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The City of One Million Lights
The Cambion Chronicles 2.5
Sabyse survived a nightmarish ordeal of vengeance. Now, she has to deal with what comes next. Away from everything she once knew, can Sabyse adjust to a new life of travel with a half-demon assassin?
Set after the events of The Demon's Peace. Contains spoilers for that book.
Sabyse closed her eyes, pulling the covers over her head. Strange voices floated up from the streets below, in languages she didn’t know. The sounds differed completely from Kataphedios—the only home she’d ever known.
What was she doing here? A middle-aged woman who’d never left her own island before.
When she’d decided to leave Katapahedios, she hadn’t realized how different the outside world would be. No one on the mainland of Adhova spoke her native tongue, Eltian. She barely recognized the food, and when she’d tried a local soup, it’d nearly scorched the roof of her mouth. Nothing was familiar. It was safer to stay in bed.
The floorboards creaked. “Time to rise.” Thaena’s crisp voice came from beyond the sheets. “You’re missing the best part of the day.”
Sabyse clutched the bedclothes tighter around her head. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Thaena said. “I agree it can be shocking to go forth into the world, but you need to get up.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to stop at one of the finest teahouses in the country, and you’ll miss out if you want to spend all day hiding in the hotel.”
Sabyse’s stomach churned. Even if she didn’t share Thaena’s endless appetite for tea, she needed breakfast. Reluctantly, she threw off her covers and shambled to the washbasin in the tiled bathroom, splashing her face. She pawed through her pink traveling bag, which once belonged to her daughter, and extracted a worn, shapeless, blue dress. Feeling shabby when compared to Thaena’s elegant yellow and gold gown, Sabyse followed the woman to the street outside their hotel and was nearly drenched by a spray of mud from a passing truck, saved only when Thaena drew her to one side at the last moment.
The small port city of Rakapur was on the southwestern coast of Adhova, part of the nation of Kapahai in the Lionmarches. This street traversed the main business district. Around her, conical stone towers reached into the sky, their exteriors peppered with irregular windows, their surfaces furrowed and worn with root-shaped or branching patterns. According to the tourist brochure, termite mounds had inspired the traditional architecture.
Despite this grandeur, trucks rumbled past; people, with a variety of warm, dark skin tones and shocks of black or red hair, wandered by. Some wore Stormfielder clothes, or suits, while others sported different garments of bright blue, green, and yellow, much like parrots.
They turned off the main street, where Sabyse recognized the square buildings with the grand colonnades. “That’s Stormfielder architecture.”
“Yes, they occupied the country for a long time.” Thaena slightly pursed her lips, a sign of the loathing she had for the warlike nation that dominated the eastern side of the continent. “There’s a bit of a movement happening to return everything to what they think it would have been. That marble building over there was a former governor’s mansion, now a museum about their war for independence. Interested?”
“No.” Sabyse’s throat dried, images of Kastine’s gallery rising clawing their way to the forefront of her mind. Even in the hot sunlight, the terrible smell of the old woman burning to a crisp in front of her scoured the back of her throat. Her fingers curled in hatred. She’d never forgive Kastine for what she’d done. “I have had enough of Stormfielders.”
Thaena nodded and led Sabyse across the road to a colonnaded marble building where people sat outside sipping tea.
“Is this the place?”
“No. That’s a trap for the rich tourists,” Thaena said. “Here.” She reached the end of the street, turned left and as though walking into another world, a bazaar spread out before them. More sprawling than the roadside stalls on Kataphedios, the trestle tables were heaped high with spices, clothes, potted plants, and electronic parts. Chickens bok-bokked from cages, while a multitude of cats lounged in the corners.
Thaena wended between the stalls to a nondescript alley with occasional rows of blue-painted doors. She knocked at one, and a man wearing a white apron led them into a courtyard. If you didn’t know the place was there, you’d never have found it. Around the assembled chairs was a garden of pots, dominated by scrubby, fat-leafed plants.
The two sat beside a spiked, grassy plant in a glazed green pot. Thaena glanced briefly at the menu and spoke to the waiter in the local language. He bustled off.
“I’ve ordered for you,” Thaena said. “Simple fare, until you acclimatize to more interesting food.”
