The look on D’von’s face followed him up the steps of the old Catholic cathedral. Toby barely looked up as his pockets were emptied, although he felt relieved that he had left his tool belt on the Phoenix. He heard Ayla grunt crossly when her own clothes were rifled through. He had done the right thing, but he felt no better than Ayla: a traitor to his friends.
Rita had barely restrained herself from outing Toby in return, but she knew that he and Ayla were the Phoenix’s only chance to reach the inverters and she left in furious silence.
Miserable, Toby hardly looked at the stunning carvings that arched above him to cast twisted shadows on the sun-bleached steps.
“You should have let me do it,” Ayla hissed.
“I can do my own dirty work.” But Toby’s shoulders remained stooped until he entered the cathedral and raised his head.
Then everything else was forgotten.
Although Father Dahon and Mother Hesper were already walking towards the nave, the group of teenagers had stalled.
“Praise Soleil … it’s incredible.” Adele grabbed Adrien’s hand, all arrogance stunned out of her.
“It’s all right, ah suppose,” Moira said, absently, but her gaze was fixed on the domed ceiling that rose above them, where a tiny gecko climbed along a carved windowsill.
“Wait a minute.” Ayla frowned. “There wasn’t a dome on the outside, just that big bronze circle.”
Mother Hesper turned. “Very observant. No, there is no dome – it is trickery of the eye. We allowed the design to remain, because it is –” the angles of her face softened momentarily – “quite beautiful.”
She turned again, expecting the teens to follow her, but the group remained crowding the aisles. Beams of light speared downwards from cross-shaped windows set high in the walls and dust motes played in the glow. Further back a golden mosaic showed two figures. Toby shuddered when he realized that one held a severed head.
There were gaps where curtains had been torn from little chapels to each side of him, and in each there hung an ornate chandelier, dust clinging to each glittering crystal.
Everything was gold: gold edging on every pillar, golden flowers across the vaulted ceiling, a filigreed suit of arms below the fake dome.
The floor was made of tombstone slabs from multicoloured marble. Emblazoned armorial shields, prancing animals and twisting garlands commemorated the long-distant dead. With each hesitant step, Toby thought of the souls beneath him, whose house of worship had been so altered.
“This way,” Mother Hesper said.
As the candidates stood gaping at the opulence surrounding them, a bell rang, then another and another, until five had been struck.
“That was a major chord in G natural,” Summer whispered with her eyes closed. “Glorious.”
“Yes.” Arthur’s deep voice resonated with the bass of the bell and Toby realized that, despite the wonders around them, Arthur had barely taken his eyes from Summer. Arthur cleared his throat and looked at Toby. “Summer’s a musician. She plays the flute. We’re going to get it sent on, just as soon as we’re crowned.”
“You mean when we’re crowned, doncha?” Moira sneered. “If there’re competitions to be done, you don’t stand a chance against me an’ Brody.”
“Ha.” Adele straightened. “Adrien and I will be crowned.”
“Not if we can help it,” Ayla hissed.
Before Toby could suggest that she focus on making allies rather than enemies, the hair on his neck stood on end. He turned.
From doors that had been hidden in the depths of the chapel, two lines of men and woman appeared. All wore floor length robes, some grey and some brown, and their eyes, milky with swimming cataracts, stared at nothing. Walking as though they could see every step, their bodies swung in time to invisible music and their hands dangled at their sides, fingers twitching.
Slowly they lined up along the aisles. There were no pews – they had long been burned – but cushions permitted them to kneel in surreally straight lines.
Toby rubbed his hands together, suddenly chilled. At the end of the right-hand line stood a familiar figure. Morris was there, thin as an oar, wearing a black robe, his head hanging, blind as the day he’d left the Phoenix.
“Praise the Sun.”
“Hail Soleil.”
The teens who now clustered around Toby were whispering to themselves, using the familiar mantras for comfort. Automatically Toby reached for Polly, but Ayla caught his fingers. “They’re creepy,” she whispered in his ear. “Not dangerous.”
