House of Eclipses by Casey L. Bond

18

It was no slight breeze that pushed the shallow, long Luminan ship through the placid water, but the breath of Sol. It was warm and urgent, and it filled me with dread.

Beron sat down with me as Caelum spoke with the riverfarer near his quarters. Citali had situated herself at the bow, as far away from me as possible. She talked for a moment with Saric and Kiran, her hip jutting out and her arms crossed, likely bossing them around. She probably thought they were here to serve us now instead of Sol. Disgust washed through me.

“Tell me your worries, Atena, and I’ll tell you mine,” Beron said softly.

I snorted. “You first. I insist.”

“Fine,” he relented. “I worry that your book will only be that, and Lumos’s face will reveal nothing.”

I didn’t fear that at all. Father wouldn’t guard something unless he knew it was important, or damning.

He gestured to me. My turn.

“I worry that only Sol’s light will reveal it and that we’re sailing the wrong direction,” I admitted. When Caelum left the riverfarer to speak with my sister, I couldn’t stomach watching them any longer. Beron said she believed that she could steal Caelum’s favor. It seemed that Citali’s plan had worked.

I glanced at the land we traveled through. There were no people settled here. No gardens would grow. They couldn’t sustain themselves. There weren’t even crocodiles in the land of perpetual dusk.

Beron leaned on the rail with me. I ticked my chin at him. “Your turn.”

He grinned and leaned far over to drag a hand through the water. He startled when I pretended to push him in, all the while pressing the small of his back so he wouldn’t tumble in. “That was evil…” he said appreciatively. He turned his back to the water, arms folded over his lean stomach beside my head. “I worry you’ll tell him what I did in the hall.”

“It meant nothing to you, and I don’t think it would mean anything to Caelum.”

His cool eyes held mine for a moment, then he turned away. “Well, I wholeheartedly disagree and claim superior judgment because I’ve known him my entire life, so if you wouldn’t mind keeping that moment secret so my brother doesn’t kill me, I’d appreciate it.”

“He wouldn’t kill you regardless. Your brother loves you.”

I turned and crossed my arms, watching Caelum and Citali.

“Citali told me about your mothers…” he said.

“A lie she foolishly believes in, I’m afraid. I think it makes it easier for her to hate me, and to keep me at arm’s length.”

“Why would she want to?”

“To protect herself from our father.” The river swiftly dragged us along. The sky faded from the pale gray that drenched everything it touched, to a darker shade as the river flowed faster and Sol’s breath intensified. “How long until we reach Lumina?”

“We’re approaching the division. Rather quickly, too.” He studied the sails as if they were a puzzle he couldn’t figure out. “It won’t take four days to sail to Lumina at this unusual speed.”

“It’s Sol. Do you feel her warmth?”

He huffed a laugh. “I think I do.”

Caelum made his way around the deck, making sure all was well with everyone.

The Luminan guards lingered here and there, several standing close to me and Beron. They weren’t close enough to overhear our conversation, but close enough to keep their eye on me.

“Do they think I’m dangerous?” I teased Beron, nodding toward them.

“They’re protective of us.”

“As they should be.”

He tugged on his collar. “They’ve also been ordered to protect you.”

I frowned. “From what threat?”

“Any and all.”

“Including Citali?”

His gaze snapped to mine. “Did she truly try to poison you?”

“She served me jam made from nightthorn berries. From what Caelum told me, they only grow in Lumina, which means someone from Lumina must have brought some along. Is it commonplace to bring poisons to a peace negotiation?”

He shook his head and blew out a tense breath. “I’ll find out who supplied her, or if she somehow stole it.”

I waved him off. “She wouldn’t have known what she was stealing. This was deliberate.”

He looked uneasy. Did he think no one among his people was capable of treachery? If anything, the circumstances of my life had taught me that those who should love you the most tended to be capable of the most horrific things imaginable.

“And if you find the person who aided her, then what?”

He cocked his head. “Do you really want to know?”

No, I didn’t. It couldn’t be any worse than what Father did to traitors, but that knowledge could elicit nightmares. It was best to be kept in the dark about some things.

