Dark Journey
She laughed quietly. Had she respected Daniel’s dignity? Was she so unaware of her own flaws that a human must point them out? Was she so careless with her power, so accustomed to the influence that she didn’t even realize she was still using it?
“It’s part of what you are,” Daniel had said. But giving guidance was not the same as ruling like a true goddess. The one was necessary; the other was lost in her ancient past.
Still struggling with her conflicting emotions, she called for a shuttle that would carry her through the human sector to the rear of the city and the towers of the Opiri. As always, she felt as if she were entering a different world; as always, it troubled her deeply. There should be no dividing line between Tanis’s human citizens and its Opiri, and yet the half dome’s shadow was that line. There were times when both races, and the half-bloods, were expected to mingle—as in the forthcoming Games and Festival—but there was always a guardedness, especially on the part of the humans.
Isis had never ceased to hope that would change.
The driver left her at the bottom of the spiraled ramp that reached from ground level to the base of the main tower and the elevated causeway that circled the city. The old Citadel had originally been built with three elevators for each of its six towers, with a single elevator serving a powerful Bloodmaster’s Household and the other two assigned to several smaller Households of influential Bloodlords and Bloodladies. Since the reclaiming of the Citadel, the former serfs’ quarters had been remodeled, and former Households had been split up to accommodate most of the city’s Opiri, even the formerly houseless Freebloods.
But this entire tower belonged to the Nine, and nobody questioned their right to it.
Isis took the first elevator past several floors assigned to three of the Nine, stopping at the highest floor. There a large chamber, which encompassed the entire top floor of the tower, served as a meeting room more lavishly furnished and decorated than her own simple quarters. The Nine had confiscated works of fine and decorative arts from the towers’ previous inhabitants, and now kept them safe for the people of Tanis.
Isis paused just outside the elevator door to take in the scents and sights of the treasure room, basking in its beauty. On a small pedestal stood a very old sculpture, chipped and cracked, of a serene woman kneeling on one knee, her arms draped with plumage, a sun-disk set between a pair of horns gracefully balanced atop her head.
It was strange to look at it now, when Isis could still recall a time when it had been new. When she had been that figure, wearing a winged robe and carrying that same horned crown upon her head.
“Reminiscing?” Bes said, coming to join her. He was an oddity in a world of Opiri, no matter how ancient: short, round and cheerful, with a face that seemed frozen in a constant smile; large ears; and an oiled, curled beard.
Isis turned with a smile. “It is better to think of the future, don’t you agree?”
“Yes. But, ah, those were the days.”
“You find plenty of amusement with your human friends...at least in their taverns.”
Bes laughed. “They do know how to enjoy themselves. Not like—” He grimaced. “‘Uneasy is the head that wears the crown.’”
“You do Anu a disservice,” Isis said. “He is no king.”
“Tell him that.”
“We are ready to begin,” someone called from behind them. It was Hera in her deep blue chiton, a glittering peacock pendant hanging from her slender throat.
Bes rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” he said.
They walked around the corner into the meeting area. The space was dominated by a large, beautifully designed round table, and the walls were decorated with murals and works of fine art on every side.
As was customary, Anu sat at the head of the table, Ereshkigal on one side and Hephaestus on the other. Hephaestus stood out from the others with his slightly misshapen body and his limp, but so did Athena and Hermes—Athena with her bright gray eyes, and Hermes with his red-gold hair. Anu, Bes, Ereshkigal, Ishtar, Hera, and Isis herself were dark haired and golden skinned.
They all stood out among the pale-skinned, white-haired Opiri, but their differences in appearance only reinforced their position in Tanis.
“Be seated,” Anu said.
The others gathered around and took their respective chairs, Isis opposite Anu. Fond of ritual as he was, Anu brought the meeting to order with words in a language nearly forgotten even by the Elders of Tanis, and called upon each of them in turn.
Hephaestus and Ereshkigal, who lived among the Opiri, had little to report. Neither did Anu. None of their people had broken any laws or attempted to take blood from unwilling humans.
“Because they are seldom among humans,” Isis said. “How can they face and overcome such temptations if they remain among their own kind?”