“I know.” Toby looked around again. The robed sunblind appeared to be waiting for something.
“Midday prayers,” Mother Hesper said, “are a little late today due to the opening of the festival. As you can see our holiest sunblind brothers and sisters pray in the cathedral proper. Those in black went blind before they knew of us, through devotion to the new Sun. Those wearing grey robes blinded themselves as an act of worship since joining the Order. They are to be especially revered – some of them are previous Suns and Moons.”
Toby gaped. This was the future that awaited the winner. Mother Hesper continued.
“Whenever you are not taking part in a challenge, you will pray at dawn, dusk and midday precisely. The bells will be your call to midday prayer. Dawn and dusk you will be expected to recognize yourself.”
“Where do we pray?” Lenka called.
The mother nodded. “For today, you will have the privilege of joining your sunblind brothers and sisters in prayers led by Father Dahon. On all other days you will pray in the rear courtyard, under the light of the Sun and the eyes of the attendants. The most devout of our brothers and sisters are also permitted to pray within the Reliquary, but at this time, you are not. Please kneel before the altar.”
Toby found himself leading the suddenly nervous teens between the lines of blind brothers and sisters. He stopped by a row of empty cushions, lit by the sun that spilled through the open cathedral door. Lenka and Matus were the first to push past and drop to their knees.
Mother Hesper moved to the side of the altar and knelt, leaving Father Dahon standing before them, haloed in a shaft of sunlight.
“Praise the Sun.” He raised his arms.
“Praise the Sun!” The reply echoed through the cathedral, multiplying the devotion until it filled the hall. Each made a sun sign against his or her chest. Toby and Ayla quickly copied them.
“On this day, as on every day, we praise the Sun, bringer of life. We give thanks for the gifts of warmth and light. We think of the years of darkness and give thanks for the lessons we have learned.” Father Dahon bowed his head. “Pray with me.”
Toby realized that every teen in the line was speaking along with the priest. Not only that but he could hear the words echoing from the square outside as the Gozitans, too, joined in. The sound was a tide rising and falling with the cadence of words. His heart raced: surely he and Ayla would be caught out by their quiet.
But then he realized that what Father Dahon was saying was an approximation of the Apostles Creed. He had heard the Spaniards on board the Phoenix repeating it since he was small. By the second line he was able to join in. Beside him he heard Ayla doing the same, keeping her chin low and quietly fudging a few words.
“We believe in one Sun, The Father, the Almighty, Heater of heaven and earth, Revealer of all that is seen and unseen.
We believe in one true Sun, The only Sun of earth, Eternally begotten of the stars.
Heat from heat, light from light, True Sun from true Sun, Begotten, not made, One in being with the universe.
Through Him all things are made, For humanity and our salvation, He moves through the heavens.
We believe in the Sun, The Lord, the giver of Life, Who proceeds from the East to the West.
With the Moon in the heavens, He is worshipped and glorified.
He has spoken through his absence.
We believe in one holy Order, We acknowledge one way to the forgiveness of our sins, We look for the Sunblind to lead us to new life in the world to come.
Amen.”
Toby echoed the final word and relaxed his hand.
Rustling behind him caught his attention and he realized that the blind brothers and sisters were rising and filing out once more.
Ayla pulled at his sleeve. “Look at the stone,” she whispered and Toby followed her eyes. The altar was a giant slab of granite, carved with deep-cut straight lines, dark in their depths.
“They look like…”
“Drainage,” Ayla murmured. “Why would the altar need drainage?”
Toby glanced around them; the other teens remained kneeling, heads bowed.
Father Dahon retreated from the altar and Mother Hesper took his place.
“Stand,” she said. The teens rose unsteadily to their feet.
Behind them the vast cathedral door began to swing closed on hinges that squealed as they moved.