Caelum strode down the deck and nodded to the soldiers closest to us. “Noor,” he greeted, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on my jaw. “Brother,” he said, raising to his full height. “The riverfarer has never seen anything like this strong, warm wind. He thinks that if it holds, it will have us home before the end of the day.”

It will hold,my eyes told Beron.

He turned away and smiled at his brother, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll make record time.”

The sky was darkening by the minute now. We were drifting out of the dusk lands. Farther from Sol.

Father must have awakened by now. He knew we were gone, and realized he’d been drugged so we could escape. He would find the substitute book left in place of his and read my note.

I meant every word.

Not that I’d hand any moonlight crown over to him anyway.

Caelum looked tired. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. “You and Beron are getting along well.”

I smiled. “As are you and my sister.”

“She was torn about leaving,” he explained.

I laughed at how she’d twisted his opinion of her. Beron was right. She was acting a part and had convinced Caelum she wasn’t the conniving, venomous scorpion she truly was. Wait until he felt her sting... “I can assure you that she wasn’t.”

He stiffened beside me. “You know, Noor, she’s as adamant about you lying as you are about her.”

“Then perhaps you should throw us both overboard.”

I looked at the sky. Darker. A hue so dark it was surprising how vibrantly blue it was. And overhead… a flicker of tiny, distant light.

My lips parted as I pointed to the sky. “Is that…?”

He looked to where I pointed. “Our ancestors. Soon, as we drift into darker skies, you’ll see millions more. The brightest few are those who were closest to Lumos during their lives.”

“The former Lumins?” I breathed, searching the endless blue for more freckles of light.

Caelum nodded encouragingly. “More will appear. The closer we get to home, the more the sky will fill with them.”

Another. Just there. I rushed across the ship to the other corner of the stern and caught myself on the rail. This one was far brighter than the first that appeared. It sparkled. Caelum, wearing a warm smile, moved to my side.

I didn’t look at him, fixing my eyes on the former Lumins who watched over us, shining a light, however small, in the darkness. It was like they were reminding their heirs they weren’t alone.

Sol shone down upon us in Helios, but it was only her. If our ancestors were there, we couldn’t see them. Her light was all we needed.

I wondered if the former Lumins cast into the midnight skies were curious about the Helioans aboard their ship; if they couldn’t believe the Atenas were crossing into their kingdom after so long. Sol had chosen her vessels for seven generations, including ours. Of course, one of us would only get the chance to succeed him if he failed to ensure his reign.

As if Caelum had summoned them, more and more of his ancestors looked down upon us. Lumos had plucked each spirit and given it a distinct place in the sky.

Caelum’s hand drifted down my glittering sleeve. “Wearing this, you look like you belong among them,” he said softly.

Vada knew what she was doing in having such a garment made, but I was no Luminan spirit. I was nothing icy and everything scorching flame, no matter what I wore. “I’d like to thank your aunt for making it for me.”

“She’s sleeping, but when she wakes, I’ll tell her you’d like to speak with her,” he promised.

Someone at the front of his ship called out his title and he apologetically cringed, then left me again.

“Noor,” a familiar voice found me.

I turned to see Kiran helping Saric across the deck. I ran to them, surprised when the old man let go of Kiran’s arm and shooed him toward me. Kiran didn’t hesitate, taking advantage of our distance from Father and capturing me in a hug. He was taller and stronger than I realized. “I’m so glad you’re okay… and that we can finally speak.”

Saric waited behind him and pulled me in for a much gentler hug. “Daughter of Sol,” he cooed, patting my hand after he’d released me.

My heart swelled with love for the old priest. “I have your book in my trunks. I’ll return it when we reach Lumina. I read all of it.”

A meaningful look passed between us before he shook his head. “It belongs with you.”

“Aren’t you supposed to protect it?” I asked, helping him to a nearby bench. The Luminan guard who’d been standing and watching us from there, one leg propped on the seat, kindly moved to let Saric have plenty of room.

The trip had exhausted and aged him.

I glanced at Kiran, worried.

The smile he returned did not reach his burnt orange eyes.

