hair and gown were weighed down with water, but I couldn’t stop smiling. I didn’t want to leave it. If Sol’s fire was here in the dusk lands, she wouldn’t hurt me with it. But would she feel the same about the Lumin?

It was better not to tempt her to violence. I took Caelum’s hand this time and tugged him toward the House of Dusk. We ran to the nearest door and flung it open, the wind pushing it shut behind us with a loud snap. Caelum and I looked at one another and laughed uproariously.

“Look at you!” I teased.

“Me?” Caelum scoffed, then gestured to me. I glanced at my saturated gown and the puddle forming under my feet as the rain escaped the fibers.

Caelum suddenly went quiet. He glanced over me, then cleared his throat and met my eyes again. My gown wasn’t whisper-thin, but the heavy rain made it cling to my body so that I felt like Citali in one of her tight gowns. I grew self-conscious.

“I should go change.” I gestured to him. “You should, too.”

“I have to meet with your father soon.”

I nodded, plucking my dress away from my body.

He bent so his mouth was beside my ear. “Thank you, Noor.”

I nodded again, a knot the size of the ship’s mooring line filling my throat. He placed a soft kiss at my jaw, slowly pulling away. I felt my body drift with him for the briefest of moments, not wanting to part from him, but to get closer.

“Can I see you later?”

I shrugged noncommittally. “Maybe.”

He nodded with a small smile. “Hopefully.”

I plodded to my room, leaving small puddles in my wake, where I quickly stripped off the gown and dried my skin. Padding to my wardrobe, I chose a gown that was a purple-red hue with gold stitching at the sleeves and neckline.

I sat in my window and watched the storm. The gray punches and greenish brushes that mottled the sky reminded me of my throat now that it was finally healing. The forked lightning had moved on, but flashes still lit the clouds from behind. And the rain. The glorious rain spattered my window and drenched everything in sight. It fell so hard that everything beyond the House looked hazy.

Last night, I struggled to sleep.

It turned out that all I needed was the calming voice of the rain and the soothing flashes of Sol’s fire.