“There is peace here, and no taking of serfs,” Anu said. “Is that not sufficient?”
Not for the first time, she examined Anu’s face, sensing that he was hiding something he did not want her to know. Hephaestus and Ereshkigal seemed to avoid her gaze.
But what would they have to conceal? They had all come to Tanis seeking the same way of life, worked toward the same goals.
Knowing it was better not to air her doubts at the table, Isis listened while Hermes spoke of the half-bloods—chiefly Darketans—under his aegis, and Hera and Ishtar reported on the status of their wards in the human sector. They offered only the briefest and most general commentary, as if “their” humans were of little real interest to them in spite of the Nine’s noble intentions.
With Bes it was entirely different. He was his usual cheerful self, offering nothing but praise for the humans with whom he so readily associated. If there were problems, he would never admit it.
Athena, who valued wisdom, assured her fellow Elders that her humans were content. That left Isis.
Immediately she remembered Daniel and quickly dismissed the thought. “We have had record numbers of humans apply to join us here,” she said with satisfaction. “It is as if they see our city as a beacon, shining throughout the wilderness.”
“How many actually escaped from the Citadels?” Anu asked.
“No matter how harsh their discipline, no Citadel can prevent all escapes. Most of the humans here are prepared to work hard and appreciate the strength of our defenses against outside forces.” She glanced at Athena. “They have settled throughout the city... I am surprised that none of you have reported the influx in your wards.”
“Of course I am always glad to see more humans in Tanis,” Athena said.
“My assistants will have this information,” Hera said, fondling the peacock pendant.
“I will look into it,” Ishtar said. “I would regret not having greeted them personally.”
Isis looked at her askance. Ishtar might consider most humans beneath her, but she was ready enough to take them to her bed for her own amusement.
And am I so much better? Isis thought.
“Have you nothing to say about this human who entered our city without identifying himself?” Anu asked.
Of course Anu would know, she thought. He made it his business to look after all of Tanis, and he had agents who watched and reported back to him personally. He was not secretive about it.
“The human is currently confined to the Immigrant Center,” she said. “He was a serf in Vikos. I have questioned him. He has given plausible reasons for entering Tanis without declaring himself, but of course I will investigate further.”
“See that you do,” Anu said. “We know the Enclaves and Citadels are watching us for any sign of weakness or vulnerability.”
“The Enclaves observe out of fear, and the Citadels with an eye toward conquest and stealing our humans. But I believe this human’s story.”
“You have never been objective enough where humans are concerned,” Anu said.
Isis rose from her chair and met Anu’s gaze. “I know my duty,” she said, “and have no need to be reminded.”
Anu’s lip curled slightly under his tightly braided beard, but he nodded his head.
“Very well,” he said. “I would have all of you remember that the Games and Festival will soon be upon us. It is time to let yourselves be seen in the human wards—especially Hera, Athena and Ishtar—to remind the humans for whose favor they compete.”
“Bread and circuses,” Bes said with a laugh. “Let the humans work out their aggressions by legally fighting each other.”
Isis winced. She had never liked the Games, which pitted one ward against another. Soon after their arrival in Tartaros, the Nine had agreed that competitions would be an excellent way to give both humans and Opiri an outlet for any hostile impulses as well as a method of cementing loyalty to the Elders of Tanis and thereby ending any lingering conflicts between Opiri and humans. To ensure fairness, Opir competed against Opir, human against human.
But things had changed since those early days. Over time, Opiri had dropped out of the Games, leaving them entirely to the humans. Isis felt that the competitions had outlived their original purpose. The Festival that followed them still served as an opportunity for Opiri and humans to mingle, but the Nine held themselves apart from the city’s humans far too often. They should walk among the people, not only during the Games, but on average days when citizens went about their ordinary business.
Isis remembered how angry she had been when Daniel had been “disrespectful” to her. Her reaction had sprung from the habits of millennia, but it discredited her own philosophy. How would Anu react to such boldness from a human?
What would he think if he found out how readily she had given herself to Daniel so soon after they had met?
