Alisiyad Chapter 28 ~ Daughter of the Sun God (Part 3)

The Ricallyn didn’t look scared, or shocked, or even anxious.  The girl was shivering against him, but their faces were euphoric, as if the darkness were the brightest, warmest sunlight.  Their eyes glowed, as they had glowed in the chamber where they tried to kill Russ, but now they weren’t looking at him; they had eyes only for the man.

He’s not a man.

Russ stared at him.  Somehow he had the power of casting darkness and drawing it back, of obscuring himself from clear sight, while still being the center of attention.  The longer Russ stared, the clearer he became.

Ricalli.  This must be their god, the one they were summoning, why else the worshipful devotion on their faces?  He wasn’t quite what Russ was expecting.  For one, he was not dressed in the swishing robes of his followers — he was barely dressed at all, wearing only black pants.  And, unlike the lean, thin Ricallyn men with close cropped hair, his bare chest and arms were extremely muscular, and a cascade of long black hair fell over his shoulders.  The hair by his hairline was braided close to the scalp, fashionably, like cornrows, and his skin was pale white, like Alisiya’s.

His face was like the others’, though; sharp with piercing eyes.  Ricalli swept the rooftop with an appraising glance, and seemed satisfied with the groveling.  The Ricallyn did not stand up all the way, so Russ felt as if he stuck out like a sore thumb.  He wasn’t on his knees and he wasn’t gazing worshipfully, but strangely Ricalli didn’t seem surprised.  His gaze flickered over Russ and the girl briefly before he turned to one of the black robed Ricallyn.

“Stand up, Ullari.”  He motioned for the man to rise, and he did, though he bowed his head rather than look Ricalli straight in the eye.  “Well?” Ricalli said, and Russ was confused to hear a note of wry humor in his voice, “I can sense a great commotion without a summoning, Ullari, and you have been in a frenzy since this morning.  I came when I felt the life go out of Ozun; I expect a good explanation.”

The man, Ullari, responded in Adayzjian, gesturing toward Russ as he spoke, and looking around blankly when he could not see Alisiya.  Ricalli raised an eyebrow at Russ skeptically — no doubt Ullari had told him who Ozun’s killer was.

“You, Key, come forward,” he said abruptly.

Russ stayed put and stared back impassively.  The girl, who had buried her face in his shoulder out of sheer fear of the creeping shadow, now peeked out at Ricalli.

“I know you understand me; obey,” Ricalli said, mistakenly thinking Russ was playing dumb.

“I understand you,” Russ said.  “I’ll keep my distance, if you don’t mind.”

Both dark eyebrows when up, but Ricalli’s expression remained otherwise composed.  “I do mind,” he said evenly.  “When I give an order, I am obeyed.”

Russ clenched his jaw and didn’t reply, letting his eyes, he hoped, give all the answer that was needed.  His voice might betray him, crack or waver from fear — he felt stronger when silent.

Ricalli was an impressive sight, his aura of magical power coupled with the bulging muscles he displayed so proudly.  He looked like a man used to being obeyed, alright.  But Russ had been through a lot, and there was the girl who had once joined her sister in scorning him, now clinging to him, and that made it easier to stare back in defiance.  It was easy to be hopeless and afraid when you were alone, surrounded by nothing but enemies, it was impossible to be cowardly when someone depended on you.  He wasn’t going to let anyone get her, or him, back on any altar.

“Proud.”  Ricalli said the word as if it encapsulated everything he’d determined about Russ in a few minutes of observation.  Then, “Pride is a killer.”  He strode forward, the Ricallyn on their knees shuffling aside to make room for him.  He didn’t even bother to look down at them.

Russ didn’t move, not wanting to seem afraid.  The girl shook as Ricalli drew near.  He did not stop until he was extremely close, his chest almost touching her back, and he looked down at Russ.

Russ was fairly tall, reaching 6′3″ when he didn’t slouch — and he was stretched as tall as he could now.  But Ricalli was taller.  By several inches.  Russ had to tilt his head to look him in the eye.  At first he’d been inclined to stubbornly keep his gaze level . . . but not meeting his eyes could also be a sign of fear.  So he looked up, unflinching, though the cold, inscrutable black of Ricalli’s eyes made him want to shrink back.  Ricalli had the outward appearance of a young, robust man, but one look into his eyes left no doubt that he was old, very old.

