The Inner Circle: Holy Spirit (23 page)

CHAPTER
sixteen

Wept For

‘
Again!’ Master Fasil
clapped his hands together with glee. ‘You’re making a bit of a
habit of this, aren’t you? First you had your way with me and now
you’ve taken a whisp . . . or a thousand whisps . . . or whatever
it was. My dear Maker, you really are getting to be quite the
little slut, aren’t you?’

‘
You won’t even leave
me to dream in peace?’ A ten-year-old Seteal glanced up at the
ugly, sweating fellow from the tree swing in which she was rocking.
She waved at Gifn, who watched protectively from the kitchen
window. ‘It was all so easy back then.’ Seteal now stood beside
Fasil, watching her younger self swinging ever higher. ‘Were you
ever so innocent?’

‘
I suppose we all
were at some time or another.’ Fasil shrugged. ‘You can never have
it back, though.’ He paused for a moment. ‘And what, may I ask, do
you intend to do about that?’

Seteal turned around to see Fasil
examining the greenery and flowers surrounding her. They were
withering and dying the longer her presence remained. The sun
disappeared. Dark clouds rolled in and she turned to find a baby
crying in his basinet.

‘
That’s not mine,’
Seteal replied.

‘
Of course he is,’
Fasil picked up the child and kissed him on the cheek. ‘We made him
together, the three of us.’

‘
The three of us?’
Seteal cringed.

‘
His mama . . .’
Fasil winked at Seteal. ‘His papa--’ He kissed the baby. ‘And his
whisps.’ The baby’s eyes burst open to reveal twin black spheres
that spilled blood rather than tears.

Seteal gasped and woke up in a cold
sweat. She tasted blood and could only assume she’d bitten her
tongue. Fes’s large outline snored softly in a chair beside the bed
and a small candle flickered at the opposite end of the tent. The
urge to relieve herself became overwhelming, driving Seteal to pull
back the blankets, but what she found only made her feel worse.
Between her thighs, Seteal’s nightdress was soaked in blood.

‘
Fes!’ Seteal cried.
‘Fes. Wake up!’

‘
I be here, honey,’
Fes said groggily. ‘Oh, my Lord Maker,’ she gasped and pushed
herself to her feet. ‘I’d best get the jilt’lesit.’ She rushed out
of the tent.

Moving cautiously, Seteal put her feet
on the floor and a hand on her head. The tent flap was torn open
and Seeol hurried in followed by Fes and an unknown Elglair
man.

‘
Who’s that?’ Seteal
asked anxiously.

‘
He be Gor-in-ai,’
Fes replied as if it were obvious. ‘He’s the jilt’lesit who
examined you after . . . what happened.’

‘
Never mind all
that.’ The young man rushed forward. Seteal estimated his age to be
about seventy. ‘Loss of short-term memory is not an uncommon
symptom of trauma. Hold still for a moment.’ Gor-in-ai reached out
to Seteal’s aura, undoubtedly feeling along the various strands of
light within. ‘This is quite unusual. With that much bleeding, I
expected . . .’ He trailed off.

‘
What is it?’ Seeol
asked.

‘
The baby is fine,’
Gor-in-ai replied. ‘And by that, I mean he’s alive.’

‘
He?’ Seteal looked
at her stomach disparagingly. She’d dreamt of a boy, but had hoped
otherwise. ‘It’s a man child?’

‘
Yes,’ Gor-in-ai
replied. ‘I just don’t understand. There’s something that . . . is
different. I feel the strands between you, but I am no longer able
to see his aura. It’s as though it’s covered by a film of darkness.
I really must consult with a gil in a matter such as
this.’

‘
Fes,’ Seeol butted
in. ‘Could you pleasing change the blankets?’ He scooped Seteal up
in his powerful arms and waited for Fes to change the bedding. Then
he and the jilt’lesit waited outside for the Merry Islander to help
Seteal clean herself up before returning. ‘I must have talking time
with Seteal alonely.’

‘
Gor-in-ai?’ Fes
enquired of the jilt’lesit.

‘
For now there’s
nothing more we can do for you or the child, Seteal.’ The man
sighed grimly. ‘I advise plenty of rest.’

