37. Religious Fervor

Religious Fervor

I wasn't sure what I'd expected for a faery temple, or one to a goddess of mercy. Something Greek-looking, maybe, all tall marble columns and beautiful statuary, or like a medieval painting. The palace had always reminded me of how European kings had filled their fancy halls with Greek statuary; there were a lot of stone carvings and mosaic inlays, and the statues I'd seen were all naturalistic marble.

The Clement Palace was a place that people lived in, though. It changed as they changed. The temple?

It was ancient.

A set of four standing stones, each about ten feet high, framed the dark mouth of a cave. They weren't the same color as the dark stone of the mountain; more of bluish-gray, like a stormcloud turned into solid rock. Moss and lichen grew over them in a shroud, obscuring the weather-worn carvings on the surface. Along the rock wall of the cave, a massive thicket of what had to be willow rioted, the leaves turning yellow.

About thirty feet into the cave, in the dim shadows, a flat-topped boulder squatted, covered with cut-off braids of hair and other small offerings. A brazier stood on the altar, partially obscuring the fresh, glittering stone where something had once stood. The statue that walked away , I thought, eyeing it. Smoke drifted lazily up, carrying the sweetness of incense and the acrid scent of burned hair.

Cass helped me down, then dismounted behind me. He gave himself a shake that rattled his wings. The sense of him receded, until all I could feel was what I always felt, the beat of his heart and the casual control of his magic. "The sacred places are deep inside the cave," he said in a hushed voice. "They're forbidden to the uninitiated. As Monarchs, we have the right to enter any place in our Court, but it's polite to enter only by the invitation of the cave's guardians."

I looked over my shoulder at him as a heavyset mortal dressed in dark green came and took the reins from his hand to lead the horse away. "So we pay our respects at the altar?"

He nodded. "It's safer," he said quietly. "Caves are a pathway between worlds. The lights of the sky and the darkness of the earth rule wild magic and hold us between them, but while we're creatures quite used to the sky, it can be very overwhelming to be embraced by the earth." Cass exhaled slowly. "Especially for someone like me."

"Because you channel its magic?" I asked.

"And because I'm a flier, and one strongly tied to light. It makes the magical power of the earth and of darkness much more difficult to handle." Cass half-spread his wings, moving with an instinctual sense for where the sun was, the sunlight glaring off the metal feathers. "Come on," he said, resettling his wings. "Let's pray."

Cold air drifted out of the mouth of the cave. My arms prickled as goosebumps lifted, and I shivered, even though the cold didn't bother me. Even simply crossing the threshold of the cave gave me a sense of walking into a holy place, as if the spirits dwelled here. Beside me, Cass' wings chimed quietly, his own shiver announced by his feathers.

My eyes adjusted slowly to the dim lighting. Formless shapes resolved into pillars and stalagmites, and into the figures of hooded acolytes kneeling in the shadows. The whole floor was smooth, almost polished, a silty clay dirt showing no footprints. A series of black dots marked one stalactite; deeper in the cave, almost invisible in the dark, a strange symbol drawn in red marked the throat of a tunnel. It looked like a marker of some kind, or maybe a warning.

I knelt in front of the altar. All of the spookiness of Faery was somehow more real here. This was a land of gods and monsters. The Court thrummed beneath me, as much a living thing as the creatures that walked across it. I got the sense that if I walked into this cave – that if I let the darkness swallow me whole – the shadows would follow me out.

Cass stood behind me, a creature of the sky, and started singing in a language I didn't recognize. His sonorous voice filled the cave. I closed my eyes and let it fill me, too, until I could feel the rhythm of it like his heartbeat.

Instinct made me add my voice to his. I didn't know the song or the language, but I could tell how it would move. I sang a love-poem in Vietnamese with him, one I'd memorized years ago for a contest, full of yearning. It matched the longing in his voice, and I hit the last syllable with him, our voices melding into one.

