Not just for herself, but for the house, she hoped Kareem would succeed. He was a good match for Lord Rochant, disciplined, intelligent and well educated. If Kareem failed then the honour would pass through his other living descendants: Mohit was next in line, then Dhruti, and then her Satyendra.
However, any vessel other than Kareem would be a disaster for the house. Mohit, for all his sweetness, was a bad match. He was hard working but dogged, lacking the brilliance that so characterized Lord Rochant’s actions. And while Dhruti and Satyendra were more promising, both were too young, which would mean more years of waiting.
Chandni prayed it would not come to that.
We need you now, my lord.
She rested her hand on Kareem’s door for a moment, a silent goodbye, then walked the short distance to her own chamber.
Satyendra seemed sleepy but not quite ready to settle. She carried him over to the Wall of Glory. A single slab of grey amid the brickwork, the Wall of Glory recorded those of importance. Names were engraved deep, then painted in gold. Lines of blue displayed family links and unions. Each of House Sapphire’s Deathless was inscribed there, and she had positioned Satyendra’s cot so that it would be the first thing he would see in the morning and the last thing at night. She pointed to the highest and boldest name, and tried to sound sincere when she said: ‘This is High Lord Yadavendra, greatest of all.’
Her finger paused in the air over a blank piece of stone. Once it had held the name of Nidra, Yadavendra’s sister, but since her exile those details had been removed, leaving the stone a paler shade than those around it. Somehow it made the absence more glaring, harder to forget. The sight of it always brought on a sadness in Chandni. Normally, if one of the Deathless lost their status, they would be replaced, just as Lord Rochant had replaced Samarku Un-Sapphire. But not this time.
Since the end of the Unbroken Age, seven Deathless Sapphire had stood watch over the land. In his grief, Yadavendra had made them six, destroying not only his sister but the seat of her immortality as well. There was a hole in House Sapphire and no good would come of it.
Not wanting Satyendra to see her unhappy before bed, she pointed at the name below the empty space. ‘Look here,’ she pointed at some golden letters, ‘the name of the one leading the hunt in Sagan this night. Yadavendra’s nephew, Lord Vasin, who is always happiest in the sky.’
And may the sky restore him. May this night restore all of us.
‘You see,’ she continued, ‘all of the Sapphire Deathless are related by blood, save one.’ She held Satyendra up so that he could paw at the one name separate from the others in their nest of blue lines. ‘Your grandfather, Lord Rochant, started life as a road-born but he was so brave and so clever that High Lord Yadavendra brought him to his castle to serve as a hunter, and later, an adviser. When Rochant gave his life to save the house against Samarku Un-Sapphire, High Lord Sapphire made him into a Deathless. Your grandfather is wise and perfect, the very essence of what it means to be a Sapphire.’
She heard a voice sing for permission to enter and granted it, recognizing Captain Dil’s voice immediately.
The captain wore his best uniform, and had put a little wax in his beard to make it look fuller. Nerves made him seem younger than usual. It is his first time protecting a rebirth too, I must remember that.
‘Honoured Mother, I hear there’s a problem?’
‘I saw someone in the castle, a stranger wearing a guard’s uniform. I didn’t like the way he was creeping about.’
Dil nodded to himself. ‘I should have guessed it would be something like that. There’s nothing to worry about, you just saw some of the extra protection I’ve brought in for tonight. I’m sorry, Honoured Mother, I should have informed you.’
‘I see.’
‘Is that all?’
She didn’t like his tone, it made her feel as if she was being unreasonable rather than thorough. ‘No, that is not all. I spoke to Ji earlier tonight on the ramparts. When I finished my walk, I saw that he was no longer at his post. Nobody was.’
‘All of the guards are checking in with me at regular intervals. As a matter of fact, I’ve just spoken to Ji.’
‘He left his post without replacement? That makes no sense. Why was a section of the castle unguarded on this night of all nights?’
Dil bristled. ‘No attack is going to come over the wall, Honoured Mother. We live in the sky. That is why Ji is on duty there, it’s the safest posting I could find for him. The bridge is secure, the Rebirthing Chamber is secure. They are the places that matter and they are protected at all times by several of our best. I have it all in hand.’
‘My apologies, captain, I’m sure you do.’
He took a step towards the corridor. ‘Can I ask you to keep to your room from now on, it makes it easier if I know where everyone is.’
She looked down at Satyendra who had gone very still in her arms. ‘I don’t think that will be a problem. Is all well with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Forgive me, captain, but you don’t seem yourself.’
Dil paused to fuss with his uniform. ‘The Bringers have arrived. They make me nervous.’
Few people got to meet the Bringers of Endless Order. They were the ones who carried out the rebirth ceremony, and dealt in matters of the soul. Nobody even knew what they looked like under their masks and heavy robes. ‘Has it started?’
‘Not yet. Soon though. I should be going.’
He left quickly, leaving Chandni with a sense of foreboding. He’s worried. Good. We should be worried, it will keep us focused.
As if giving the lie to that, Satyendra fell asleep. She placed him in his cot with a faint smile and settled down, knowing she would not be able to relax until the ceremony was over.
Few were allowed to bear witness to a rebirthing ceremony, the honour reserved for Crystal High Lords and the Bringers of Endless Order.
Pari Tanzanite was neither.
The tunnel she’d used to breach the inner castle was secret, winding, hidden by glittering architecture and sumptuous art carved in ancient crystal, smoothed by the touch of admiring hands. Behind hard faces of blue gemstone it went, through spaces between the castle’s floors, bending around stairwells and pillars, allowing one to spy on the great halls of House Sapphire, or gain entry to a select number of bedchambers.
It was said that in the ancient days, when the gods still walked the earth, unbroken, that there were those who could look into the face of another and know their secrets. Pari had spent many of her lifetimes trying to rediscover that art with only partial success. She could not read thoughts or summon specific knowledge from the minds of her enemies. Nor could she overwrite their thoughts with her own, such powers remained the province of the shattered gods and the things that lurked in the Wild below.
However, her efforts had borne some fruit. Sometimes, Pari would know that a lie had been spoken, or have a sudden insight into where a person was going, or who they might harbour secret affections for. As if all of her observations were gathered in a wordless part of her mind and joined together, the resulting sequences given back to her as feelings or hunches.
These insights were only sometimes useful and always impossible to prove, but she had learned to trust them, to grasp and follow them before they slipped away. It had led to her having a reputation of being flighty and chaotic when the truth was very much the opposite.
So when an anonymous message had arrived four days ago, slipped under her dinner plate, she had known at once that she was reading truth:
Things are not well in the home of your lover. Loyal friends are posted elsewhere. Strangers walk the halls, sharpening knives while they wait for his return.