“This is your final chance to leave.” Mother Hesper pointed to the narrowing portal. “Once the door is shut you will be locked inside the sanctuary. You will be able to go into the rear courtyard and take part in trials, but you will not see the front square until the very end. You will be committed to us.” She cast a glance at the altar so brief that Toby barely caught it. “Those of you who do not receive the honour of being crowned at the festival will nevertheless remain in the sanctuary as attendants to the Mysteries. This is its own reward.”
The door was almost closed now; the gap in it only as wide as the passageways of the Phoenix.
Toby looked at the teens around him. Zahir was watching the sunlight disappear as though he might never see it again; his companion, Uzuri, made the sign of the Sun, while Moira and Brody shuddered as their view of the square and the Gozitan people vanished. Only Lenka and Matus seemed genuinely unmoved, facing the altar.
Now the gap was as thin as the vents Toby had once crawled through on the ship. “As if they could stop us leaving if we wanted to,” Ayla snorted and, like Lenka, she turned deliberately away from her last view of the sunlit courtyard.
Although Toby wanted to mirror her, he was compelled to watch as the gap narrowed to a slim line.
There was a hollow slam as the doors came together and then a loud clicking.
“Automatic locks,” said Cezar, the boy from Budapest. “Magnetic?” He frowned, and looked up at his companion as she poked him in the ribs with one of her long nails. “Sorry, Bianca.”
Mother Hesper offered a more genuine, if thinner, smile. “As none of you have chosen to leave, let me tell you about your new home.” She pointed to the door the blind priests had used. “The sunblind have quarters through there. At present we have eighty-nine sunblind devotees who worship with us. They have dormitories, prayer rooms, bathing rooms and a dining hall – these all remain private. Only they and their silent attendants are permitted inside. They are the holiest of the holy.”
Toby thought of Morris, the Englishman who had been one of his father’s original crew. His laugh had been loud and he knew more dirty jokes than Peel and Crocker. Now he was the holiest of the holy?
“The silent attendants are those who are privy to the deepest secrets of the sanctuary. They are the most trusted.” Mother Hesper smiled at this. “Only candidates who enter the cathedral as Sun and Moon candidates, but fail the trials, may become silent attendants. If you meet a silent attendant, please show the utmost respect, but remember they will not speak to you, no matter what you say.” She pointed to a recess beside them, where two armed attendants glowered in the shadows. “Behind that wall is the Reliquary, which used to be the crypt of the worshippers of the crucified god.” She smirked. “During the first trial you will be taken on a tour, at which time you will be permitted to worship before the relics and will learn which items are important to us in the unlikely event you should encounter them during the pilgrimage.” She gestured to the opposite side, where a small archway led to a plain staircase that curved downwards. “Through there are the attendants’ quarters. At the moment we have two hundred brothers and sisters in total. Anyone can ask to join our Order as an attendant, but only the most devout are accepted. Others join the community of worshippers on the island, or return home. The attendants are split into a hierarchy. The least important do the manual work in the sanctuary: cooking, cleaning, laundry, gardening and so on. These you know as brothers and sisters. Then we have those who are guards, enforcers of the faith.” She indicated the attendants standing outside the Reliquary. “Among their duties is to keep the islanders in line. If it is necessary for you to speak to a warrior, you will refer to him as Uncle.”
“What of the female guards?” Ayla stood defiantly straight, as Toby glared at her.
Mother Hesper smiled. “There are none. Among the qualifications for guardianship are a strength and power to which women are unsuited.”
Toby grabbed Ayla’s arm, but she smiled coldly. “Of course.”
“Finally there are those who have completed their attendancy and have become mothers and fathers. Like myself. Most mothers and fathers work as missionaries or ministers to the faithful. At the moment there are only five of us on the island: myself, Father Dahon and three others, who you are unlikely to meet.”
“And through there?” There were two more doorways leading to the back of the cathedral. Adele and Adrien pointed together to the left one.
“This goes to the quarters of the mothers and fathers.”
“And the other?” Adele demanded.
