Elyasha
Yasha recognized the use of Khyth Breaking when she saw it, and Thornton had most certainly done just that upon learning of Olson’s death. What alarmed her was not that he had done it, but the ease with which he did—and with no training whatsoever. Until just a little while ago, he hadn’t even known of his Khyth heritage, yet here he was, bending iron and moving stone as if he’d been doing it for years.
Yasha knew she had to get Thornton away from Dailus before he did any further damage—either of them—and was quick to get the Highglader out of there. She scowled at the thought of the Athrani half-eye imprisoned below them as she dragged Thornton, with the help of Kethras, back toward Sh’thanna’s throne room, where the Hammer stood just where they had left it. Coming around the corner, Yasha heard Alysana talking with the High Keeper before they came into view. When they did, the G’henni was the first to see them. She stopped mid-sentence and directed the Keeper’s attention to their approach. Looks of concern washed over the two women’s faces when they saw Thornton’s state, the High Keeper being the first to speak.
“What happened?” she demanded as she rose from her throne. “Was this Dailus’s doing?”
Yasha contorted her face as she searched for an answer. “Yes,” she said. “And no.” The answer only served to transform the looks of concern into looks of confusion from the women before her.
Kethras stepped forward to speak.
“Thornton has just learned of his father’s death,” said the Kienari as he helped stabilize Thornton, “and did not take it well.”
The High Keeper frowned. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Perhaps some rest will do him good.” She motioned for one of her guards to come over. “Help Master Woods to one of the guest rooms.”
The guard approached, and bowed slightly, bringing his fist to his shoulder. “I shall see to it, High Keeper,” he said.
“Oh,” Yasha called out, pointing to Thornton’s hammer. “Bring that with you. If he wakes up and it’s missing, you might not like what comes next.”
The guard looked worried as he retrieved the hammer. He picked it up by the worn white-ash handle, admired it briefly, and went back to assisting a woozy Thornton toward the other side of the throne room.
As she watched the two of them leave, Yasha wondered just what was happening inside Thornton. She knew that the kind of power he had just displayed would leave any Khyth apprentice reeling, but she also knew it shouldn’t have been possible for him to tap into it at all, not on the scale that he had.
She determined that, after he got some rest, she would try to help him understand who he was and what he was now capable of, mostly so nothing like that ever happened again.
He probably wants nothing to do with it, she thought. But she would at least bring it up. At the very least he could learn to control it.
“Keeper,” Kethras said as the two men disappeared from sight, “there is a matter which I have come before you to discuss, and another matter that Dailus mentioned; I believe them to be one and the same.” He was bent at the waist with one long arm extended before him in genuflection.
He looks so regal, Yasha thought. Like he was born for this.
His elegant manner must have taken the Keeper by surprise, as she shifted in her seat and blinked her blue-on-blue eyes, taking a moment to think before answering.
“Certainly,” Sh’thanna replied. “What is it?”
“We would seek the help of the Three.”
A frown crept onto the lips of the High Keeper. She stood abruptly and clapped her hands. “Guards, leave us,” she announced to the room.
Her words resounded off the blue-hued walls as her guards and advisors exited quietly, leaving Kethras, Yasha, and Alysana alone with the High Keeper. Taking her staff in hand, she leaned on it slightly as she descended the wide stone steps to the throne room floor. It sang out each time it struck with a clack, like tiny lightning strikes, the only sound in the big, empty chamber.
She looked her guests in the eye, pausing on each as though trying to bore into their souls. After a time, and seemingly satisfied with whatever it was that she found, she spoke.
“The Three are dangerous, and the Holder of the Dead, even more so,” the High Keeper said in a low whisper. “Tell me why you would seek them out.”
Kethras exchanged a glance with Yasha. “We fear that the Shaper is in danger,” he answered. “And that the power of the Breaker may be too great.”
“Nonsense,” the High Keeper said.
“While her sacrifice was noble,” Kethras went on, undeterred, “and well intentioned, there are those of us who fear that it may have been . . . ill-conceived.” He paused for a moment, hesitating. “The Binder of Worlds is among those who share this fear.”
Yasha’s eyes opened wide at this revelation. If the Binder is worried, maybe there really is a reason to be afraid.
Kethras went on. “The Binder believes that, given enough time, the Breaker could overpower and corrupt the Shaper, making her sacrifice—and everything we fought for—for naught.”
“And you truly believe that the Three are the answer?”
Kethras nodded grimly.
The High Keeper shook her head slowly. “Then the cure may be worse than the disease.”
Yasha wanted to ask what the High Keeper meant by this, but she held her tongue; the old Athrani did not look like she was done talking. She turned her back to them and looked above the throne, where an old but well-preserved tapestry hung. There were many elements to it, most of which Yasha could not make sense of, but two dark figures at the top stood out very clearly against a larger white one that looked to be a woman.