‘
Be quick, Seeol,’
Fes warned as she and Gor-in-ai left.

‘
What is it?’ Seteal
asked when Seeol took a seat at the end of her bed.

‘
Don’t be scared.’
The young man put a hand on Seteal’s belly and attempted to smile
reassuringly, his eyes remaining unnervingly
expressionless.

‘
I have a monster
growing inside of me,’ Seteal sobbed. ‘I can feel it.’

‘
He’s not a monster,’
Seeol reassured her. ‘He’s your son.’

‘
How can you say
that?’ Seteal snapped. ‘What do you know?’

‘
Once, a very long
timing ago . . .’ Seeol’s eyes filled with sadness. ‘I did hatched
from a black egg in Narvon Wood. Is thought lots about it and is
realised that we’re the same.’

‘
My child’s aura is
gone.’ Seteal spoke words that didn’t want to leave her lips. ‘Like
yours.’

‘
A whisp did to me
the same as your baby.’ Seeol nodded. ‘That’s why you should not be
so very scared. That’s why he’s not a monster.’

‘
But you are a
monster, Seeol.
’ Seteal cringed, her
heart sinking. ‘Don’t you see that? What if he’s just like you?
What if he has another self like you did?’

‘
I will help you.’
Seeol moved over to the entrance. ‘You can see so much.’ Seeol
sighed. ‘But your greatest loss is that you can never see what is
having right in front of you. I may be a monster, but I still have
a heartbeat,’ the man finished with a solemn expression and then
exited the tent.

Seeol’s words haunted Seteal
until the following morning when it was time to pack up the tents
and continue south. Briel did the majority of the work in pulling
down Seteal’s tent and storing it in his wagon, which had become an
additional storage unit for army supplies. He’d likewise made room
available for Seteal, having been advised by Gor-in-ai that she
wouldn’t be up for riding.

Once Seteal was safely bundled up in
the back of the Keacos’ wagon, Far-a-mael took it upon himself to
pay her a visit. She smelt him before she saw him.

Seteal glared at the old man. ‘What do
you want?’

‘
Good.’ Far-a-mael
rubbed his hands together. ‘I can see that you’re comfortable and
well-rested.’ He seemed nervous. ‘Well . . . now that it’s all done
with, might I ask if you have anything useful to report on the
status of Old World?’

‘
Get out,’ Seteal
replied through gritted teeth. ‘Get out!’ she screamed, thrusting a
hand in Far-a-mael’s direction. The pain was barely noticeable at
first, starting in her chest and moving quickly into her shoulder
and along her arm. The burning sensation flashed through Seteal’s
forearm and burst out from her fingertips: an invisible pulse of
energy. Far-a-mael was struck with such force that he flew out of
the wagon and hit the ground several strides away.

Panting, wide-eyed and fearful,
Seteal stared at her hand. This had happened before when she and
Ilgrin were attacked by dogs in Setbrana. What was happening to
her? Far-a-mael did not return.

The day stretched on forever, during
which Seteal received little stimulation to distract her from the
constant waves of nausea emanating from her stomach. Several times,
she had to race to the back of the wagon to vomit up more of the
strange black stuff that had come up the day before. On another
occasion, she vomited blood and began to wonder if she was going to
survive to give birth to whatever it was that grew within. Did she
care? Perhaps if her body died, at last Seteal’s spirit would be
free.

But she already knew that wasn’t to be
the case. Her spirit had grown weak when she’d abandoned her body
too long in Cold Wood. The spirit could not survive without the
body. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it to.

‘
What am I going to
do with you?’ Seteal put a hand over her stomach and stifled a sob
when she felt a soft kick. ‘Parrowun,’ she whispered the name. She
remembered having heard it a long time ago and hating it at the
time. It had such morbidity of meaning that she couldn’t understand
why anyone would name their child in such a way. The word meant
‘wept for,’ which seemed all too appropriate in the case of
Seteal’s bastard.

She lifted her dress above her
stomach and gazed at the bulging surface in dismay. The skin
stretched out over her swollen belly had taken on a greyish tone
and thin, black, vein-like structures had started to reveal
themselves across the surface. She didn’t want to look at it
anymore and quickly rolled her dress back down to her
ankles.