“You mean that stuff that burns the roof of my mouth off?” Sabyse ran her hands through her greying hair. “I used to like that. Before my marriage.”
Thaena nodded, and they sat in a silence that felt both awkward and contemplative. Sabyse wished she knew what to say. Thaena was so reserved and hard to read.
When they’d left Kataphedios weeks ago, Thaena had insisted she only wanted companionship, to figure out who she was away from Damiana—another cambion she’d spent decades mourning.
And yet there had been something between Sabyse and Thaena.
Sabyse struggled to articulate it. Undercurrents. Something unspoken in the way Thaena looked at her. And while Sabyse had thoughts about being with another woman, she did not know what it all meant. All she had was that single kiss with Kiraphae on the docks before she’d run off in shock. Then she’d entered that nightmare marriage to keep the shop. Until Sabyse encountered that part of herself in the dream world, she’d never really confronted her long-buried desires for other women.
Oh, this was so confusing. Perhaps it was best to let things lie.
Their tea arrived, and Sabyse took a sip; a mild flavor she couldn’t place, like lemon and mint and something else. She forced herself to speak; she’d run a shop and was good at small talk. “Were you born here?”
“No,” Thaena said. “My country was to the northwest of here. It no longer exists.”
“What happened?”
Thaena gave a chill smile. “How it usually goes. Another country invaded mine. The palace where I was born is now in ruins.”
“Are you…” Sabyse paused. “Are you a princess?” The word had a storybook quality. Kataphedios had no kings, instead ruled by its organized crime families who may as well have been nobles for the airs they gave themselves.
“People became royalty because their ancestors once seized power.” Thaena sipped her tea. “There’s nothing special about it.” She drummed her fingers on the table, like a cat lashing its tail back and forth. She didn’t like direct personal questions, so Sabyse was about to ask about the local customs, when Thaena asked: “What do you want to do?”
Sabyse played with her teacup, twisting it back and forth on its saucer. That was the sort of question she didn’t want to confront. “I don’t know,” she said after a while. “I don’t speak the language.”
“You speak Standard,” Thaena said. “Most people know it. You can’t get away from the Stormfielders these days, with their money pouring into everything. Their books, films, and radio serials. Anyway, people are still people, no matter where you go. Is there anything you’d like to do?” A faint note of tension radiated through her. As though Thaena, an immortal cambion assassin, was just as nervous as Sabyse was right now.
Sabyse spoke the first thing that came into her mind. “How about shopping?”
Thaena’s eyes brightened.
They spent the morning drifting through the streets, shops, and stalls. Thaena bought some new teas. Sabyse, overwhelmed with everything, simply looked and studied people.
People are still people, Thaena had told her, and the more she watched the locals, the more she realized it was true. Over there, a large man in a pink shirt argued with a shopkeeper over a length of garden hose; children ran by playing tag, and merchants trudged along with laden donkeys. Sabyse drifted away from Thaena, keeping the cambion in a line of sight as she strolled past stalls full of spices like saffron, racks of brightly-colored garments. A series of clay statues of strange local animals, such as lions and huge, long-necked antelopes, intrigued her, but she didn’t have a house or a place to put things.
And then she saw the bookstall. The tables were cluttered with books, periodicals, and even cases of vinyl records. Sabyse sorted through the magazines, and pulled out something worn and familiar: a fat, blue-bordered special edition of the Royal Cartographic Magazine. Published in the Stormfields, the magazine had been popular on Kataphedios with its brightly-colored photographs of different regions, festivals, and civilizations in their national costumes. “Wonders of the World.” She turned the crinkled pages.
“Only five hundred rukats,” the shopkeeper’s accented voice cut in.
That seemed excessive compared to the prices Sabyse had inferred from overhearing the local shoppers all morning. She’d run a shop herself, and knew to always charge higher for visiting tourists.
“I don’t have a lot of money.” Sabyse’s frugal appearance supported her words. “How about three hundred?”
“Five hundred.”
“But it’s damaged, and the pages are stuck together.” Sabyse demonstrated. “How about three-fifty?”
After some haggling, the woman named a price, and Sabyse agreed to it. She made a show of counting a handful of coins and banknotes, her magazine tucked under one arm. Under the cool of a tent, she studied the miraculous superstructures sprinkled across the continent.
