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Chapter Seventy-Four: A Reckoning
Then the air was torn apart by a woman’s scream. It was filled with such rage that every one of them who heard it fell to their knees with their hands over their ears, desperate for it to stop.
Zlo alone stood, his head bowed as the Princess appeared beside him. She was beautiful and terrifying in her anger. She appeared to float off the floor, her white robes billowing around her, her long, burnished hair streaming as though she were the wind itself. Behind her stood Nicos, his expression glazed. His hands hung at his sides. He appeared to see and hear nothing.
“Fool,” said the Princess to Zlo, “I did everything to help you. I sent him away,” she tilted her head toward the Mogul, “I distracted the brothers and the stupid girl-child Magoses with their little quest. I sowed division and strife. I ensured the Laws were broken. All you had to do was make sure they,” here she swept her arm around to indicate Astrapi, the companions, Thassa, Miasma and Ilyria, “were all h
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They all heard it making its way. The ground rumbled with its passage as the Sister Moon shone down with relentless brightness, Brother Moon no longer able to temper her cold light. And Ilyria saw her own fear reflected in the faces of her friends. Even the sirens cowered, and Madame Skia looked uncertain which was maybe the most terrifying thing of all. What could be worse than Zlo? Ilyria knew. It was the thing that Zlo feared. The thing that lived deep within his own dark tower. She looked at the Princess. The Princess knew too. Her face had turned so pale, it seemed to reflect that horrifying moonlight. Suddenly the Princess reached out one hand and the crowd of sirens parted around her as if she had sliced through them. She curled her fingers, and the Mogul was dragged through the mud toward her. He twisted and turned reaching out for Loulou. Loulou, her cheeks flushed, tried to follow but the Princess flung her away with a flick of the other hand. She lifted her summon
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Six: Freedom
The monster reached out a nightmarish tendril, twisted and hard and riddled with fungus. The tendril scratched Ilyria under the chin as an overly familiar uncle might and she gagged on the smell of rotten animal flesh. “You don’t look like him at all,” said The Shackled One, “Lucky for you. We hated him for what he did to us.” “Us? There is more than one of you?” “Us,” said The Shackled One, and dark spikes shot out from its body, impaling the Princess and Zlo. A spike missed the Mogul only because Loulou had pushed him out of the way. They stood open-mouthed with dread and fear as the Princess and Zlo twisted and writhed on the spikes, howling in agony, their blood dripping to the ground beneath them. Thassa ran to the frozen pair and pulled them away. Think, Ilyria, what does it want? came Madame Skia’s question. Ilyria tried not to hear the howls of the Princess and her son. She looked around for Madame Skia the darkness was so com
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Seven: One World
Ilyria woke to the smell of warm bread and blossoming plants, and another damp salty smell she could not recognize. She sighed and turned over. Her eyes flickered half-open as she felt Suluu’s warm body lying on his back next to her. Her hand lazily traced the contours of his smooth chest, delighting in the way his skin puckered beneath her fingers. He turned to look at her, his lips parted in a smile and his eyes hooded with his desire. “Hello,” he murmured, pulling her toward him, “You’re awake.” “I am,” she said, tracing her fingers over his lips. Then her stomach rumbled noisily, “and I am so, so, so, so hungry!” She sat up trying to recall when last she had eaten and suddenly a rush of images flooded over her. She sank her face into her hands. Astrapi, impaled. The Princess and Zlo’s blood dripping from the spines of The Shackled One. Madame Skia’s wounded body lying shrouded by the shimmering moon dust. The monster’s final moments. She looked up
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter One: The Shadow across the Moon
Ilyria leaned back against the cool stone wall as she looked through the open window of her chambers up at the night sky. The moon shimmered silver-gold in the warm air, so fragrant with the scent of magnolias and jasmine her mother had ordered delivered by the thousand. The moon didn’t care about the bustle that had begun in the early hours of that morning in her mother’s mansion and had only now quietened down. The moon was oblivious to the water fountains pumped with cool water, to the conjured lights that floated like fireflies above the gardens, to the rows and rows of banquet tables, heavy with rare Deluvian silver. Tomorrow she would be married. The moon would not care about that either. She had not imagined this should be her fate. She had only that year completed her studies and she dreamed still of joining her mother’s traders in journeying across the desert, buying dripping moonfruit from Isfap or intricately wrought jewels from Itoulp or visiting the miraculous w