Mother Hesper smiled. “That leads to your own quarters, the bathing area, the dining room and rear courtyard. When you are not being tested for the festival, you may move about this area quite freely and use the facilities as you see fit. As long as you remember your prayer times and, of course, that the Sun is always watching.” She made another sun sign and bowed her head. “I will show you this area, and then your meal will be served.”
She turned and Toby caught Ayla’s wrist to draw her attention. “It’s enormous.”
“I know,” she hissed. “But we know where they’ll be.” She tilted her head at the crypt where the two uncles had subtly shifted their stance, closing their hands around their long clubs and emphasizing the muscles in their necks.
Toby’s gaze skittered after Mother Hesper, who was holding open the door, her eyes glittering in the shadows.
“Come,” she said.
Once the teens had gathered, Mother Hesper directed them along a short corridor and from there, into a large mess hall. Despite the pressure of Father Dahon’s presence like invisible fingers on his spine, Toby’s shoulders relaxed at the sight of long corrugated iron tabletops and lopsided stools made from old tyres. His nostrils flared at the aroma of bread and stew.
Adele inhaled. “See, Adrien, I told you we would be looked after.”
“You’re assuming it’s for us. Fools.” Ayla marched after Mother Hesper, her long braids swinging, beads clacking together, as though the fragrance that had wound a spell around every other supplicant had hit a vacuum when it reached her. There seemed no sign that she had any interest in the stew she smelled. Then Toby saw her hands close into fists. Ayla craved all right, but had long ago learned not to show it.
He caught up to her. “Must you be so antagonistic?”
“Must you be so friendly?” She shot back. “This is a competition.”
“I will show you to your cells and then you can come back here for your meal,” Mother Hesper said. “This way.”
“Praise Soleil … Hail the Sun … Always bright.”
As the others demonstrated their gratitude, Toby gripped Ayla’s arm. “Cells?” he said.
There were dozens of cells lined up. The gloom was only lightened by holes in the ceiling stopped up by transparent plastic bottles that let the sunlight through.
Each cell had a dirt floor, grey brick walls and space for a small camp bed and a single tyre stool.
“I don’t understand.” Summer looked around, her blond hair shining in the kaleidoscope of light cast by the water bottle above her head. “It’s so dark. I thought … the sun?”
“How can you appreciate the light of the sun if you do not begin your journey in darkness?” Mother Hesper pointed to a cell. “We all have lives of austerity in Solar Order, my own cell is not much bigger.”
“Ave Soleil,” Adele whispered, stepping closer to her twin.
“Choose your places.” Father Dahon had followed them down the stairs and now he blocked what little light glimmered from above.
“Here then.” Swiftly Ayla stepped into the cell nearest the stairs. Toby ducked into the doorway next to hers, marking it as his own.
Once Toby and Ayla had taken their places, there was a rush to choose: Arthur ended up next to Toby, Summer after, then Moira and Brody, Bianca and Cezar. Opposite, Zahir and Uzuri, Adele and Adrien, Lenka and Matus and the two final pairs who Toby had not yet spoken to: the American couple and the Italians, Celeste and Aldo, whose fingers were still twined.
As he was memorizing who was in which spot, Ayla hissed at him under her breath and gestured to her door.
Toby frowned and looked. The doors were made from toughened plastic, not transparent, but not quite opaque, either. Each had a cluster of small holes cut into the front and sported a thick bolt.
Once they were closed, there would be no getting out of them. Toby and Ayla would have to steal their inverters in the light of day.
“Ashes,” he whispered.
When the couples tried to sit next to one another in the mess hall Mother Hesper held up her hand. “For meals and, of course, bathing, boys and girls will be separated.” She pointed to a separate long table. “Boys over there.” Then she sat at the head of the girls’ table.
Toby saw that Father Dahon waited in front of the boys’ and he forced his disappointment down; this was not the place to talk to Ayla about their mission anyway. Instead he nodded and forced out a respectful, “Praise the Sun,” as he moved into the group of boys and walked away.
