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The Darkness of the Sun
The sharpest knife

The sharpest knife

No mortal eyes saw Miiya as she dragged herself up the last few steps and stood on the cliff top, an old woman bent by grief, swaying with fatigue.

She had carried Cillo’s body to a narrow recess on the cliff wall. The cave was still cold from the long-vanished underground river that formed it eons ago. She laid Cillo out on the flat rocky floor. He looked as if he had fallen into a deep, relaxing sleep. The furrows of pain and tiredness had vanished, leaving his face smooth and oddly young.

His task was done. Hers was not.

She touched his face one last time and forced herself to get up.

Fatigue hit her like a wave, and she had to drag herself out, clinging to the rough wall of the cave for support. Once outside, she wove a cloud of concealment hiding the mouth of the cave from mortal eyes, human and animal.

Afterward, she looked for the dragonfly-buzzard. He was nowhere to be seen. She called him, even tried to reach him with her mind, and failed.

Maybe he had flown away from the scene of his loss, to gather what consolation he could by floating with the wind, under a cloudless sky.

If only she could do the same, she had thought. But she had made a promise. She had to keep faith with Cillo, at least in death.

Miiya inhaled and exhaled deeply, calming herself, focusing all her attention on the scene before her.

She had seen the castle once, but that had been through the eyes of the dragonfly-buzzard. Now she saw the castle with her own eyes. It sparkled like a giant pearl in the soft morning light.

The wall round the castle was encased in shell pearls. The immense gates were wrought in silver-iron and decorated with sea dragon motifs. The air was perfumed by the scents of a thousand flowers. Somewhere a fountain tinkled.

It looked like the kind of place where handsome princes lived happily ever after with beautiful princesses. Everything about the castle was inviting. Except that spine-chilling silence. It was as if she was the only living being in this place. She wished she had the dragonfly-buzzard with her. Talking to him might have lessened her loneliness.

Miiya walked towards the nearest gate. It was guarded by two Tailosii guards were dressed in uniforms of light blue and silver, and carried no weapons. At first glance their faces looked handsome, until you noticed those eyes. Their stance watchful but relaxed reminded her of Terryc. So he had stood, when she walked into his workshop for the first time to purchase a new lens for her distance-seeing glass…

Miiya gave herself a mental shake. Past was a drug she couldn’t afford to imbibe in. Not if she wanted to give Jubi a future.

The gates were not locked. She could open one and go in. But how would the guards react, if an invisible hand pushed the gate open from outside? Would they raise the alarm? How would they do that? The greater danger was that there could be humans on the lookout, especially after what happened with Jubi.

She picked up her robe by the hem and tied it round her waist and rubbed her cold hands together, to drive out the numbness.

The Tailosii hadn’t moved.

She placed a slightly trembling foot on the head of the bottommost sea dragon, caught the next one by the tail and started the climb, gaiting sureness with each step. She reached the top and climbed down onto the other side.

Flowers everywhere, blooming, fragrant, and yet no bees, no insects, not even a silent butterfly. It was as if all living creatures with a choice shunned the castle and the grounds.

Here

The voice made her lose her step and almost sent her sprawling. She steadied herself and turned around, looking for its source. She was alone.

She had heard the voice not in her ear but in her head.

A rush of gladness lightened her heart, and brought a smile to her face.

Seedevii. I was afraid you had gone for good.

The bird’s voice was stiff. I wanted to. I tried to. But I couldn’t. So I came back. The old man, he wouldn’t have wanted me to leave you.

She smiled again. So you are not as immune to ties of affection as you thought you were, my friend.

The bird’s voice flashed with anger. I have a score to settle. Can you find me?

Miiya probed with her mind. She could sense the dragonfly-buzzard, though far away. I think so.

Then come. The girl is locked up in a room. I’m perched outside.

Miiya looked for an entry point, moving from closed door to closed door, loath to take the risk of opening one. She was retracing her steps, when she saw a woman walking towards the castle carrying a basket of flowers. A Tailosii, from the way she walked, swift steps, faces turned ahead, not looking round at anything. A mindless walk.

The Tailosii reached a silver studded door made of some whitish wood, opened it and went inside. Miiya slipped in, seconds before the door swung closed.

They were in a chamber furnished with four chairs, a table and a huge silver urn. The Tailosii walked up to the urn and began to arrange the flowers she had brought, long stalks of blue ladies’-slipper-orchids. She worked like the gardeners, with single-minded efficiency, an efficiency that was not quite human.

Miiya shivered and turned away.

The link between the bird’s mind and hers was a thin frayed strand, almost non-existent in places. She followed it, from chamber to chamber, seeing no one other than an occasional Tailosii.