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Inside, trembling and holding back her tears, she hesitated. She had to tell her mother what had happened. Her mother would surely be horrified. She would not have known this about her business partner and once she did, she would be certain to expel him. Or report him to the Mogul. This is what Ilyria told herself. But another voice from farther inside her was saying she was in danger from everyone within the walls of this mansion. Even her mother. And this was why she hesitated. No, she thought, it cannot be so. This is my childhood home. There were happy times here. Weren’t there? She knocked at her mother’s door. Though it was late, light from her mother’s chambers edged from beneath the door. She knew her mother used the night hours for her planning, preferring to rest during the day when she claimed only fools were afoot. There was no answer, so Ilyria knocked again, a little louder this time, “Mother,” she whispered, “Mother, please. I must talk
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Three: Wine and Bread
Ilyria moved quickly down the alleyway, trying to sidestep the worst of the dirt, trying not to think about what type of muck might have passed through it. Her feet, soft from years of walking on marble floors or gently manicured lawns, were soon bleeding from the sharp cobblestones of the street. She felt foolish when one alleyway led into another and then another until she realized that these alleyways were the streets of the city of Idixat. How had she paid so little attention riding through the city on her horse or in a carriage? She also felt stupid carrying the bag of wine and bread. The bread was at least a day old and probably too hard for her to even hazard a bite without breaking a tooth. As for the bottle of wine … she shook her head. She brought wine but no shoes. If she was Haris’ widow’s only hope for justice, then the widow would not have much comfort. Haris’ widow! She tried to recall the name of the pretty, inane woman Haris had married. In t
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Ilyria looked up at the fragrant shape and saw a set of double chins that shook with laughter. She stepped back, dusting down her trousers, trying to get her bearings. When no one emerged from the street behind her, she allowed herself a sigh of relief. The large woman with the chins finally managed to stop laughing. She smiled at Ilyria and the thick makeup caked around her eyes and mouth cracked and flaked. She wiped her watering eyes. “Sweet Oren’s gods, child,” she said, “You fight with the wiles of a desert cat.” Ilyria was silent, uncertain how to answer this strange woman. The woman went on, “But you are no child are you,” her eyes dropped to Ilyria’s chest, and she raised one painted eyebrow, “nor no boy.” Embarrassed, Ilyria pulled the shirt closed. The buttons must have come off during the fight with the robbers. And her pockets were empty. Ilyria realized that she had run out of ideas. “I need help,” she said to the woman. “
Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Five: A Glamour
That evening, Ilyria, led by Miasma, joined the girls—“companions” Miasma insisted they were called—in the large salon off the courtyard. Filigreed lamps warmed the room with light while breezes flowing through air channels in the walls, kept it cool. The girls had shown Ilyria how to wash down their bodies and apply scented oils so that now the room was filled with the heady scents of all the desert’s hidden flowers. Softly cushioned divans sprawled around low tables sagging with sweet fruits and spicy savoury pastries. Ilyria felt her mouth watering at the sight even though she was still sated by the generous midday meal. Mirrors lay along the walls, their gaze softened with hazy draped silks. Ilyria could not resist glancing at herself. Her long dark hair hung loose to her waist and the translucent tunic she wore fluttered around her slender limbs. She had allowed the girls to help her with a touch of kohl around her eyes and the effect was, well, she had to admit
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- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Seven: One World
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- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Five: The Shackled One
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Four: A Reckoning
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Three: Moon Dust
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-Two: True Relics
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy-One: An Old Friend
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Seventy: Early
- Ilyria and the Lightning Bird Chapter Sixty-Nine: The Palace
