Alisiyad Chapter 28 ~ Daughter of the Sun God

Alisiya looked down at the remains of the Ricallyn priest, her expression inscrutable, then she looked again at Russ.  A thin smile spread over her face.  “Well, this is unfortunate,” she said.  “You want to make things difficult, do you?”

“Stay away,” Russ growled, turning the knife menacingly in his hand.

She laughed.  “You think you can hurt me?”  She turned her back on him, pointedly, and spoke to a nervous Ricallyn at her elbow.  The man looked none too pleased with the turn of events, and gestured toward Russ, the sleeve of his gray robe flapping in agitation.

Russ thought, briefly, about stabbing Alisiya in the back, but ruled it out.  The moment he made a move toward her one of the Ricallyn would warn her, or she would sense him, and he hadn’t forgotten the control she could wield over him.

He wiped his forehead shakily with the back of one hand, feeling dizzy now.  His senses were heightened by the drink he’d been given, but it was all too much for him — he wasn’t used to it and it confused him.  He could feel his cuts and bruises stinging and throbbing and the pain was nearly overwhelming, but he fought to ignore it.  He had to pay attention to what was going on around him, so they couldn’t get him again.

Alisiya was still talking to the Ricallyn man; they were both gesturing now.  He wished he knew what they were saying.  Alisiya sounded annoyed . . . that was probably a good thing . . . wasn’t it?

There was movement to his right, he swung the dagger towards it and saw a man draw back warily.  Russ looked to his left, menacing the Ricallyn on that side of the room, wishing for more protection than the altar at his back.  One little dagger would do nothing if they decided to attack him all at once.

“Look what you’ve done now!”  Alisiya’s voice brought her back to his attention.  She stood closer now, eyes flashing down at him.  “They refuse to continue with the ritual, you’ve ruined it and they are upset with me for bringing you here.”

He met her gaze defiantly.  “Am I supposed to be ashamed or something?”

“You have ruined everything.”  Alisiya trembled with anger.  “I should have killed you long ago.”

“What are you gonna do?” Russ asked, gripping the knife.

“I’m not going to kill you right now, if that’s what you are asking,” Alisiya’s tone turned lofty.  “I must convince the Ricallyn that you are still valuable to them, that you are still a gift they ought to be grateful for.  We have discussed our little problem—” she glanced toward the man, who stood patiently now, watching and waiting “—and the Ricallyn wish to consult their leader before continuing.”

“What?”

“Are you dense?  What am I saying, of course you are.”  Alisiya sneered.  “Get dressed, we are going upstairs, to the roof.”

“I’m not doing anything until I know what you’re planning,” Russ replied evenly.  He’d like nothing more than to have his clothes on again, but if it was an order from Alisiya . . . .

Alisiya was trying to look composed, but Russ didn’t miss the agitated color of her eyes or the way she clenched her fists.  She smiled, and said in a low voice, “I’m not planning anything, it is our delightful hosts who want us on the roof.  They tell me they must summon Ricalli, and he will decide what to do with us.”

“Us?” Russ echoed.

Alisiya turned around abruptly and said something in Adayzjian.  Russ lost sight of her then — she disappeared into the densely packed robes, and he was forced to switch his attention back to the Ricallyn who approached him warily.  He saw that one of them held his clothes, the clothes Currun had assigned to him before they left for Varaneshe.  He wondered if it was a trap, but let the woman come closer anyway.  She put the clothes down on the floor and backed away.  Russ almost laughed at them treating him like some wild, dangerous creature.  But then he did laugh outright when he had to reach over the dead man to pick up his clothes.  Russ Markson: Killer.  It was just too funny.

He dressed without taking his eyes off them, and they watched him in turn.  It was a weird experience, but then weird was his new normal.  Only a few Ricallyn had lingered to monitor him, the others were filtering out the dark room.  Going up to the roof, no doubt.  Russ was a little worried about what was to happen up there . . . and had half a mind to stay away.  He had the dagger, after all, and the Ricallyn seemed to be a little afraid of him now (I’ll bet they regret giving me their little power drink now, don’t they?  Ha!) so he didn’t have to just docilely go wherever they wanted him.