Inside of the castle was as alluring as the outside. The carpets, the hangings, the upholstery and the decorations were all in light blue and soft silver. The sea dragon motif was everywhere, woven into wall hangings and carpets, carved into furniture, done up as paintings. It would have been perfect, had it not been for one absence – sound.

The mental thread linking her to the bird was strong now, a sign that she was on the right track. One more corridor, and she was at the bottom of a wide staircase. She ascended it, her bare feet sinking into the deep carpet. The thread connecting her to the bird became more potent with each step, until it turned into an invisible force pulling her forward. She hurried, another deserted corridor, another staircase, wider than the previous one, to a heavy wooden door. Two Tailosii guards stood on the either side of the door, ramrod straight.

Miiya reached out to the bird. Is she there?

Yes, and her father. Is there any way you can come in?

Miiya studied her surroundings.

The corridor was bare except for a tall silver vase on a silver plinth. The vase bore a single stem of balloon flowers, the gleaming dark blue petals framed by the light blue walls.

She walked up to the vase and pushed it. It teetered on the plinth for a second, crashed to the ground and rolled away.

The sound echoed and re-echoed through the silent corridor.

The Tailosii guards didn’t move, didn’t even look up.

The door swung open and Jubi’s father rushed out. His dilated eyes fell on the fallen vase and on the motionless figures of the two Tailosii, and narrowed to suspicious slits. He stepped away from the door and walked up to where the vase lay.

He left the door ajar.

She slipped into the room and moved towards the shelter of a dark corner, between a dressing table and a wardrobe.

Jubi’s father shouted at the Tailosii to pick up the vase. He re-entered the room, closing the door behind him. His face still wore a puzzled expression.

Miiya took a quick look around. The room was furnished with an eye for beauty and feel for luxury, soft carpets and glittering wall-hangings, two silver urns bearing profusions of blue monkey-orchids, the bed on a dais curtained and canopied, several upholstered chairs and a small three-legged table. Through the open windows the sun streamed in, and sea air, cool and salty.

The picture of pleasant ease was undermined by one jarring anomaly; all three windows were barred. The silver-steel grills were worked in a floral pattern, yet they revealed the reality of the room, not a refuge but a prison.

Jubi sat in a blue-upholstered silver chair backing a barred window. Her clothes were torn and muddy, her hair was undone, her face pale and drawn. But she was not cowering, shivering or crying. She sat in her chair with her head held high, her back straight, her mouth firm, her hands relaxing on her lap. She watched her father as he came into the room and closed the door, her expression unreadable. “What was it, Papa?”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The tone of her voice felt both familiar and unfamiliar to Miiya. She had heard it before but she couldn’t remember where and when.

The man shrugged. “A vase had fallen.” He stood indecisively. His eyes moved about the room, like an animal in the presence of an unknown threat.

Miiya shrank into her corner. She knew he couldn’t see her. But there was something disconcerting in his glance, as if he sensed an alien presence.

Suddenly he was moving, snooping into corners, staring at the darkness, his nose twitching as if he was a hound on the trail of a rabbit.

“Papa, please, listen. You have to come with me. We must escape this place.”

Jubi walked up to her father, caught him by the hand and pulled him towards her, trying to embrace him. “Papa, please, we have to get out of here, before it’s too late.”

Miiya placed the tone of voice. It was the one Jubi used with Cillo.

The man turned around with an angry glare, trying to pull himself free from the clinging arms. “Don’t you get it, Jubi? It’s already too late. Too late for me the moment the carriage stopped outside my door, too late for you the moment you decided to rescue me. How could you be so stupid?” He paused, his face twitching, his lips pursed. Then he said in a softer tone, “You did it out of love. I know that. I’m doing the same Jubi. I want to save you. I’m not thinking of myself. I’m thinking of you.”

Jubi’s cry pierced Miiya’s heart. “How can you, Papa? How can you?”

The man glared. When Miiya saw him last, he had appeared suave and contented. Now he looked like a cornered animal.

“Because that’s the only way I can save you from an eternity of living-death.” He enunciated each word with brutal care. His voice was like serrated steel.

“Might as well kill me, Papa.”

The man said nothing, his attention torn between his daughter and whatever he sensed.

Jubi used the moment of inattention to put her arms round his neck. She nestled her head on his chest, and looked up at him. “Come away with me. If we fail, we’ll die together. It would be so much better than this life.”

The man shoved her away from him with such force she would have fallen had she not clutched at a chair.

Miiya choked back a cry just in time.