“I am not too proud to approach you since you would not come closer to me,” this strange, not-man said.  “I am told you are a Key, from another world, given as a gift by one who claims to be the goddess Alisiya, and are slated for death.  It might occur to you that I now hold your fate in my hands, and you would do well to plead your case for living, rather than looking at me as if you wish to spit on me.”

“If your people would butcher a little girl like a pig, I’m not going to waste my time appealing to your pity,” Russ said, half surprised at the level, articulate words that came to him.

“Pity!” Ricalli uttered a short laugh, his breath moving Russ’s hair in a gust of warm air.  “I have no pity.  I was speaking of usefulness.  My children think you very useful dead.”

Russ lowered his lids halfway, looking at Ricalli slit eyed, hoping that would hide his anxiety.  “You agree with them?” he asked.

Ricalli smiled, apparently amused.  “No,” he said very quietly.  “But why spoil their fun if you are useless alive?”

“I’m what you call a Key.”

“Are you?”  There was a note of mocking doubt in Ricalli’s tone, but the old black eyes knew the truth, and Russ wasn’t about to fall for it.

“Yes.”  He didn’t give Ricalli anything more; there was something very insulting about being challenged by someone who didn’t actually doubt him.

“Tell me—” Ricalli was, as ever, unperturbed by Russ’s short answer, “—what use are you to me, as a Key?”

“That—” Russ tried to match his careless tone, “—is something you know better than me.”

Ricalli’s smile curled up in a way that was very much like the Chesire cat, and he said, “You are afraid, no matter how much you strive to hide it.”

Russ frowned at him and said nothing.  He didn’t know if he was being tested, or teased, but either way it seemed the less he gave away, the better.

“Tender hearted, too,” Ricalli observed, as if he were saying, “Mentally retarded, too.”  He tilted his head slightly and looked at the little girl.  “Hard to defend yourself with that lump around your neck.”

“She’s not a lump, she’s a little girl, and her name is—” Russ broke off abruptly, realizing that he didn’t know her name, and that Ricalli was looking very smug at the way he had swallowed the bait.

“Well?  Her name is . . . ?”

“I doubt you care,” Russ said, sullenly, frustrated with his loss of composure.

“What is your name, girl?” Ricalli asked in a commanding voice.

“Fortya,” the girl squeaked, unable to summon a shred of defiance.

“Fortya, what a pretty name,” Ricalli cooed, in a very unsettling manner.  Then he grew abruptly business like, and turned away, putting his back to both of them.  He spoke to his “children,” who hung on his every word like hopeful puppies.

“Since I am here you no longer need the girl’s blood, and as the Key seems to find her treatment so very distressful, you’ll leave her alone unless you want him to run around biting you all like a mad dog.  You will not touch the Key, until I say you may.  Before then, you leave him to me.

“Now, tell me, where is this self proclaimed goddess, the one calling herself Alisiya?  Ullari?  I don’t see her.”

Ullari responded in a helpless tone, and Ricalli scoffed, “Hiding?  Why would ‘Alisiya’ hide from me, her nephew twice over?  She was never fond of me, I must admit, but she was never afraid of me.  Not in the least.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Alisiya’s voice came from behind, and Russ turned.  She stood by the steps, face composed and expressionless.  Even her changeable eyes were calm.

Ricalli also turned toward her, and laughed explosively.  It made Russ jump despite himself.

“Alisiya, you call yourself,” he said.  “You are not a daughter of the sun god, you are no more than a human woman.  Anyone with half a brain can tell that at a glance.”

Alisiya tilted her chin up, and Ricalli’s followers looked deeply ashamed of themselves.

He went on.  “She speaks a human tongue, did not that alert you?  Or did you swallow some preposterous lie about it?”

Ullari answered, and Ricalli simply snorted.  “Who are you?” he barked at Alisiya.  “What is your real name?”

She regarded him silently for a long moment, then said, “Alisiya.  As to who my true father is, that is none of your business.”