He certainly didn’t want to be around when they summoned Ricalli.

What to do?  He finished dressing and slid the knife into his belt, feeling a little less jumpy now.  He frowned at the waiting Ricallyn, wondering what they were expecting of him next.  They simply stared back at him.  Slowly, he stepped over the priest, one hand still on the dagger hilt.  He didn’t want to wave it around and make them attack him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it out of his possession.

Strangely, it seemed to him, the Ricallyn kept their distance, moving with him as he walked cautiously toward the door.  Once he was out of the dark chamber he wanted to make a run for the main doors, but till then he moved very slowly.  Breathing, rustling fabric, and the fall of footsteps were the only noises he heard, but they were magnified in his hearing to echo through the room.

As he neared the doors he noticed that the Ricallyn were circling him; his back tingled with a nervous unguarded feeling.  Surrounded, now what?  He glanced around.  He was in much better shape than he’d been on the altar, clamped down and naked with a knife digging into him, but ease was a long way off.

The hope that he could make a run for the doors died when he saw the guards.  Even if he managed to get away from the circle that had formed around him, his escort, he’d only be running straight into more of them.  He muttered a curse under his breath in frustration, and turned as his circle turned.  They were herding him.

On second thought, maybe the roof won’t be so bad.  He’d be outside, and perhaps there’d be some steps or a ladder down from the roof that he could get to if he could shake the Ricallyn.  If worse came to worse he could jump and take his chances hitting the ground, rather than being their sacrificial Key-boy.  If he tried to break free now they’d just mob him and throw him in chains again, and he’d miss the chance of getting free up on the roof where there might be a place to go.

So he continued walking, hedged in by the silent escort.  They went up an endless seeming flight of steps, and then a door opened up into blindingly bright sunlight.  It drove into Russ’s sensitive eyes and made him stumble back, lifting one arm to block the light.  It would pass, though, it had to pass.  Even drugged into a hyper alert state he would have to get acclimated to the light, or die.  So he lowered his arm and squinted as they walked out onto the wide, flat roof of the Ricallyn temple.

They were all gathered together up there like a flock of crows milling about.  Alisiya stood apart from them, aloof and condescending.  Apparently she wanted them to know how displeased she was with them for second guessing her — Russ saw fear gnawing at her.  She should have listened to him, back in the alley, he thought with grim satisfaction.  It’s not so easy controlling people when you don’t have a magical hold on them, is it?

He joined her.  He had no choice, he was herded over there by his ring of escorts, who dispersed now that they had him where they wanted him.  Standing next to Alisiya, he looked over the roof at where it jutted out like an arrow over the city.  He’d noticed it when he first came, from his vantagepoint below, and wondered now what exactly it was for.  Couldn’t be anything good.

There was another altar up on the roof, right before the protruding segment.  He got a sinking feeling.  Did “summoning Ricalli” involve the same sort of ritual as bleeding a Key did?  Were they going to try getting him on that altar?  Fat fucking chance.

“What’s going on?” he asked Alisiya, wishing that there was someone else around who could speak and understand English.  He wished he never had to talk to her again.

She didn’t answer, or turn to look at him.

“Well?  This was all your idea, I’d think you’d know what’s going on.”

“I told you,” she said icily, “they are summoning their leader, Ricalli.”

“Yeah, but how?”

“If you can stop talking for once and simply observe, you will find out.”

“You don’t have a clue, then.”

“Yes, I don’t know what they are up to.  I dragged you into this world, to this temple, without knowing exactly what I was getting into.  Does that suffice, or would you like to belabor the point further?”

“Nope.”

They stood in silence then, watching.  It was somewhat satisfying to know that Alisiya was just as helpless and in trouble as he was.  At least, if she couldn’t figure out a way to stop the Ricallyn from doubting her, she was in trouble.  Well, she sure as hell wasn’t gonna get any help from him.