LIII
THE SANCTUM OF KA IS A MARVEL OF MASSIVE, BRIGHTLYpainted columns that support a roof almost eighty feet above, and form a central row that extends at least two hundred ahead. Past them to my left and right, the polished-smooth obsidian that forms the outer walls is met by equally tall white stone internal ones, every inch of the latter decorated, the reliefs of enormous statues carved between pillars. A high window to the north allows the light from Ka’s pyramid to flow down into the space, pouring richly off inlaid glyphs of gold and precious stones.
I am not often impressed by such things, but its immediate grandeur is hard to ignore. Perhaps not as tall or as refined, but in many ways, more overwhelming than anything the Catenans ever built with Will. This feels crafted to impress not only with beauty but also the thought of how many hours, how many men, it must have taken to construct.
And in its very centre—pulsing a startling gold—is an Aurora Columnae.
More than anything else, it’s the sight of that which brings me to a halt. Partly from surprise, partly from the instinctive anxiety it invokes. The sudden itching that stretches across the old stripes along my back. The light emanating from the obelisk’s symbols is bright, far brighter than my memory of the one at Letens. Perhaps they are different in this world, just as Will itself is. It would make sense, I suppose.
I, fortunately, am not the only one to stop and stare. Many of the dancers with me have not been here before either, and from Zai’s expression, admiration is an expected rite of passage. “This is where I leave you,” she announces to the group. “You have a few minutes to familiarise yourself with the space. Introduce yourself to some of the guests. After that, you will be needed in the preparation area through that arch.” She points out the one she means. “Do not be late, or you will not be paid.”
With that she departs, her stern expression melting as she spots someone to whom she actually wishes to talk.
The other dancers expectedly continue to ignore me; I allow myself to fade to the back of the group and then detach entirely, slipping away as they’re stillgaping around in wonder. The Sanctum is not just this space but the entire vast inner network of structures surrounding Ka’s pyramid; several archways lead to hallways or connecting rooms, but fortunately Netiqret has told me exactly where I need to go. I keep to the sides and blend in as best I can. If I had concerns that my attire would make staying unnoticed difficult, I needn’t have worried. Entertainers and outlandishly inadequate clothing are everywhere. I stand out no more than anyone else.
I slip through the crowd, politely fending off some uncomfortably straying hands, and then make for the right-most archway to the north. No one stops me.
This isn’t the way Netiqret told me to go, but it is one I made her sketch out when I insisted on knowing every detail of the layout in here.
And I still have a few minutes before she expects to meet me.
The tall corridors angling toward the Pyramid of Ka are soon echoing with the absence of life; fifty-foot-high obelisks line my way, no roof above to prevent the pulsing pyramid ahead from dominating the remainder of what I can see. I hurry with cautious purpose, ready to give the excuse of a dancer who has lost their way, but there’s no one. Just the unease of intruding alone through an impossibly vast space.
And then there’s a darker section marring my path, the end of the long open corridor of columns, and I hear it.
My stomach drops. The stones reflect green ahead, the wide offshoot of the Infernis acting as a moat between me and the pyramid’s sheer obsidian walls, and I can already feel the lowthrumpressing against my ears. Those far walls shimmer to my sight, flicker and fade. They slide directly upward from the green-tinted water’s edge and where the poison touches, steam rises, giving the polished stone a beaded, impossibly slick surface. Even from here, a few hundred feet away, the fumes burn my lungs.
An enclosed bridge crosses the gap ahead. Triangular but far larger than those beneath the city, fifty feet on all three sides and completely, utterly dark. No lines of illumination to guide the way through. An absence of light from its far side, too.
Thrum. No time to hesitate; I take step after reluctant step forward, peering into the yawning passage in front of me, pushing myself against the instinctive terror of that sound. The golden glow everywhere makes the blackness of the tunnel harder to penetrate, but my straining eyes slowly pick out darker shapesas I approach. Lining the sloping walls. Suspended, somehow stacked atop one another.
A few more seconds, and I can see the blades that form their arms.
I stop. Breath short. Kiya said that entering the tunnel would trigger their wakening, and as she was right about their presence, I see no reason to disbelieve it.Vek. How many did she say? I can only see a few, but she claimed eighteen.Eighteen. All stronger and faster than me.Vek.
I study the flow of the moat. Nothing has changed, there. With my Vitaeria, maybe I could swim it. But getting over the wall would be another matter entirely. Too high, too smooth, and even if a climbing apparatus lasted through the acidic water, it wouldn’t survive contact with themutalis.
My fists clench as I peer up at the golden light of the pyramid, bright enough that it stings my eyes. Gods. I’m soclose.
I exhale my trembling frustration, turn, and hurry back.
No one marks my brief return to the main hall; I flit through the drunken laughter and soft music and through an archway to the east. The way here is as deserted as my first excursion, if not as grand: narrower corridors and smaller colonnades that lead out onto eerily empty courtyards, a few turns, and then I am faced with the yawning stairwell that Netiqret told me to watch for.
“You got through.” Netiqret detaches from the darkness of a nearby column.
“Yes,” I say, a little petulantly. “The assessor was very impressed with me.”
“She should have been, given how much I paid her. And then told her you were a struggling cousin who had been dropped repeatedly on his head as a child.”
“Hilarious.”
“The cousin part, yes. The payment part is true though.”
I glower. “You couldn’t just let me have it?”
“Some things are morally wrong to encourage, Siamun. Even by omission.” She gestures to the stairs. “Shall we?”
Behind her, there’s abruptly movement.