Pointing to one figure, she said, “Ahmaan Ka, as he was called then, was an ancient and jealous god who served the Shaper long, long ago, along with his brother, Lash’kun Yho,” she said, sweeping her hand across to indicate the second figure. “But, as those with power so often do, Ahmaan Ka found himself asking why he should serve another when he was so capable of seizing power for himself.” She steadied herself on her staff and lowered her eyes and her voice. “So he rebelled.”
“Rebelled?” Yasha whispered. “How?”
“He began to take the souls of the dead for himself, using them to fuel his power, while keeping his actions hidden from the Shaper. His mistake was not in taking power,” she said as she raised a finger, “but in thinking that the Shaper would not notice.” Sh’thanna turned her head so that the edges of a troubled smile could be seen on her face. “But she did notice. And she punished him severely for it.” She faced the three of them once again, her expression solemn. “The Shaper of Ages cast him into Khel-hârad, into the Land of the Dead, where his spirit remains to this day, beholden to the will of the Shaper.”
Alysana nodded beside Yasha. “They say that the Holder’s betrayal was so great that even his own brother, the Traveler, was forced from the Otherworld as punishment for the Holder’s sins.” The High Keeper turned to her, a look of surprise on her face. “Even in G’hen, these stories reach our ears,” Alysana added.
“Then how might the Three help us get to the Shaper in the Otherworld?” Yasha asked.
The High Keeper paused as if searching for words and took a breath. “Imagine the Otherworld as having two doors, each with its own lock and key. The Holder of the Dead opens one lock, and the Shaper of Ages opens the second. Her key is held by your friend, of course,” she said, alluding to Thornton’s hammer. “And, just as the Blood of the Shaper must be used in conjunction with the Hammer of the Worldforge, so must the souls of the dead be used in conjunction with the Holder.”
“So,” Yasha started, “if we ask the Holder, he could get us into the Otherworld by using the dead?”
“Ask the Holder?” Sh’thanna scoffed, incredulous. “To help the Shaper?” The elder Athrani looked at her as if Yasha had suddenly grown wings.
Yasha was undeterred, though. “Yes,” she said, crossing her arms.
Sh’thanna shook her head, turning away. After a brief silence, though, she looked back with narrowed eyes. “I will start by saying that there are a number of problems that would arise.”
“Such as?” Yasha asked, a glimmer of hope in her eye.
“Well, for one,” Sh’thanna began, “the Shaper of Ages, knowing that She could not trust the Holder with the secret of Her mortality, sealed him away beneath Do’baradai, where he sleeps to this day.”
Yasha furrowed her brow as she tried to comprehend what she’d heard. “But I thought you said the Holder was in Khel-hârad, not asleep in Do’baradai.”
“Both are correct,” the High Keeper replied cryptically. Seeing the confusion that her answer gave, she elaborated. “The body of the Holder of the Dead lies in Do’baradai while his spirit inhabits the Land of the Dead, making him a captive in both places. Much like how the Shaper’s spirit and body were separated when She gave Her Gift to the Athrani, anchoring Her physical form in this world. Or, at least, such was the plan,” she added quietly.
“Then,” Yasha said slowly, “we wake him up.”
Sh’thanna winced at the words. “My dear,” she reproached, “it is not that simple. You do not just ‘wake up’ a god.”
“Why not?” Yasha asked. Behind her, she thought she heard Kethras laugh, but didn’t bother to look. “You said yourself that his body is in Do’baradai. We just need to go there and find it.”
Sh’thanna grimaced. “Because we don’t know how,” she said as she turned away.
The High Keeper’s eyes were raised again to the tapestry behind the throne. Its borders were the oranges and reds of fire, surrounding a vast expanse of brown, which Yasha thought looked like sand dunes. There were splashes of green and blue throughout, and two great black pillars near the middle. At the top were the three figures—the Shaper, the Holder, and the Traveler, Yasha guessed.
Yasha was so engrossed in the scene that she was startled by the words that came next from the Keeper.
“The only ones who know the secrets of Do’baradai,” she said quietly, “are the Three themselves and the Priests of the Holder, and to speak to them is to look death in the face.”
Yasha was silent for a time while she mulled over the words. She was no closer to finding an answer when Kethras spoke up.
“Then we will go to Do’baradai,” the Kienari said in his rough, low voice. “If waking the Three can give us hope, it is a chance we must take.”
The look on the face of Sh’thanna told them she did not approve. “You put yourselves in great danger if you choose to walk that path,” she said sternly. “There are some, even among my people, who would see them sleep forever and who will do anything to keep them at rest.” She raised a finger in warning, adding, “And that is to say nothing of the dangers that will awaken along with the Holder.”
Yasha felt something in the pit of her stomach, like a pebble being dropped down a well.
“We will be ready when the dangers come,” Kethras asserted.
She just hoped she would land on something soft when they hit the bottom.