Saric tried to catch his breath. “A glass of water?” he croaked to Kiran. Reluctantly, Kiran went in search of what the old priest had asked for. “Sit with me, Noor,” he said, his voice suddenly clear.

I sat beside him, waiting for him to go on.

“The Sphinx guided you to this moment?”

I nodded.

“I, too, have seen your journey’s beginning. I dreamt of it last night.” He patted my hand. “It will not be an easy one.”

“You’ve seen only the beginning, Saric? What of the middle and ending?”

He smiled, still calming his breathing. “Those depend on the choices you make right now, Atena.”

“I’m not sure what to do. Sol seems to be leading me one place, yet…” I lowered my voice, “you know why Father sent us.”

He nodded gravely, leaning in close and squeezing my hand in his weathered one, a shade darker than my olive and mottled with age spots. “I don’t know what the book in your pocket holds, but you must trust Sol. Trust this.” He jabbed a thumb toward his heart. “Do not trust your father, Noor. Or your sister. She is scheming, and I fear what she might have planned.”

“She tried to poison me, with the help of someone from Lumina.”

He searched for her at the bow but Citali had moved someplace else. “With what?”

“Nightthorn berries.”

“Watch the youngest brother,” he warned.

Beron? Could he have supplied to berries to Citali as a way to test both her and me?

“He is very protective of the Lumin, protective enough to test the women who fight for his hand.” He patted my hand. “We know that this is much bigger than a simple union, but he does not. He wants the best for his brother.”

Is that why he kissed me? More than a diversion, but rather a test to see if I would respond and go beyond what was necessary to sate the guards’ curiosity. Is that why he asked me not to tell Caelum, or was it because he was truly afraid his elder brother would be angry?

“You have feelings for the eldest,” he observed. I neither confirmed nor denied; I remained quiet and listened. “You want to know if what you feel is reciprocal.”

He waited for me to speak, to do something. All I could manage was a single, sharp nod.

He gave a grandfatherly smile. “What does your heart tell you?”

I snorted, “My eyes tell me that he likes Citali just as much.”

He nodded. “It’s good to use your other senses, too, but not to the point where you become deaf to that which should guide you.” He tapped his chest again.

“Does it matter how we feel? With different gods in charge, we may be getting led in different directions.”

He patted my hand again. Pat, pat, pat. “Listen here. Read the book that is in your pocket when Lumos can help you. Then you will have the knowledge you need to make the decision cleaving your thoughts.”

“The ink is truly there?” I whispered.

He nodded. “When you were young, there was still trade among our peoples, however limited it might be. Your mother was kind and giving. People always gave her extravagant gifts and knew where to find anything at market – even the forbidden. Including inks designed to only appear in certain light.” I had no idea. “Despite what your father has led you to believe, there is still trade among our kingdoms for those who dare travel back and forth.”

The riverfarer and his map came to mind. The river was mapped far beyond the division. The truth lurked under the fold. I’d stake my sun diamonds on that if I could.

Kiran reappeared and Saric slumped a little more for his benefit. He gave me a sly wink before Kiran reached us, then took the water with shaky hands as the younger priest knelt before him. His skin was pebbled and in only a kilt, he was cold. I held my hand out and he looked quizzically at it.

“To warm you,” I explained.

My friend slipped his palm into mine and immediately let out a breath, relaxing. “That’s remarkable.”

“We need to find a tunic or blanket for Saric,” I added. “I can go look.”

He took my seat when I strode away. In truth, they both needed warmer clothing. I hadn’t noticed the shift in cooler air, as enamored as I was with the stars.

I made my way around the deck, two men following at a close distance. Caelum’s men. Or were they Beron’s?

I understood Beron’s motives. He loved his brother. But I didn’t appreciate his little trials and wondered if he might need a taste of his own poison. I couldn’t believe the theory that he was the one who gave Citali nightthorn berries, especially after promising to find who did it and insinuating the perpetrator would be put to death.

The ship’s large cabin overflowed with trunks, supplies, and Luminan guards. The riverfarer stood among them, pointing at a map. I’d seen him in passing but hadn’t spoken to him directly, even though Caelum seemed to like using his ship for private moments.