Left over from the previous age, before the Battle of Reladon had seen the end of all magic—although Sabyse had learned it was more like ‘most’ magic—the Wonders were amazing structures and no one knew why they had been built or what they had represented.
Sabyse unstuck the pages, marveled at the different creations. The Crystal Titan of Ringwall. The Painted Labyrinth. And there, on page 74, a small photograph of something familiar: the Demon’s Peace statue on ‘Refuge Island,’ rather than Kataphedios. The Stormfielders had this irritating habit of translating local terms into their own language, as if they were the only people and language in the universe. And as Sabyse studied it, the idea bloomed within her.
“Found something?” Thaena asked over her shoulder.
Sabyse stiffened, her heart thumping mercilessly. She took a deep breath and focused on her magazine. “I want to see the Wonders of the World. All the amazing things that survived the Battle of Reladon.”
Thaena snorted. “Most of them are tourist traps. Filled with pilgrims and sightseers, cluttered with plastic waste and merchant stalls.”
“It says there's one close to here.” Sabyse studied the article. “The City of a Million Lights. There’s a whole feature on it.”
“Urahimmar.” Thaena stared into the distance, expression considering. “The festival is next week. That’s when they light all the candles, and the crystalline walls of the city glow in response.”
Sabyse beamed. “Then let’s go!”
Sabyse regretted her enthusiasm to see the City of One Million Lights as she struggled up the trail. Her legs ached, her backpack felt like it was full of rocks, and it had only been two days of walking, with many generous stops. Thaena moved ahead, waiting. Both women wore simple, worn, traveling clothes, second-hand. Thaena had said the best way to travel was to look poor, to avoid being attacked by bandits.
The City had several approaches, but the closest took them through a narrow mountain pass. As they hiked, small groups of travelers overtook them. Most were dressed in simple clothes, carrying bulging packs or bags. Some used hiking sticks or gnarled staves. Others plodded slowly forward on donkeys. Most of the people she’d seen so far had been humans, but the farther they travelled, more dwarrow passed. A stout, short variety of hominin, and very hirsute, they often lived in mountainous areas. Sabyse waved awkwardly at them; the only non-humans she was used to were the Kekukag ogres from her homeland. Some waved back, and others scarcely glanced at Sabyse as they stomped past.
It was a relief when they arrived at the first camping spot. The magazine had spoken of a ‘lodge,’ although it was more of a rough shed set into the mountain walls. And it was filled with people. A mix of humans and dwarrow sprawled on blankets and sleeping bags, talking loudly to each other. Some studied books while others stood in a circle, heads bowed in prayer. Two donkeys chewed from feedbags in the corner. Sabyse tried not to stare at the dwarrow women with their long, braided sideburns.
These people, with a mix of skin tones, suggested they were travelers from all parts of the continent. Some of their traveling gear, packs, and sleeping rolls were brand new. One even had a price tag still on it.
Thaena wrinkled her nose as she studied the group. “Are you sure you need to rest?”
“Yes.” Sabyse rubbed at her aching legs. “Please.”
Thaena sighed, but unrolled their sleeping bag, which doubled as a comfortable mat, in a corner of the shelter. Sabyse sat gingerly. Everything hurt. “If I take these socks off, my feet will have turned to blisters.”
“It takes a while to adjust,” Thaena said.
Sabyse collapsed on her sleeping bag.
As Sabyse relaxed, Thaena tensed suddenly as a dwarrow man wandered over from the group. With his clay-brown skin, and red, woolly hair, he reminded Sabyse of a mountain goat.
“Greetings.” He bowed, speaking in accented Standard. “I am Gundar Gurbashi Sangat, the guide for Gundar Travel. Travel with Gundar, and see the Wonders.” He beamed. Tiny gems glinted in his beard.
“We’re not interested.” Thaena pretended to study her nails.
“All I am saying is that it is very dangerous these days journeying through the mountains,” Gundar went on. “Especially for two ladies traveling alone. I can—”
“We’re not interested,” Thaena repeated.
Sabyse wondered if Thaena had laced some cambion magic into her words, as Gundar scrabbled back to the rest of the group.
“Is it wrong to travel with them?” Sabyse asked quietly in Eltian.