Jubi steadied herself and stood lance-straight staring at the man, as if she was seeing not her father for whose sake she had risked everything and borne more, but a stranger.

“Death? Death is not an option, daughter, not for me, not for you. If we fail, we won’t die. They’ll turn both of us into human husks.”

Jubi shrank back as if he had slapped her. Then she straightened her shoulders and looked at her father. When she spoke, her voice was steady.

“Papa, you have to listen to me.”

The man’s laugh was harsh and hollow. “No, you listen to me, daughter. You should never have come here. I sacrificed myself to keep you safe. You could have lived and died in safety in Draca. You could have had a life, with a man of your own, with children. But no, you had to put yourself in danger and put me in danger. Thanks to you, I stand to lose all I’ve achieved. And mark this well, daughter. Despite your ingratitude, I’m still unwilling to abandon you to your fate. I’m still trying to save you.”

“Save me, Papa?” Jubi’s voice was bitter. “Is that what you call it? Telling me to submit to that monster? Telling me to become his...wife.” She spat the last word, as if it was some poison she needed to get rid of.

If her father heard her words, he gave no sign of it. “I had to beg and beg, Jubi, to get this concession from the king. His other ministers wanted you to be Possessed immediately. They resent me, you see, resent my influence with the king. Compared to them, I’m a newcomer. But His Majesty is farseeing. He understands the need for new blood. That was why I was taken, because I am a lettered man, a man of sense and intelligence. His Majesty, in his incomparable God-given wisdom, values me. Already I’m tasked with many important matters. I’m trusted and let me tell you, that is a great honour.” His sudden smile made Miiya shudder. “You should be proud of me, daughter, proud of what I have achieved, instead of standing in judgment of me.”

“Proud, Papa? Proud of what?”

Once again the man continued as if he didn’t hear Jubi. “His Majesty was most merciful. He is the perfect prince, daughter, kind as he is wise. That was why he agreed to spare you. And I expect gratitude from you, daughter. When you are taken before His Majesty, go down on your knees, place your forehead on the ground three times and thank him for sparing you. It’s Karila’s job to instruct you in these matters, but between us, daughter, I don’t trust that woman. She is my enemy, just like everyone else. She’d want you to fail. You remember that and check everything with me. We can’t afford to make any mistakes.”

Jubi stared at her father, her mouth hanging open. “You call that sparing me? Getting me to become his succubus?”

The man startled. “Don’t utter such blasphemies, girl,” he said, each word falling like a lash. “If anyone hears, we’ll be condemned. Is that what you want? To become one of those things?”

Jubi said nothing.

The man’s voice dropped a little. “Your brother, Jubi? Remember him? He guards my door. I look at him and he doesn’t see me. I call his name and he doesn’t hear me. When I first saw him, my heart broke. I embraced him. I couldn’t stop my tears. His flesh, his body felt the same. But...the thing I held in my arms wasn’t my son.” His voice rose. “I don’t want you to become like him. I don’t want to see you walking about the palace, doing whatever they tell you to do, like…” His voice broke. He leaned against a chair, dry sobs racked him body.

Jubi sat in her chair, her body bent almost double.

The man made a visible effort to control himself. He walked up to Jubi and laid a hand on her shoulder. “There, there, Jubi, everything will turn out to fine. You’ll be pleased by the king. Did you think he was some ugly monster or a hunchback or something unseemly?” His laugh made Miiya shiver. “He is tall and well-built. His features are handsome. His voice is soothing. He doesn’t get angry. And I have seen him with two of his wives. He is most attentive to them, an affectionate and indulgent a husband as any woman could wish for. And once you conceive, you’ll be treated like a goddess. That I have seen. The last but one wanted porridge made out of a scented rice which grows only in a small island far South. A journey of more than a month. And yet His Majesty managed it.”

Jubi’s voice was stripped of all emotions. “Tell me, what will happen to me once I fail to produce a living child?”

“That’ll take at least a year. Too long for me to think about at this moment of peril. Right now, I’m concerned about tomorrow, even tonight.” He paused and said in a low voice, “The watchers on the tower reported your arrival. Fortunately for you, I was the minister on duty. My order was to take the intruders alive, make them reveal what they were doing here, then to kill the old man and hand the young woman over to Karila to be drained. When I went there, I found you-”

The man’s eyes ranged round the room, like a hunted animal. Jubi leaned forward, her hands held out, but shrank back as if what she saw in his face destroyed her momentary hope. She said softly, “You should have killed me, Papa.”

“His Majesty doesn’t believe in waste. Every young life is precious to him.”

Jubi gawped. Miiya felt like gawping herself.