“I will see to my people,” Athena said. The others Anu had admonished agreed with brief nods and sighs. Isis stepped back from her chair and walked away from the table.
“It is not wise to provoke Anu,” Athena said behind her. “He is overly proud, but he still has power.”
“No more than any of us,” Isis said, facing her friend. “We are all equals here.” She lowered her voice and touched Athena’s arm. “Perhaps you will come to my ward and see the new human. I do not think he is a danger to anyone in Tanis, but another interrogator might learn more than I have.”
“Let me do it,” Ishtar said, joining them. “I can be very persuasive.”
“And I have neglected my people too long,” Athena murmured.
“If you have failed to acquire enough information from this human,” Anu said, slipping up behind Athena, “it would be wise to let Ishtar try.”
Chapter 4
Isis considered objecting, but she had no desire for a real quarrel. Anu could be right, and he, too, held part of a long-lost past in his memory. The past Isis tried to ignore but was not yet ready to forget.
So she agreed, and she and Ishtar—the latter in robes that rivaled the most transparent and revealing garments worn in the Egypt of the old days—summoned a shuttle to take them back to the human sector.
“It is the middle of the night, when most humans are sleeping,” Isis said when the driver helped them out of the vehicle. “Come to my house and share my wine until morning.”
“But any human will be more vulnerable at such a time,” Ishtar said. “We should not delay.”
Isis knew she was right. Reluctantly she accompanied Ishtar to the Immigrant Center. She knew better than to let Ishtar into Daniel’s room, and had the guards bring him to the interrogation chamber.
Dressed in his new clothes, Daniel seemed almost like any other fit human in Tanis. But his eyes revealed nothing when he looked at Isis, and they narrowed to slits at the sight of Ishtar.
He knew Ishtar for what she was, Isis thought. She remembered with painful clarity every accusation Daniel had flung at her: You don’t have to order anyone to get what you want.
If he thought Isis was a seductress who commanded reverence with her influence, Ishtar would quickly prove that Isis had nothing on her sister of the Nine.
“Is this my new interrogator?” Daniel asked Isis in a calm, cool voice.
Unlike ordinary Opiri, Isis could blush. Even Daniel’s few, cursory words carried her back to his bed and into his arms...and reminded her of his final mockery: I am honored that you chose to suspend your noble chastity with me.
Ishtar had no concerns about chastity. She moved very close to Daniel, her eyes heavy lidded.
“I am Ishtar,” she purred. “I doubt you will find my questions unpleasant.”
Daniel smiled a cold, almost cruel smile, ignoring the brush of Ishtar’s full, barely covered breast against his shoulder. “Are you finished with me, Lady Isis?” he asked.
She lifted her chin. “I thought it was you who was finished with me.”
With a throaty laugh, Ishtar looked from Isis to Daniel. “How interesting. Did she not please you, Daniel? Was she reluctant to share her many gifts?”
“You seem eager to share yours, Lady Ishtar.”
“I have no prejudice against humans,” she said, stroking his chest with a plump forefinger.
“But you’re like Lady Isis,” he said. “A Bloodmistress used to getting your way.”
Instead of showing offense, Ishtar merely laughed again. “I see why Isis had trouble with you,” she said. “But if you have any secrets, you will give them up. If not to me, then to another.”
“My choice of pleasure or punishment?”
Isis flinched, thinking of the scars. “I told him there would be no punishment,” she told Ishtar.
“Then by all means, let us try the former.” Ishtar smiled at Isis. “Do you care to watch?”
The room filled with the smell of lust, and Isis couldn’t bear it. If she’d had any courage, she would have dragged Daniel out of the room. But Ishtar might succeed where she had failed, and all Daniel would lose was his pride. The city must come first.
She quickly left the room, locking the door behind her, and sat in the reception area. Endless moments passed. The Opir guards offered her warmed blood. She declined.
At last she heard the sound of a door opening and quickly closing again, with no little force. She rose as Ishtar entered the waiting room and swept past her to the door.
“Ishtar,” Isis called after her.
The former goddess paused, her beautiful face thin lipped and set. “He did not respond,” she said, as if she were speaking of something quite impossible. “He must be made of stone.”