“He just wants money,” Thaena said. “These people are rich tourists. He’s getting enough from them.”
“I wonder why they didn’t get the bus up from the main road.”
“Given that they’re babbling bits from the Book of the Light, I suspect they’re pilgrims,” Thaena said. “Some people think the Wonders are holy sites, and that walking up a mountain is more pious than catching a bus.” She glared at the crowd. “Real piety is rare.”
“Perhaps I can move again,” Sabyse offered, noting how Thaena brightened. The cambion certainly disliked other people.
“We should fill up our water from the spring first.” Thaena eyed the queue of people with distaste, and her jaw clenched.
“I’ll do it.” Sabyse collected their bottles and queued with the others
In front of her, a woman in a deep-blue headscarf chatted with a young girl, about seven, who resembled her. “Is she your daughter?” Sabyse asked, wondering if these rich people spoke Standard.
“Yes! This is Sanat. I’m Amma.” The girl hid behind her mother and whispered something.
“She wants to know where you are from,” Amma said.
“Kataphedios.”
Both mother and daughter looked confused.
“It’s a small island in the Eltian Archipelago,” Sabyse explained. “South of the Vaultlands.”
The girl gasped. “Are you a pirate?”
Sabyse shook her head. “I ran a shop.” Technically, the Summit Lords—the organized crime families that governed Kataphedios in all but name—were pirates, but she didn’t think the rest of the world needed to know that. “We sold many things.” Unbidden, an image of the shop where she had lived all her life, and which she had abandoned to journey with Thaena, came to her mind, with its rows of cluttered shelves, and the empty room where her daughter had once been.
“Are you visiting the festival?” Sabyse asked.
“Yes,” Amma beamed. “This is my first pilgrimage. We’ve wanted to travel for years.” She indicated an older man with a long, white beard dozing in the corner. “Except my husband is dull. He wants to stay at home all day. He’s only here because our priest instructed that he needs to complete at least one pilgrimage.” She sighed. “Maulum thinks this will be our first and last, but I want to see the Pillars of Light, and more besides.”
Sabyse kept her face blank. Like her marriage to Taranthys, poor Amma was married to a man three times her age. Still, it didn’t seem to be bad for the woman. Taranthys had rarely let Sabyse leave the house. At least Amma looked rich and happy. And had a healthy, living daughter. A bitter sense of grief hit Sabyse, and she thought once more of how Aureke would have enjoyed this trip. Her daughter had been so wild and restless. Sabyse closed her eyes briefly, thinking of the bomb at the temple, the sudden absence of the only person she’d ever really loved from her life. “Well, I hope you get a chance.”
“Are you married?” Amma asked.
“No,” Sabyse said. “My husband died many years ago. I’m traveling with a friend.” She tried to keep her face blank, as the image of Taranthys’s ghost on Kataphedios leered in her mind’s eye, his face a bloody mask where she had shot him.
Amma tilted her head to one side. “Bless you, in the Light!”
“Bless you,” Sabyse managed. She had soured on religion; after all, the Saints had done nothing to stop her abusive husband, or avenge Aureke. She’d had to rely on infernal aid instead. Still, she didn’t wish to disparage the beliefs of others. The queue moved, and she refilled their water bottles at the mountain spring.
At last, she returned to Thaena, where the cambion had already gathered up both their belongings in neat bundles. Sabyse followed behind, while Thaena easily carried both their packs.
After a few more hours of travel, Sabyse had to stop. Thaena set up camp in a small cleft away from the road, much happier now than they had been earlier.
“It’s different from Kataphedios.” Sabyse studied the sky as she rested. It was near evening, and the sky was a bright cascade of sunset colors: blue and pink, gold and red.
“We’re not so far south,” Thaena said. “Closer to the equator. The more we head north, the more the ring will be directly overhead.”
“Aureke.” Sabyse sat up. “She would have loved this.” She ached for a stronger memento of her daughter than this simple pink travel bag.
“Part of her still lives with you,” Thaena said. “In your memories.”
Sabyse rubbed at her thighs. “My legs will feel terrible tomorrow.”
“Do you want a massage?” Thaena asked.
