The Unmaking (The Last Days of Tian Di, #2)(40)
Chapter
10
Nia climbed the black stone steps into Tian Xia, leaving the lake of the Crossing behind her while the nebulous boat faded to nothing. With this moment ever before her, she had been patient for years. She had prepared everything meticulously and at last the time had come for vengeance. For truly only revenge, the laying low of all those who had hurt and betrayed her, would give her any peace now. She reached the top of the steps and looked out over the red domed temples of the Faithful. She did not need to be patient any longer.
As she approached, black-robed figures massed in the fields and filled the catwalks on the outside of the temples, pointing at her. Soon they had all disappeared inside. Praying, no doubt. As if the Ancients were listening, as if they cared what happened here in the world they had left behind. The High Priestess descended a set of stairs from the Temple of the Nameless Birth and waited, alone, for Nia. Her eyes were like empty pools beneath her beaded hood. She bowed low as Nia approached and said in the Language of First Days, “The Ancients have allowed that the Great Sorceress has returned.”
“Forsake the Ancients,” said Nia curtly, pushing past her and climbing the steps. The fatalism of the Faithful irritated her to no end. She had never been able to share their beliefs, though she had endured the trials, sworn allegiance and donned the cloth simply out of gratitude for their protection once. They had been her first friends in the worlds, though she had not stayed with them for long, and so the Oracle’s betrayal had stung all the more later on. It was the Oracle who had formed the Triumvira. It was the Oracle who had decided on banishment. She would pay for that now.
The chambers in the Temple were full of the Faithful chanting and praying. She could feel the power of their words joining and rising up. Such a waste of power. They were calling on beings too far away to hear or care. Nia passed them quickly, annoyed by their passivity. She descended the central spiral staircase and made her way swiftly along the dark, narrow passageway at the very bottom of the temple. None followed her. She stopped suddenly, shrugged off her coat, and drew from its scabbard a curved sword she had strapped to her back. She knelt on the cold floor and touched one of the flagstones lightly, whispering to it. It fell away without a sound. Nia leaped into the chamber. The Oracle stood against the wall, waiting for her.
“Somehow I knew you’d be huddled in a dark corner like a bug,” mocked Nia. “It occurred to me that you might have moved quickly enough to gather your little cabal but clearly you’re not as organized as I’d feared. Do you know, your people are all just babbling away up there. Not one of them tried to stop me.”
“Destiny cannot be prevented,” said the Oracle. “Though you will show me no mercy, I must tell you that I have never acted out of malice. I speak only the Truth given to me by the Ancients, Lords of us all.”
“Calling yourself unmalicious shows a shocking lack of self-knowledge,” said Nia. “And I don’t know who is whispering answers in your ear but I’d be wary of assuming the future is set in stone. You’ll never be a match for those who believe they can make the future what they will. But never mind. I’ll ask you a question and you tell me the answer. When will the Oracle of the Ancients die?”
The Oracle closed her eyes and raised her head. A single tear slid down her cheek. “I have seen it,” she said. “I am ready. You will strike my head to the ground with your sword.”
“You could try to stop me,” said Nia. “I don’t know if that’s crossed your mind. But I’m in a rush anyway, so thank you for being an idiot.”
She stepped forward and swung her curved sword so it made an arc of light through the chamber. A great wail went up in all the temples as the head of the Oracle of the Ancients rolled to the earthen floor and her eight golden legs crumpled beneath her. Before her body had fallen, Nia had turned away and left the Chamber.
Violence hummed through her as she walked away from the temples, unsatisfied by that single swing of the sword. It was done, but it was not enough, it was not enough. She turned and looked back at the Faithful fleeing the Temples and her heart was taut like the strings of a violin. She threw her head back, flung out her arms, and called down a storm. Black clouds hurtled towards her across the sky and then they dove down, twisting into tornados. Great jagged swords of electricity leaped from the sky, turning everything white for a moment. Thunder drowned out her cries for more. The sky cracked and boomed, the wind howled, the rain descended in a roar. Nia found herself laughing as the temples were torn apart and burned and the earth was drenched. This was what she wanted. She could not hold within her all this rage and all this joy. Only nature was large enough to express it for her. She stood beneath the storm she had called until her heart was spent and soothed, and then a breeze swept it away and the day was quiet again, the harsh Tian Xia sky clear overhead. She was soaking wet but she felt better. She wiped the rain and tears from her cheeks, pulled back her drenched hair, and left the wreckage of the temples drying in the sun behind her.
~~~
Eliza woke suddenly. The room around her was dark and silent. At first she couldn’t remember where she was. She sat up, heart racing, groping for her dagger, which she found under the pillow as always. Then it came back to her. She conjured a small light and looked around General Malone’s bedroom. She was alone but when she opened the door she found a guard had been posted outside.