With a silent sigh of relief, Isis took Ishtar’s arm. “You learned nothing?” she asked.
“Only that he has come for sanctuary, but wished to learn if Tanis was all that he had heard before he let himself be known here.”
“As he told me,” Isis said. “Surely there can be little more to tell.”
“Not if he resisted me,” Ishtar said with a toss of her black hair. “But perhaps that alone makes him dangerous.”
“He is different,” Isis said, “but we learned long ago that not all humans are the same.”
Ishtar blew out a puff of air. “I did note the scars upon his neck. His history must be quite interesting. I should advise Anu to keep Daniel in custody until he has the chance to interrogate the human himself, but I see that you have some concern for him.” She smiled slyly. “What draws you to this human, Isis? Perhaps you wish to take him as your consort? I would not blame you.”
“You know I have no need for a consort,” Isis said, “even if he would agree.”
“Yes,” Ishtar said with a faint scowl. “By all means, let us not forget that mortals are now our equals.”
“It was our goal when we arrived to take charge of Tartaros,” Isis said. “To guide, but not to rule.”
“Like Bes, you spend too much time among humans.”
“If you would look upon them as students rather than casual bed partners, you might see the value in their company.”
Ishtar snorted inelegantly. “Let me handle my charges in my own way. They are content enough.”
Isis knew she would gain nothing by arguing. At least Ishtar took a personal interest in some of her humans, and it was largely benevolent. She seduced, but did not coerce...though perhaps, with her, there was little difference.
For Daniel, there obviously hadn’t been.
“I will go back,” Isis said. “Tell Anu that Daniel will be my responsibility.”
“I will do as you ask,” Ishtar said, her voice silky with insinuation. “But do not let him get into trouble, or we shall both be in trouble with Anu.” She shook out her robes. “I think I shall seek out more willing company.”
Once Ishtar was gone, Isis returned to the Center. Daniel was still in the interrogation room, standing against the far wall with his arms folded firmly across his chest. His expression seemed carved in stone, as Ishtar had described, but his eyes held an almost feverish look.
He had not been totally unaffected, after all. Isis didn’t know whether she should be disappointed that he had felt Ishtar’s sexual appeal or pleased at his strength of will in resisting it.
“Why did you send her?” he asked her. “Did you think that since you failed, she would succeed?”
Isis sat in one of the chairs, angry and ashamed at the same time. “I could not rely entirely on my own judgment,” she said.
“I admit that I wasn’t expecting tactics like these from you, Lady Isis.”
“There are others I could have sent to question you,” she said sharply. “They might not have been so accommodating.”
“And all without punishment,” he said. “That would have been interesting.”
She closed her eyes, wondering how this human could defeat her so easily. “I have made myself responsible for you,” she said.
“Responsible?” he asked. “Why?”
“It is my decision to set you free, under my recognizance. If you commit any disturbance or prove to be an agent from an Enclave or another Citadel, I will be blamed.”
“By whom?” he asked, stepping away from the wall. “I have met two Bloodmistresses in the short time I’ve been here.” He took a step closer. “How many of you are there, Lady Isis?”
“How many of whom?”
“You said you were ‘among those’ who came here when the Citadel had fallen into chaos. Are there others like you and Ishtar?”
“Yes,” she said. “Nine of us were traveling together after the War, seeking—”
“Do they all look like you, more human than Opir?”
Isis paused at the question. The most ancient and powerful Opiri had always borne a closer resemblance to humanity than those who came after. That was the great irony most Opiri did not care to examine too closely.
“You’re an Elder,” Daniel said, speaking into her silence. “You didn’t go into the Long Sleep with all the other Opiri hundreds of years ago.”
“How would you know this?” she asked. “How many of my kind have you seen?”
“One,” he said. “But we all knew there were more still walking the earth.”
“You learned this in the Enclave, before you were exiled?”
“In Vikos.”
The serfs there had spoken of it, he meant. But whom had Daniel seen? There were other Elders who had chosen not to join the Nine in their quest, but they had seemingly vanished.