Sabyse had heard of such things, but were they really appropriate? She reminded herself she was traveling and trying new experiences, and no longer had to fit into a conservative little island town.
“Alright.” Sabyse watched with interest as Thaena came over, feeling her heart skip a little as she smelled the cambion’s cedarwood perfume. Then that moment ended as Thaena jabbed her fingers into Sabyse’s sore muscles. “Argh!”
“Relax,” Thaena ordered. “It won’t work if you tense up.”
Sabyse forced herself to let go, to surrender. She had a high pain threshold after living with Taranthys, and after a while, she was surprised to find that she enjoyed Thaena digging into muscles. Once finished, they ate their travel rations of dried lamb strips and lay back on their pallets, watching the stars.
“Are you awake?” Sabyse asked.
“Yes.”
“What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
Sabyse’s throat turned to ash. “Between two women.”
“Pleasant,” Thaena said. “Very pleasant.” And that was all she said.
Sabyse frowned. What did women do together? All of Sabyse’s sexual experience had been with Taranthys, who’d wanted her to lie still on her back while he did his business in her. After that, he would grunt, roll over, and sleep.
But he was dead, and she was somewhere else.
Relaxed, she stared at the stars above.
Sabyse jerked awake in the night. Thaena was up, quickly packing her things.
“What’s wrong?” Sabyse rubbed her eyes.
“Someone’s crying out for vengeance,” Thaena said. “I have to go. Come with me. It may be too dangerous for you to wait here alone.”
Sabyse crawled off her pallet, reaching for her boots.
“Shake them.” Thaena rolled up her sleeping bag. “In case of scorpions.”
“Scorpions!” Sabyse waved her footwear, but no arachnids tumbled out. Nothing did. Thank goodness. “Oh, I didn’t hear any cries.”
“It’s more of a….” Thaena paused. “A cambion matter. Hurry.”
Sabyse quickly finished lacing on her boots, wincing at the smell of her socks. Soon, the two women had packed and hurried back down the trail. Things like this reminded Sabyse that her companion wasn’t completely human. Thaena had sworn a pact with a demon centuries ago, and bore its ‘vestige.’ Whatever that was. But Sabyse knew Thaena could shift into a monstrous demonic form.
In exchange for power, Thaena made pacts with people for vengeance, killing evildoers and dispatching their souls to her patron in Hell. As Thaena had done for Sabyse, to avenge Aureke, and would continue to do for others. While Sabyse was somewhat uncomfortable traveling with the assassin, she accepted it for now.
Scarcely twenty minutes down the trail was the tour group, scattered in disarray. Amma wept over a fallen man’s body, tearing at her hair. Flashlights illuminated the scene, where people cried, clutched bloodied clothing, and others attempted to apply bandages to wounds.
In the dim light, Sabyse searched for Amma’s daughter, Sanat. To her relief, the child was near her mother, half-hidden by the folds of mountain stone.
There was no sign of Gundar.
Thaena slipped through the group and went immediately to Amma. People looked up as Thaena and Sabyse arrived, but were more confused than anything else.
“I can help you,” Thaena told Amma. “What happened?”
“The bandits,” Amma choked. “We gave them everything. Everything they asked for. But Maulum, my husband, took too long to display his clan gems. The bandit leader shot him! Awwaah! Blessed Light, what will I do?”
“Others have also been shot.” Sabyse wondered if she were cruel for not caring about an old husband. At least three other people lay on the ground, groaning, arms wrapped in blood-soaked bandages.
“But they live!” Amma wailed. “My husband is no more!”
“Where is the guide?” Thaena studied the group, as if Gundar were hiding.
“He argued with the bandits, and they dragged him up the path.” Amma pointed at a thin trail splitting off the main one, that continued up the side of the mountain.
“Did you hear what they were arguing about?” Thaena asked.
“I didn’t understand their dialect,” she said. “No one did. My poor husband! Why would they do that?”
“Do you want revenge on who did this?” Thaena asked in a low voice, lightly touching Amma’s arm.
“Yes,” the woman sobbed. “I want to look them in the eyes. I want them to tell me why they did this.” Then she jerked back, as if stung.
Thaena rose to her feet like a leopard eagerly sensing prey. “As agreed, I’ll find out who did this and bring them to you.”