Celeste and Aldo looked regretfully at one another and their fingers touched for as long as they could before they were separated. Ayla rolled her eyes and sat, with a flick of her braids, between Bianca, the girl from Budapest with the claws for fingernails and Leila, the American with the hair of dandelion fluff. None of them spoke.
Toby had paid little attention to who had sat next to him. Now he checked. On his right was the albino, Zahir, and to his left Cezar, the boy with the limp. Arthur sat two places down on his left and Brody on his right. Toby nodded to them and turned his own eyes to the kitchen, joining the others who were all tense with anticipation.
As the door opened, Father Dahon raised his hands to the sky, fingers spread. “For what we are about to receive, we are truly thankful to the Sun. Praise the Orb.”
“Praise the Orb.” Each of his companions raised their hands and eyes.
“Praise the Orb,” Toby muttered, spreading his fingers.
Father Dahon turned his head, bird-quick, catching the slight delay in Toby’s prayer, as if it was a note out of tune in an orchestra.
Toby ducked, even though there was no way for the father to see him. Then he shook his head and straightened. “What’s the worst that can happen?” He gripped the fork that had been waiting for him on the corrugated table.
“Huh?” Cezar looked at him.
“I just…” Toby swallowed. “Nothing, I just wondered, what’s the worst that can happen? What happens if we lose?”
Cezar blinked. “We’ll be trained as silent attendants. Mother Hesper said so.” He was turning his fork as though it contained a mystery of its own. Toby could almost see Cezar’s brain ticking behind his eyes and he recognized a fellow inventor, one who wanted to know how things worked, to see how things fitted together.
Thoughtfully, Toby lifted his own fork. If he could twist off a tine he might have something that he could use on the hinges or bolt of his door. Something in him rebelled utterly against allowing himself to be locked up with no tools on his side of the cell.
“Food’s coming,” Zahir said.
Toby looked up as attendants walked towards them, then leaned back as a bowl and bread roll were placed in front of him. The smell of stew filled Toby’s senses and his eyes glazed over: spicy warmth, with a hint of onions on the back of his throat, garlic and the meaty flavour of the herbs. Peel was good, but he was a ship’s cook and there was only so much you could do with seagull and herring.
“You think we’ll eat like this every day?” Cezar grinned.
Beside him Zahir was leaning close to his own bowl, simply inhaling. Toby glanced across at Ayla. She remained unmoved, only the slightest flare of her nostrils indicating that she knew the food was in front of her. Did she think it was poisoned? Then he realized that she was challenging herself. He could tell Ayla planned to be the last to eat.
Without taking his eyes from her, Toby closed his fingers around the bread that lay on the tabletop. He smiled as he felt the warm dough give beneath the pressure. Once he had lifted his bread, Ayla gave a satisfied nod and picked up her own.
Zahir was licking his bowl clean. Toby watched him with quiet fascination. He himself had considered doing so, but somehow it seemed as though it was giving away too much of himself; exposing a vulnerability. Ayla too had left smears in her own bowl, like a badge of honour.
Even Adele, Toby saw, was delicately licking her fingers, her eyes closed with pleasure.
Finally Zahir put his bowl down with a deep sigh and saw all the teens rubbing their stomachs, drowsily.
“Do you think we’ll be given time to sleep?” Adrien stretched. “It’s been a long day.”
“That would be nice.” Zahir nodded. “The journey from Africa was difficult.”
“You arrived today? I didn’t see another ship.” Toby frowned, wondering if there was a second jetty somewhere, perhaps on the other side of the island.
“This morning. The crew dropped us off and left straight away. The captain was superstitious. Didn’t want me on board any longer than necessary.” Zahir’s voice remained soft, but his eyes hardened.
“Why not?” Toby frowned.
He gestured to his face. “Red eyes, white hair – unnatural, is it not?”
Toby frowned. “Rare, but not unnatural, I don’t think.”