“Nine of you,” he said, before she could speak again. “All Elders. Who better to enforce the peace? Who better to rule than Opiri wiser and more experienced than nearly all others of their kind?”
“No!” she said, rising quickly. “Yes, we founded this city. But an elected Council of humans and Opiri makes the law and enforces it through the Darketan and dhampir Lawkeepers. The Nine only observe and occasionally advise.”
“And they don’t use their power of influence on the people of Tanis.”
Carefully considering how to answer, Isis hesitated. “We...agreed that every citizen of Tanis should be free in every way.”
“Ishtar agreed to this, as well?”
“I am sorry,” she said, clinging to her dignity. “It was wrong of me to call upon her.”
“I accept your apology,” Daniel said, though his expression remained forbidding. “I’d like to meet these other Elders. Unless, of course, they’re too busy to see a simple human visitor.”
“It can be arranged,” Isis said. “But there are other matters to attend to first.” She lifted her chin. “I will ask for your promise,” she said. “Your oath that you will never do anything to harm Tanis.”
* * *
Harm Tanis. It was a strange request. Daniel knew all too well that Isis feared some kind of enemy from among humans or other Opiri outside the city, but hurting Tanis was entirely beyond his capability, even if he’d wanted to do it.
The only humans or Opiri who would face opposition from him were those who prevented him from carrying out his mission. His goals hadn’t changed; he needed to gather general intelligence about Tanis and find out if Ares had passed through this city.
Isis’s description of the Nine had intrigued him, especially as it related to Ares. Ares was, like them, an Elder. If he had carried through with his mission here, it shouldn’t take long to find out what had become of him. Not when Isis had been so free with her information. Not when he seemed to have as much influence on her as she’d ever had over him.
Something had happened between them...something he hadn’t expected or wanted. He still didn’t understand why she had been so quick to offer herself to a stranger.
He glanced at Isis, who waited patiently for his answer. Oh, he knew what she claimed to want: to assure Daniel that she couldn’t or wouldn’t try to influence him. She had also claimed to desire him. A Bloodmistress, one of the Elders, wanting a former serf she knew almost nothing about.
That was the part he still had the most difficulty understanding. And yet, whatever her original intentions, she’d responded to him like a woman in the throes of passion, hungry to be touched, to be lost in sensual pleasure. That wasn’t something that could easily be faked.
But she’d also told him that he couldn’t abide losing control, that it was his way of rebelling against his old life. She thought she knew him.
That wasn’t why he’d rejected her at the end. It wasn’t because she’d implied that humans required her “guidance” and that she had to remain somehow untouchable in the eyes of the city, like some kind of sacred virgin.
He’d stopped because he had felt too much. For her, yes...as nonsensical as that might be.
But he’d also remembered: the human women who had been brought to him in Erebus...and the threats that had followed—threats to kill the women if he refused, threats of ugly punishments that would befall them if they failed to perform as breeding stock.
There had been Opiri women, as well. Palemon had lent him out to service them. He had been a useful object, like all his fellow serfs in Palemon’s Household.
Leaving that Household hadn’t erased what had been done. Neither had Daniel’s escape from Erebus, or the years of freedom afterward.
Just as he hadn’t appeared to have aged in those intervening years, the memories had remained as fresh as the blood in his veins. In spite of what he’d told Isis, he could still hate.
But didn’t hate her, even though she’d thrown Ishtar at him. He’d been cruel to Isis because of his own experiences, his own suspicions, but he hadn’t thought such cruelty was in his nature. Ruthlessness, yes, when it came to protecting those close to him or under his care. But hurting his only ally would not only be foolish, but unnecessary.
For now, he needed her, in spite of the risks. And as long as he had a job to do, he wouldn’t let the memories get in his way again.
“I promise you that I have no ill intentions toward Tanis,” he said.
Isis relaxed a little, as if she’d genuinely feared he might refuse to give his word. “I am glad,” she said.
“I apologize for my discourteous behavior,” he said, holding her gaze.
Her lips parted. “I, too, apologize for any distress I may have caused you. Perhaps we can simply begin anew.”