“Shall I come?” Sabyse asked.
“No,” Thaena said. “Get these people to Urahimmar. The wounded need a doctor.” She gestured at the other people with their blood-soaked bandages.
“You shouldn’t move wounded people.” Sabyse knew that from her father, a war veteran.
“More bandits could arrive. You’re vulnerable. Best thing is to get going.” Thaena’s posture was both tense and eager. “If you leave now, you’ll get there just after daybreak.”
“I’m not a guide,” Sabyse protested.
“You’re a sensible person. You can do this. You’ve got that book.”
Thaena turned, her voice carrying over the group with calm authority. “Everyone, get moving to the City. Sabyse is in charge.” And with that, Thaena sprinted up the narrow trail, leaving Sabyse with a small crowd of terrified, disorganized people staring at her.
She stared back, heart sinking, and then forced herself to speak. “Time to pack up!” she called, her voice surprisingly clear. “We need to push on and reach the City of One Million Lights. We can get there after daybreak.” She checked on everyone, as though she were still a shopkeeper reviewing her inventory. Sixteen people, two donkeys. One dead, four wounded. One youth was only lightly winged, and one woman shivered on the ground, blood soaking into the cloth wound around her bandaged thigh. “My mother!” A milky-skinned man trembled next to her. “She can’t walk.”
Sabyse looked around at the donkeys. “She can ride.”
“My husband,” Amma interrupted. “We will need to carry his body! We cannot abandon him to the vultures.”
“My mother needs to ride!” the young man demanded. “The living are more important than the dead.”
“My husband is a respected man,” Amman snapped. “We will not leave him!”
Sabyse took a deep breath. “Let’s take everything we don’t need off the donkeys. Everyone will have to carry their own bags. Who’s got experience with the beast?”
A stout dwarrow woman raised her hand. “I used to run baggage trains in the markets.” Her long, braided sideburns were tinged with grey.
“That was fifty years ago, grandmother,” a younger dwarrow said to her side. A thick, dark beard concealed his lower face.
“So?” she growled. “There are some things you don’t forget.”
“Let’s get to work,” Sabyse said, aware that time was passing quickly.
They unloaded the donkeys and settled the wounded and the body of Maulum on the beasts.
While sorting through what to leave and what to keep, Sabyse discovered a ledger stuffed full of banknotes and cheques, tucked into a pannier that had to belong to Gundar Gurbashi Sangat. Interestingly, while Sabyse couldn’t read the words, they used the same numbers as Eltian. She squinted at them, trying to figure them out, but then put the book in her own bag when another argument broke out.
“I will not carry my bags,” a rotund man said. “They are too heavy. I paid extra to have the donkeys transport them.”
“Leave them,” Sabyse said.
“Do you know who I am?” he bristled.
A few people may have known and stood back, but Sabyse had dealt with the Vasedes family and had her fill of self-important ‘do you know who I am’ types.
“No, I don’t,” she snapped. “I’m a foreigner. But I want to get to the City of One Million Lights, and living people take priority over your bags.”
“How dare you!”
Sabyse glanced at the holy symbols hanging from the man’s neck: the upward triangle for the light, the twelve-pointed star of harmony, and the various icons for the Saints. “Aren’t you a pilgrim? Did the Saints fight about luggage, and who got to ride donkeys? Did Saint Zeranis, the prince, say, ‘Because I’m richer than you all, because my parents were special, I get more privileges?’”
She stepped forward, and the man backed away. “No. They shut up, did what they had to. Because they had a job to do. They had to go to Reladon and fight the Dark Emperor. Your task is to travel to the City.”
The man blinked.
Were she by herself, Sabyse might have failed, but by invoking the Saints, the grandmother shouted loudly. “Yes! We must move on.”
Amma said, “Please, sir, perhaps we could take turns sharing each other’s luggage.”
Sabyse turned away from them. “Leave anything you don’t need behind. You can come back for it.” Rich people could certainly handle losing their possessions more than the poor.
At last, the pilgrims agreed, and slowly marched up the trail towards their destination. Away from the city, stars swept above; Marmaruk, the planetary ring sliced through the northern part of the sky like a knife of light.
Sabyse monitored the group, repeatedly counting them like a school mistress. Even being a temporary tour guide was stressful.