Zahir smiled slightly. “Well, our elders agreed with the Solar Order, that Uzuri and I could have only one destiny. Born in the same hour, at opposite ends of the village and looking like this –” he gestured towards his partner – “the elders will share the money once we are crowned.”
“You do make a perfect pair,” Toby agreed, thinking that he already had another potential ally in the group.
“This is about more than what we look like,” Cezar interjected.
“How do you know?” Toby looked at him.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” This time Arthur leaned in. “If it was a beauty contest they would have just picked out a couple in the courtyard. Instead we were brought in here. Mother Hesper mentioned trials. There’ll be other challenges to face.”
“I wonder what.” Toby rubbed the left tine of his fork between his fingers, warming the junction where the prong met the handle. Then he wiggled it until he felt it twist. When it broke free with a snap, he placed the fork back on the table, slid the tine between two of his fingers and closed his hand around it.
He looked up as a mug was placed in front of him.
Celeste’s voice rang across her table. “Wine?”
Toby tilted his cup and sniffed. He’d had alcohol before – Crocker’s rotgut hooch was a favourite of the other pirates on the ship. He didn’t like it.
As Mother Hesper raised her cup, her robe slid back to reveal arms as thin as her face. “To the beginning of our journey together,” she said. “Praise the Sun.”
Around him the other boys were raising their drinks.
Toby pushed his away, scraping the table as he did so.
“Drink, boy,” Father Dahon’s voice snapped out and Toby caught his breath. Those milky eyes were pinned on him. With a shudder he lifted his mug and took a sip. The wine was sour, too warm and almost vinegar in flavour.
“Drain your mugs.” Father Dahon drew out the last word until he hissed like a broken delivery line in the boiler room.
“What if we don’t like it?” It was Summer. She had taken some of hers and was now regarding it with a curl of her coral lips.
“Knock it back.” Mother Hesper wiped a smear of wine from her mouth.
Toby looked at Ayla. She raised her mug. How much was she used to drinking?
Toby took another sip and Ayla smirked. Without taking her eyes from his, she threw back her head and drained her mug in one go. Then she slammed it down on the table. As though her actions presented a challenge, Uzuri did the same thing, slamming her mug on to the table when she had finished.
“Looks like she’s started the competition already.” Arthur copied and soon all of the others had slammed their drinks. Only Toby and Summer continued to sip. Refusing to be rushed, Toby forced the liquor past numb lips and a tingling tongue.
Summer finished before him. When the girl had put down her mug with a grimace, Mother Hesper looked at Toby. “We’re waiting.”
Toby looked in his mug, he had a third left. Could he leave it?
Father Dahon spoke once more, as if Toby had asked the question aloud. “Drain it.”
Toby made himself look into the father’s empty eyes as he choked down the last of the gritty drink, then he tossed his mug on to the corrugated tabletop with a hollow clang. The mug rolled on its side, spilling a few final drops.
“Good.” Mother Hesper nodded. “You are all competitors for the place of Sun and Moon, and so will have to undergo certain challenges, or trials.”
The teens grew serious and still; the atmosphere chilled.
“The couples who lose each challenge will be removed from the group and will begin their roles as silent attendants. This will happen until there is only one couple left: the Sun and Moon.”
Toby caught Ayla’s eye. Maybe they should throw the competition. Perhaps it would be easier to search for the relics if they were not spending time doing these mysterious challenges. Attendants might have more freedom. As if she could sense his thoughts, Ayla shook her head. Determination flashed in her green eyes. She wanted to win.
“Now to the first challenge.” Mother Hesper smiled. “The Sun rises and falls each day and night, but one who truly loves the Orb will sit up, waiting; desiring nothing but its return. And so the first challenge is to remain awake until midday tomorrow. The first couple to fall asleep before the next ringing of the bells will be disqualified from the competition. If no couple sleeps, then the first individual to have slept will have doomed his or her pair to failure.”
“Wait.” Summer’s head snapped up. “But … you gave us alcohol.”
“Yes.” It was Father Dahon’s turn to smile. “Yes, we did.”