Black Sun (Between Earth and Sky, #1)(24)

—A Commissioned Report of My Travels to the Seven Merchant Lords of Cuecola, by Jutik, a Traveler from Barach



The Conclave had passed into its second hour when Naranpa noticed Iktan slip in through the eastern door. Xe made xir way around the back of the circular room, passing behind the healers to join the tsiyo dedicants on the southern side of the circle. Xe slid into an empty space on a stone bench, as quiet and unnoticed as a shadow after dark.

Naranpa would not have recognized xir if she did not know what to look for, had not realized twenty minutes into Haisan’s droning lecture on Shuttering etiquette that the person sitting in Iktan’s place, wearing the red mask and covered from head to toe by a formless red robe, was not Iktan at all.

An impostor, she thought, just like during the end of the procession earlier. And the impostor sat just as still and just as silent as Iktan always did, so unless they spoke, which Iktan rarely did, why would anyone even suspect? Which made her wonder how often Iktan practiced this deception, and how often xe wasn’t actually in the room when everyone thought xe was.

She watched Iktan, the real Iktan, blend in with the dedicants in attendance, dutifully seated behind the fake priest.

“And so we will meet on the solstice to break our Shuttering,” Haisan was saying, “at dusk on Sun Rock. And this year, the solstice will be marked by the rarest of celestial occurrences. As the year divides into old and new, so also will the earth, sun, and moon align in the Convergence. Over our very heads, we will witness order move to chaos and back to order again. So it is with the heavens, so it will be with Tova. We will bear witness to the cycle of evil rising in darkness to be battled back by goodness and light when the sun prevails.”

It was a stirring speech, and the dedicants and priests stomped their feet in polite approval.

Where had xe been? she wondered. She had expressly told xir not to do anything without her say-so, but trust Iktan to interpret that request in the narrowest fashion possible.

“Sun Priest, if you would like to address the Conclave.”

Well, maybe that was ungenerous. Perhaps xe was investigating. Following a lead or something. Wasn’t that what people did when there was a crime? Or an attempted crime, at least?

“Sun Priest?”

An attempted murder, she should say. It wasn’t simply a crime.

“Naranpa!”

She blinked. Everyone was staring at her. The other three priests (well, Iktan’s impostor), the dedicants, even the servants who stood in waiting around the edges of the circular room.

She cleared her throat, desperately trying to recall what Haisan had been speaking of, but nothing came to mind.

“My apologies,” she said. “Could you repeat that?”

Haisan’s face fell. “Which part?”

“Ah… just the last part will do.”

Haisan flushed, clearly distressed. “I-I suppose I could start with—”

“Nara, are you unwell?” Abah asked, leaning forward.

She was seated directly across from her on the western side of the circle, concern etched on her pretty face.

Naranpa bristled at Abah’s use of her nickname. She’d noticed the woman using it earlier, too. It was a name she most definitely did not have permission to use.

“I’m…” She stopped. She had thought to be dismissive of Abah’s concern, correct her familiarity, but that was not her way. One did not lead through criticism. She rose to her feet. “Actually, thank you for asking, Abah. Now that you mention it, I do have something I’d like to discuss with the Conclave. As most of you know, there was an attempt on my life today.”

She paused dramatically. Not a single gasp of surprise. Well, the rumor wheel had indeed been turning. “The attempted assassin bore the marks of one of the Sky Made clans.”

Again, no reaction from the gathering, so they must all know of which clan she spoke.

She continued, “This happened because to so many we have become faceless bureaucrats, not true servants of the people. We do our duty to chart the stars, but we are also called to mold our world to better mirror the heavens. Order from chaos, good”—she looked at Haisan, finally remembering something he’d said—“good from evil. But that is not accomplished simply in prayer but in practice. It is well and good that we Shutter ourselves to prepare for the sun to return, but what of ministry to the people? Healers accessible not only to the Sky Made but to all? Knowledge of the heavens shared with the common citizen?”

“There are civil institutions for all of that,” Haisan said. “It is the Sky Made’s duty to—”

“But couldn’t it be ours, too? Why do we cede so much to the Sky Made?”

“We do not meddle in worldly politics.”

“I’m not talking about meddling,” she said, frustration clenching her fists. Why was she not more eloquent when she needed to be?

“Then what are you talking about?” Abah asked.

“I just want…” I want us to not become irrelevant.

“Nara…” Abah stood, and all attention turned her way.

Naranpa winced at that damn nickname. Did the woman do it on purpose? She must.

“It is understandable that you are shaken by the events of the day,” the healer continued. “They were terrible! I am still shaken, and it didn’t even happen to me!” She paused, her delicate features flushed with remembered horrors of something that didn’t even happen to her. “So if you need to rest, we can certainly continue this Conclave without you. Perhaps one of your dedicants can stand in for you? Perhaps Eche?”