As she slowly walked along, Amma approached, her daughter asleep in her arms.
‘Who was the woman with you?” she whispered. “The Tashkalan? I felt something… strange when she asked me about vengeance.”
Sabyse had made her own infernal contract with Thaena and it had burned her soul like fire. There was no concealing from this woman that something supernatural had happened. And yet, given how religious Amma seemed, Sabyse didn’t want to explain she’d inadvertently invoked the laws of dead gods that linked cambions to prayers of vengeance.
“She’s special,” Sabyse said instead. “We travel together, and she does what has to be done.”
“Were you sent by the Light?” Amma hefted her daughter.
Sabyse said, “We’re here to help. That’s all. Let’s focus on getting to the City.”
Every so often, the pilgrims had to stop and rest, and each time it got harder to get them moving again. The grandmother, in her booming voice, recited passages from the Book of Light about overcoming hardship. Some of them sang ragged hymns, and soon the group plodded down the trail. As Sabyse waited, she flicked through the ledger, her flashlight skimming along the pages.
And then the long sunrise came, covering the surrounding sky in bands of purple with a deep yellow border. Kataphedios had been a small, mountainous island, she had seen nothing like this before.
Below them sprawled a city carved into the mountain rock, its crystalline walls reflecting the light of myriad candles that gave the location an unearthly glow—a welcome hearth fire coming to light. Strange, twisted towers, like clawed hands, rose into the sky, covering the structure. Whyever had their ancestors built this place?
In the early dawn, the streets came alive. People were setting up street-side stalls, laden donkeys trundled through the roads, and battered vehicles drove slowly through the crowds. Despite these people living amidst a holy wonder, things continued apace.
The group’s flagging spirits rose, and they began their descent.
As Sabyse headed down the steep path (why was going down harder than going up?), a shadowy figure emerged on the trail, dragging the squat figure of Gundar behind her.
“Thaena!” Sabyse said.
The cambion pushed the tour guide in front of her. He sprawled on the stone path of the trail, and Thaena placed a foot on his back. “Tell them.”
He gulped.
“Tell them.” Thaena’s voice rang out. She bent down, dragging the guide to his knees.
“But...”
“Tell them.”
“I was working with the bandits,” Gundar cried.
The group gasped, pulled away, muttering.
Gundar twisted his hands together. “No one was supposed to die,” he blurted. “Believe me! We had a deal. They would appear, take your valuables, and afterwards, we would meet up at Urahimmar and I would get a share. But it didn’t go as planned. The leader got very aggressive when people were slow. He shot the old man…”
“My husband!” Amma cried
“But it was all an accident!” Gundar protested.
“With one man dead, and four wounded?” Sabyse snapped. “That is not an accident.”
“He wasn’t supposed to die,” Gundar wailed.
“But he did.” Thaena stood over the man.
Amma kept staring at Gundar. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“My mother, she is very sick and—”
“I’ve been looking at your ledger,” Sabyse interrupted and waved the book. “These look more like gambling expenses. My husband was like you. He wasted all our savings on cards and dice. You should give everyone back their money. It’s all here, isn’t it?”
Thaena threw a bag from her shoulder onto the ground. “I took some valuables from the bandits.”
“But.. but…” Gundar closed his eyes.
“The bandits have been dealt with." Thaena reached down, gripping Gundar by the shoulders. “Time to take you into the foothills and deal with you there.”
“No, no!” Gundar screamed. “I saw what she did! What she is! Please!” He groveled before Amma. “Please, tell her to spare me! I am a very stupid, foolish man—”
“No.” Thaena dragged Gundar for a few steps.
Amma stared. “Let him go!”
“What?” Thaena stopped, shaking all over. Sabyse knew the woman was fighting to control the demon inside, and slipped over to Thaena’s side, resting a hand on the cambion’s trembling shoulder.
“Are we not on a pilgrimage?” Amma said. “Did not Saint Elystane spare the bandits who attacked her? Did they not promise to do no further harm?”
“Yes!” Gundar scrabbled upwards. “I swear, never to be weak and foolish, to help the poor and sick, to never deal with bandits again!” He gave a broad, awkward smile.
“You can give us all our money back,” the grandmother said.