His grizzled voice boomed, “This is where we are. I’ve never seen a wind this fast and sure!”

I cleared my throat and the eyes of all who were assembled snapped to me. “Pardon me for interrupting, but I was hoping someone could help me. Sol’s priests are in need of garments or blankets to keep them warm. They did not know they would be traveling to Lumina until we were in the dusk lands and didn’t bring warmer attire for the trip.”

The riverfarer chuffed a laugh, bracing large, weathered hands on the table. “Atena, this isn’t cold. Just you wait.”

I smiled. “Neither is it the least bit warm by Sol’s standards.”

He stood up straight and grinned. “Well?” he said to the guards loitering about. “Don’t just stand there; someone go fetch tunics, breeches, and two blankets! Give the Atena and I a moment to speak.”

I shouted after them that they could find Sol’s priests near the stern.

“This is such a large ship, compared to the one we sailed,” I told him, folding my hands behind my back and peering around his room now that he’d reclaimed it. “It looks a lot like the cabin of the riverfarer who brought us south.”

“Maps,” he mused. “They’re a riverfarer’s obsession. You can never have too many, and should always use coin to buy new ones. The river changes, you know. She can be steady in places and fickle in others. Typical woman,” he teased, his green eyes glittering with mischief as he waited for my reaction.

I shrugged. “Fickle or not, you chase her all the same.”

He wagged a finger toward me. “Clever.”

“There is a divide at the edge of each kingdom, a boundary the other does not typically pass. The dusk lands that lay between… are they considered neutral ground?”

His smile sharpened. “That’s right.”

That was how trade occurred. A Luminan ship could bring wares into the dusk land waters, meet up with a Helioan ship, and transfer goods. Neither would break the accords… and no one would be the wiser.

“The dusk lands are dreadfully dull. I much prefer brightness or darkness to sullen gray,” I told him, returning our conversation to a safer ground for him.

He inclined his head. “I couldn’t agree more.” He crossed his arms and glanced at me shrewdly. “The wind that propels us is warmer, despite the cool Luminan air. Is this great gust Sol’s doing?”

I nodded and confirmed, “Her breath fills your sails.”

“She must love you and your sister very much to help you along in such a bold way. I’ve sailed the river my whole life – I was born and raised on a ship! – and I’ve never reached Lumina from the dusk lands in a single day.”

I shrugged again.

Whether it was love for us that drove Sol or the purpose that lay hidden in Father’s secret book, I wasn’t sure. I was grateful for the speed and secretly hoped she hadn’t granted Father the same kindness.

“I enjoyed the dusk land storms, though,” I admitted.

He wistfully stared out the door. “The storms are what riverfarers live for.”

“I can see why. They’re the embodiment of the sky’s feelings, and she seems so angry and sad here.”

The riverfarer crossed his arms. “I’ve never thought of it that way, but I can see that, Atena. Thank you.”

“How much farther must we sail before seeing Lumos?”

He tilted his head and waved me closer to his desk where an orb sat. Taking it in his hand, he held it out to me. It was made of wood, smoothed by hands and time. Etched into the top of the orb was the name Helios. It spanned the entire top half of the sphere. But there were seas I’d never heard of, rivers that must have run dry over time, because they were nothing but pebble beds now. “When was this made?” I asked.

“About twenty years or so ago, give or take,” he answered.

There was a small city engraved near a tiny section of dunes. I smiled. “Whomever made it didn’t carve these proportionally. The desert sand is as big as the great oceans of Lumina,” I told him.

“It wasn’t always so,” he said, taking a smaller glass ball from the drawer of his desk. He extended his hand for the wooden globe. I gave it to him, and he held it out between two fingers. The smaller ball, he held over my kingdom, specifically our city, the only one left... “Sol stopped moving eighteen years ago. Her constant fire quickly burnt and shriveled the land. The sands weren’t always so vast.”

He didn’t say it, but Sol’s damage was swift and decisive, punishing to Helios. But why?

He moved the smaller orb toward Lumina on the bottom of the wooden sphere, making the smaller sphere orbit the lower half of the larger wooden one.