*

Ilgrin rubbed the back of his head and
squinted through the hazy darkness of the cave. He counted three
silts and a human sitting at the table several strides away. ‘Who
are you?’ he asked, standing groggily.

‘
Sa’Enoch.’ The only
male silt approached, opening his hand and guiding Ilgrin back to
the table to offer him a backless chair. ‘Welcome. I’m sure you and
Jakob must be well acquainted by now.’ He indicated toward the
Sa’Tanist at the far end of the table. ‘This is May,’ he said,
putting a hand on a female silt’s shoulders before lowering his
lips to kiss her cheek. ‘And that is Teah.’ He gestured toward the
darkly clad woman with the strange illumination that occasionally
blinked into existence above her head. ‘I’m Noah.’

‘
These are your
acquaintances?’ Ilgrin turned to Jakob. ‘The ones willing to help
us?’ For the first time since their meeting, Jakob only nodded in
response and kept his eyes lowered.

‘
We are those of whom
the human speaks,’ Noah answered. ‘So you’re the man who wants my
father’s job?’

‘
Your father?’ Ilgrin
questioned.

‘
The Devil,
Du’Korah,’ Noah confirmed, a wry smile raising his cheeks. The silt
pushed a hand through his neatly trimmed purple hair and winked an
equally purple eye. ‘Don’t worry, I want him dethroned as much as
anybody.’

‘
I’m sorry.’ Ilgrin
shook his head. ‘This is all so much to take in. I’ve never really
met another silt before.’ He cast his eyes over Teah’s hands and
smiled at her lack of fingernails. ‘Why do you want to dethrone
your father?’

‘
It’s simple,
really.’ Noah shrugged. ‘Father is destroying Hades . . . what
humans call Old World. He refuses to regulate healing or
resurrection. Anybody can do it whenever they want and Hades is
suffering because of it. I don’t believe my father should’ve stolen
the throne from your mother. I think it’s fitting that the line of
Sa’Tan should have it back.’

‘
What is
that?
’ Ilgrin asked distractedly, once
again noticing the strange disk flicker above Teah’s head as she
turned to look toward the entrance.

‘
You’ve noticed my
halo,’ Teah replied. ‘I’m an angel,’ she stated as though that were
all the explanation required.

‘
How are you all
connected?’ Ilgrin pushed. ‘How can I trust any of you?’

‘
If we were not
trustworthy,’ Noah said slowly, ‘you’d already be dead. My father
has put a price on your head and yet here you are alive in my
presence.’

‘
How did he know I
was alive?’

‘
It became obvious
when Sa’Tanist spies reported a rogue silt flying about the skies
of Abnatol.’ Noah’s tone remained patient. ‘Our kind are never sent
that far north, so Father’s suspicions were raised immediately.
Upon interrogation, the men who were sent after you and your mother
so long ago admitted to being too weak to execute a child. They’ve
since been executed themselves.’

‘
What about the rest
of you?’ Ilgrin glanced about the table.

‘
You already know my
motivation.’ Jakob shrugged.

‘
May is my fiancée,’
Noah answered for the quiet light-blue-haired woman. ‘She supports
what I’m trying to accomplish. And Teah--’

‘
I’m an angel,’ Teah
repeated her earlier statement. ‘It’s not safe for me to be seen in
public. They’d hunt me down and kill me like they did my family.
I’m hoping you’ll introduce a policy change.’ She looked at Ilgrin
penetratingly. ‘Anyway, you couldn’t possibly be as recklessly
destructive as Korah.’

‘
Okay.’ Ilgrin
nodded, satisfied by the answers he’d received. Each of them had a
motivation that made sense. ‘So what’s the plan?’

‘
It’s quite simple.’
Jakob spoke up, his face looking as haggard as Ilgrin felt after
their whisp rain experience. ‘We have to get you and the crown
together and seeing as though we can’t bring the crown to you,
we’ll have to bring you to the crown.’

‘
Where is it
kept?’

‘
In the treasury,’
Noah replied. ‘My father has the only key and he wears it around
his neck.’