“We’ll hand you over to the police at Urahimmar,” the rich man said. “Don’t you know who I am?”
Gundar must have, because sweat beaded on his brow, and his cheek flushed.
Without warning, Thaena turned. “You deal with them,” she hissed at Sabyse, then sprinted into the foothills. Sabyse reached out, but her fingers only caught on empty air.
Everyone stared, and Sabyse stood, unsure of what to do. Thaena was usually so controlled, so normal. Until she wasn’t.
Gundar grasped and struggled.
“Let’s tie him up,” Sabyse suggested, and she and the grandmother secured Gundar with a length of clothesline. “Now, let’s get moving.”
“Release me,” Gundar pleaded. “I was pardoned!”
Sabyse had little patience for him. “Only from death.”
As they travelled, she sorted through Gundar’s belongings, ignoring the guide’s pained expression and pleas, and did her best to disperse the funds to the group.
“I’m still missing some gems,” a man objected.
“And my credit cards,” said another female pilgrim.
“You get what you get,” Sabyse said bluntly. “I’ve done my best.”
The pilgrims descended onto the path below, and the great walls of the City opened before them. Sabyse gasped at how huge the spires towered above them.
“Where is a doctor?” the grandson asked.
Sabyse shook head. “I don’t know anything about this place. You’ll have to make your own way now.”
With a nod, the grandmother demanded of a passer-by the details of the best doctor to attend the wounded. The rich man took custody of Gundar, and dragged him in front of a group of men in dark military uniforms. And with that, the group withdrew and vanished into the city.
Before Amma disappeared after the others, Sabyse called out: “Did you… did you get the justice you wanted?”
Amma took a deep breath. “The Light illuminates. The Light burns. But I walked the path of the Saints.” Her hands shook as she spoke. “I think... I understand what the Book means now. That the Light is a choice, and we must always be choosing. And it's never easy. It burns as well as heals.” Head bowed low, she followed the others.
Sabyse remembered how drained she’d felt after her own contract had been fulfilled. Would Amma truly be content with sparing Gundar? Or would she always wish she’d made another choice? Sabyse’s shoulders relaxed; that matter was out of her hands now. She needed somewhere to rest.
But where was Thaena?
Sabyse walked through the city, wondering whether to find a hotel as she waited. Visiting an ancient Wonder wasn’t as enjoyable when one was alone.
What if Thaena never came back?
What would she, Sabyse, do? Aside from the sense of despair crushing her, her pragmatic side took over. She wasn’t in that terrible position. She had the gems from Dace Vasedes, some banknotes hidden about her. Perhaps she should have kept some cash from either Gundar or bandits. Still, part of her ached, and part of her wondered.
“Hello.”
Sabyse jumped.
Thaena was next to her, composed, her hair tied back.
“What happened?” Sabyse asked.
Thaena took a deep breath. “It was a simple contract. I went up to the caves where the bandits were, with the guide. I killed them all, but spared a boy. And then when Amma forgave Gundar, I couldn’t control myself. Ran off rather than transform in front of the others.” She shook her head. “I’m so out-of-practice. I should have tried to approach Amma alone. Things could have gone wrong.”
“But they didn’t,” Sabyse said.
Thaena raised a hand; thick, dark claws protruding from her fingers. With an effort, she concentrated, and they retreated. “Too many people and crowds. I should go back to the mountains for a while.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Stay here,” Thaena said. “Enjoy your festival and the City.”
“It’ll be here tomorrow,” Sabyse said. “And we can watch the lights from afar.”
They headed up to the cliff, and after retrieving her luggage from Sabyse, Thaena found a small part of the trail and sat on her sleeping roll. “This is what it will mean traveling with me. I have to hunt. Sometimes, I have trouble controlling myself. And there are always worse things than bandits.”
“I know,” Sabyse said. “I’ve seen them.”
They set up camp, watching the lights flicker below.
“There’s the real City of One Million Lights.” Sabyse pointed above as they watched the stars overhead. “They shone down upon the Saints, and upon us now. Reminds me that despite all the horrors, there are still nice things left in the world.”
Thaena leaned against her, and Sabyse relaxed.
“Let me show you something,” Thaena said softly. “Something more beautiful than stars and cities.”
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