“Lumos doesn’t leave his kingdom; it’s just so vast that when he circles us, we lose sight of him, but only for a time.”

I knew that Helios was fixed and that Lumos still moved, but it was different seeing how desperate Sol’s situation was. How desperate we, her people, were. Our kingdom was truly dying, being burned away by the goddess who built it.

In my heart, I knew she didn’t intend to harm us. “Why did Sol stop orbiting like Lumos?”

He sat the greater and lesser spheres back on his desk. “That’s the great mystery, isn’t it? No one knows.”

Footsteps came at the door. The last person I wanted to see appeared.

Beron looked between us. “Atena, we’ve provided for Sol’s priests as requested. They seem much more comfortable.”

I smiled sweetly, but it seemed to make him fidget. “Thank you.”

I turned back to the riverfarer. “Thank you for sharing this with me,” I told him.

He shook his head. “Thanks be to Sol. For if that is her breath, she’s making my task a lot easier.”

Outside, the sky was deep blue, nearly black now, and far more stars winked from on high. Beron waited as I exited the cabin, then walked with me toward the bow. Citali had moved from her spot, though she couldn’t have gone far. “You’re quiet,” Beron noted.

The tipped bow of the ship was empty, so I settled into it. Beron settled behind me, to my right, lounging at a respectable distance. I placed my hands on the boards that met at a V in front of me and tried to calm my temper.

“Did Caelum ask you to poison me?” I asked, waiting for his reply.

To his credit, he didn’t bother denying his role in it. “How did you figure it out?”

“Did he?” I pressed.

“No.”

“Why did you do it?”

“I didn’t poison you, Noor,” he said, standing up straighter.

The stars were innumerable. Millions of his ancestors heard us speaking. I wondered if they were proud or disappointed of his role in the near poisoning of an Atena.

“Did you tell Citali the berries were poisonous?”

He had the decency to look ashamed, at least. “I didn’t think she’d give it to you,” he admitted. “It was a test for her.”

I rolled my eyes. “Which she failed, because you failed to see how deep her hatred for me ran.”

He folded his hands in front of him. “You’re right.”

I raised my chin. “And the kiss? Cover, or another test?”

“Can’t it be both?” he asked, finally relaxing against the rail. “I fear for my brother. Through the years, we’ve heard rumors of how cruel the Aten can be to his own people. I feared that cruelty might have been passed down or taught to you both.”

“And what have you learned?”

“That both of you are hiding something; I just haven’t figured out what. And I fear Citali is loyal only to herself. Is that the case with you, too, Noor?”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Have you kissed my sister?” I asked, turning to prop my hip on the rail to face him directly.

“We came close once…” he admitted. “But no.” This younger version of Caelum was devious. Cunning. Infuriating.

“These little tests of yours… Aren’t they proof that you’re loyal to nothing but yourself, too?”

Beron stood straighter, tugging on his tunic.

“Do you know what I think?” I asked.

He waited.

“I think you watch Citali and she watches you awfully closely for you to only be tempting her fidelity to Caelum. I think you’re intrigued by my sister, Beron. But you should be careful. Lumos could still choose her for your brother.”

Beron roughly wiped his hands over his lips. The truth was a great silencer.

“Don’t kiss her again. No more of these trials for her. Test me if you must, but you will ruin both our names if you keep pushing. The only limits Citali knows are the ones she imposes on herself, and those are rarely applied. And no taking advantage if she propositions you. She may do just that if she thinks she’s losing Caelum.”

“Second-best?” he rasped.

“I don’t think that’s how she sees you at all, Beron, but rather how you see yourself.”

Beron inclined his head fractionally. “Very well, Atena.”

“You should know, Beron, that if I would’ve died from that poison, I would’ve dragged your spirit into the burning sky with me and you’d never smile down upon your descendants as they do,” I told him quietly, returning my gaze to the stars.

“I understand why you’re angry, Noor,” he said quietly, sliding closer. “But tell me, if you loved your sister and she was in Caelum’s position, would you not have done the same?”

I leveled him with a scorching glare. “I wouldn’t have been caught.”