“It’s not a bad life, Jubi.” The man’s voice was soft now, pleading. “You will see him soon, daughter, but let me describe him some more. He wears his hair long, and it suits him. It’s like silver, not brown like ours, a gift of the Father to our royal family. He has such a regal bearing. When you see him, you will think he is not a mortal king but a god. But such a simple man, such kindness, such generosity. You will be the queen.” The man’s eyes glistened. “Imagine that. My daughter, the queen.”

“Until I prove I can’t serve my purpose.” Miiya could sense the steeliness spreading over Jubi’s voice, like ink on blotting paper. “What then, Papa?”

“You’re a clever girl, Jubi. And a resourceful one. As I said, you have a year. You can use that time wisely. You can please our lord, make yourself indispensable to him in many ways. So when...when... So you can save yourself by rendering him other services. I’ve already told him that you are even more lettered than I. His Majesty was pleased to hear it. And never forget, I’m here. Together we can plan. We can help each other to get more influence, more power.” His voice was excited now. “Just buy yourself some time, daughter. I beg you.”

Miiya wondered how the father of Jubi’s dreams and recollections ended up like this?

Jubi’s voice was now pure steel. “So you want me to save myself from a monster by becoming one?”

The man smiled. “He’s not a monster, Jubi-child.”

Jubi winced. “Don’t call me that. Don’t you dare to call me that.”

Once again the man continued as if he was deaf to her intervention. “He’s just a man who wants a son.” He stepped up to Jubi and took her hand in his. “I once thought as you do now. I agreed to serve them because they threatened to bring you here. I was nursing secret plans of escaping, until I saw the evidence of his love and his suffering.” He paused. “The uppermost floor of the castle is ready for the living son he hopes to have. Rooms full of toys fit for every age. The costliest furniture and clothing.” He lowered his voice. “Then there is this long chamber, with a domed ceiling and tall windows, full of light and sea air. It’s called the Past Nursery. It contains the bodies of every baby born dead, preserved in huge crystal jars. He spends hours there, walking around, looking at those poor dead things, talking to them. Your heart would go out to him when you see that, daughter, and hear his voice, so tender, so full of love...”

Jubi’s voice was quiet. “Papa, tell me how Tailosii are made.”

“Now, Jubi...”

“No, tell me. Before I decide what to do, I need to know.”

“This is not the kind of thing you should hear.”

“No, just the kind of thing that’d be done to me,” Jubi’s voice was like ashes, cold and spent. “If you want me to consider your proposal, you must answer my question.”

“A little cut, on the top of your head.” The man’s voice was dull. “They say it’s the sharpest knife in the world.”

“Why the head?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s the place where the life-force can be sucked out.”

“Does it hurt?”

The man said nothing. But Jubi must have seen the answer on his face because she nodded.

“I see. And where is this done”

The man seemed to have lost his earlier reticence. His words tumbled out. “For his ladies, it’s done in the Past Nursery, next to the jar nestling the body of the new baby. At dawn, with the first golden light filling the room. For the others, there are lesser chambers in the second floor.”

“Will I be conscious?”

Jubi’s I was emphasized. The man must have noticed it, because he said nothing. But his face must have reflected the answer, again.

Jubi nodded. “And who will do it, this little cut with the sharpest knife in the world?”

“Jubi, this is...”

Her voice cut in, like the world’s sharpest knife. “Answer me.”

“The king. That’s how he gets to control them. When it’s one of his ladies, there’s a great deal of ceremony, like a second marriage. The lady is dressed like a bride, in red. She’s escorted to the Past Nursery by Karila. His Majesty waits, as glorious as the sun. Everything’s solemn and beautiful, I’m told.”

“And the other men and woman, how are they Possessed?”

The man seemed to have become resigned. Perhaps he had been drilled into succumbing to the stronger will.

“His Majesty of course takes the best. The rest are divided according to his wishes.”

“And they too are Possessed in the same way?”

“Well, there’s no ceremony. His Majesty makes the cut and whoever the chosen courtier sucks in the life-force.”

“How do you suck in the life-force? How do you know that it is done successfully?”

“Because their eyes go blank and turn into silver slits. You just place your lips on the cut and suck in. You feel it, the energy entering your body, your veins. It is such an exhilarating...”

The words died on a groan of horror. It came not from Jubi, but from her father. He dropped her hand and sprang back.

“You tricked me!”

Jubi stood as motionless as a rock, staring at her father. “I just wanted the truth.”

Jubi’s father reeled, as if had been hit by lightening. He steadied himself and fled, his limp barely visible, banging the door behind him.