“One thousand thrones,” she said, as if she were listing the price of a glass of brandy.
“What?” Even Galen seemed shocked.
She smiled at that. “Just between you, me, and sweet pea over here, your friend doesn’t know what he’s found, or he’d be asking ten times that. One thousand’s a bargain price.”
Kihrin tilted his head and looked at her critically. She was confident and calm and doing a good job of suggesting she didn’t care how the bargaining came out, one way or the other. “How about I give you two thousand thrones and you tell me what you didn’t tell Merit?”
“Make it fifteen hundred so I don’t feel so guilty about robbing the cradle.” Tauna reached for the satchel herself and pulled it into her lap. As Kihrin handed her the wad of promissory notes from the Temple of Tavris, she opened the bag and pulled out a roll of vellum, several wads of silk string for a harp, a bundle of old clothes, and a gold ring set with an intaglio ruby.
Kihrin’s breath caught as he saw the ring.
She saw and grinned. “Oh, you’ve seen one of these before?”
Kihrin reached for the stone. “Yes, I have.”
Galen leaned forward and also examined the ring, but his expression was less intrigued. “It’s just a gem.”
“No, it’s not. Give me a second.” Kihrin grabbed the ring away from Tauna and spent a few minutes staring at it. “This isn’t the same ring I saw before. It’s just the same design. My father had this?”
Tauna’s eyes widened. “Oh sweetheart, I don’t know the details. Merit said you paid him to do a job. This is the job. That’s all I know.” She leaned forward. “But I’ve seen the rings before, worn on the least likely of fingers. All of them carved with that same crown and gryphon. It’s a kind of club, I figure, a very secret club that pays no attention to race, sex, or class.* I’ve seen that ring on Council Lords and I’ve seen that ring worn hidden around the necks of slaves—or least on people pretending to be slaves.”
Kihrin sat there frowning, moving the ring back and forth in his hands. Galen hated how unhappy he looked. “This is … this is about your father? Surdyeh?”
Kihrin nodded. He turned back to Tauna. “Would you be willing to find out more information on them for me?”
She stood up. “Not in a thousand years. I’m sorry, but I know enough about staying alive in this town to not meddle in some things. Tell you what though. I’ll pass the request on to my father. Maybe he can help you.”
“Who’s your father?” Galen asked.
“Doc,”* Tauna said. “He owns the bar.” She started walking to the door. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a room full of suckers to finish fleecing.”
63: TEA WITH DEATH
(Kihrin’s story)
Things blurred for a bit. I was aware of events, but disconnected from them. The sound of coughing as Tyentso gasped for air and was Returned to life. Voices as people talked about her and probably about me. One of those voices was Doc’s and another was Teraeth’s. Eventually, Tyentso’s voice joined in. Shouting. Everyone seemed excited, which I suppose was to be expected.
Then quiet. Everyone left.
A hand came down on my shoulder. A moment later, Khaemezra sat down across from me. “What happened, Kihrin? How did you end up in Kharas Gulgoth?”
I stared at her. Her appearance was a lie, just as much an illusion as the one she had woven when we first met in Kishna-Farriga. Her name was a lie. Everything about her was a lie. She wasn’t Khaemezra, High Priestess of Thaena.
She was Thaena. I saw the truth now.
I wondered if Kalindra had known when she had claimed Thaena only lived in the Afterlife. Had Kalindra lied to me, or had Khaemezra lied to her?
“Kihrin?”
I clenched my jaw and looked away.
After a beat, I turned back, met her gaze, even though it was stupid, even though she terrified me. “How could Relos Var have created the Eight Immortals? The Eight created the world. You—” My voice cracked. “—created the world. Yet when he said he made you, you didn’t protest.”
Khaemezra sighed. “Were my parents still alive, they would object to both the idea that Relos Var made me and equally to the notion I helped make the world. The Eight did not create the universe. We were empowered.”
“By Relos Var?” My voice cracked again.
Her reluctance to talk about this was palpable, but I was long past caring. “That wasn’t his name back then, but yes, by Relos Var.”
I found myself standing. “I’ve worshipped the Eight since I was a child! Worshipped Taja! You—” I pointed a finger at her. “—you lectured me on faith. And you were never gods at all?”
“Sit down, Kihrin.”
“No. The whole reason the Eight went after the god-kings is because they were all false gods. And you’re sitting here telling me that you’re no better than the god-kings who enslaved—”
“Not one more word!” The second time, her voice was Thaena’s, and not just that of an old woman. In her anger, the illusion dropped, and she was Death once more—ebony-skinned and waterborne. “Sit. Down.”
I sat.
“If you were anyone else, you brash little bastard, I would strike you down for daring to say such a thing.” She stood, effectively trading places with me. “If we had our way, there would be no temples, no altars, we would not be called gods. We never wanted to be gods. And we have no interest in enslaving the people we sacrificed everything to save.”
“Sacrificed? What sacrifice? He made you GODS.”
She held up a finger. I swallowed and shut up.
“Imagine that you are a soldier, Kihrin,” Thaena said. “Imagine that you are locked in an endless war against an enemy whom you literally cannot see. That was us, fighting the demons. Trying to fight them. Failing. Now imagine someone comes along—a clever, clever man—and tells you that he can give you the keys you need to fight these demons invading your home. He can give you the keys to drive them back so millions of your people will live. All you must do is let yourself be tied to a cosmic force. You will have power beyond imagination. But you will be removed from your race, from your family, from your friends, from everyone you care for. That’s not the worst part. The worst part is that the job will never end. You will be a soldier standing on the wall forever, guarding those who cannot protect themselves. You cannot die and you will serve until the end of the universe. You will never be able to put aside your burden, hand it off to someone else, and go back to a civilian life. Would you volunteer for that?”
Something made me take the question seriously. I had the weird, itchy feeling that she wasn’t really asking me hypothetically. I bit my lip. “I think I might. I … yes. If I knew what I was getting into. If it was my choice.”
Thaena nodded and looked away. She mumbled something.
“What was that?”
She turned back to me. “I said: that’s what you said the last time, too.”