It felt like the cave was shining, as if our voices had put sunlight in the walls. All of Mercy turned towards us, listening.

With warmth on my face and peace in my heart, I added my incense to the brazier. The scent of it filled the cave. Carefully, I plucked several of my hairs and rolled them together, then set them on the embers. "For those lost without anyone to remember," I murmured to the power of the earth. "For the people who fell to Mercy, and for those sleeping in the stone. We remember you. Mercy remembers you. Be at peace."

Cass got to one knee behind me, the heat of his body warming my back, and dropped three strands of his own hair into the brazier. They curled and burned, the acrid smoke stinging my eyes. "For all those I've slain, whether on the field of battle or in their homes and fields, I ask for mercy," he said softly, speaking in Vietnamese. "Let their memories survive when their bodies did not. Let their spirits be at peace. Let me always remember them."

My eyes went wide with surprise. But then, I'd always known my language was his, hadn't I? I'd spoken to Mercy in Vietnamese – had spoken to him – and he'd listened.

"Let's go," he whispered, still using my language. "If Ithronel answers, I think I'd prefer to be elsewhere."

I fought back a smile as he got back to his feet, then rose and followed him out of the dark. Even though we'd only been in the cave for a few minutes, it felt like emerging out of an eon of slumber, as if time ran differently underground—as if stepping over that threshold had been much more than symbolic.

Cass gave himself a hard shake, his wings rattling.

"Ready for civilization again?" I asked wryly.

"Very." The attendant started to lead our horse back over, but Cass held up his hand. "Have her sent back up to the Clement Palace," he said. "We'll fly." He got down on one knee again, proffering his arms.

I didn't hesitate. I put my arm around his neck, and let him sweep me into the sky.

Once he wasn't power-flying for altitude, I gave his braid a playful tug. "My language isn't extra magical or spiritual, you know," I said in Faery. "It's a normal language."

"I know," he replied in Vietnamese, flashing me a bright smile. "I didn't want anyone but you to understand me, though. It seemed convenient."

I took a moment to code-switch, then asked in English, "Do you know this one, too?"

He rumbled a laugh. "I do," he said in the same language. "Were you raised bilingual? Soulmate bonds come with the language of the heart. I haven't heard of anyone transferring two languages, but, then, I haven't made a study, and mortal soulmates aren't that common." He paused, frowning, then added, "At least, they usually aren't."

"I was, yeah. Do you mean Vad and Dani?" I asked.

"Among others," Cass said, switching back to his native tongue. "In the past century, there have been five fae-mortal soulmate pairings that I know of, and most of those have been in the past five years. All of them in Raven Court or its bordering Courts." His ears pinned back. "All royal fae, too. Ayre Xirangyl, who was a prince of Raven Court, and his cousin Varistan, who's the son of a princess; the crown prince of Stag Court, now King; Vaddy, who was a prince… and now me."

I blinked at the recitation. "That's weird."

"Very," he said, halfway to a growl. "I don't like it. I'm deeply grateful for you, but I dislike the pattern I've been written into." His pointed ear flicked like he was scaring off a fly. "It could simply be the approaching cometary alignment fucking with the normal order of things, but I don't think so. Sarcaryn's been involved with at least three of them, which is too much for me to easily believe it's a coincidence."

"Sarcaryn?" I asked, looking down at the encampment of cultists as we soared overhead. The sound of fervent cries drifted up.

"The stag-god of sex and beauty. He's associated with autumn color, the hunt, and desire and lust of all kinds." Cass circled over the palace, taking us down towards the wall.

The situation near the gate hadn't gotten much better with our absence. The guards had been forced to switch from keeping people off the road to keeping them from trying to rush after us, penning the cultists up against the cliffside. Angry chanting floated up, sounding like something from videos of protests, but the words were garbled enough from the distance that I couldn't make them out. People were inches away from guards, shouting, and I caught sight of little knots of people being tended, blood on their faces and hands.

Guards three men deep blockaded the far end of the drawbridge, trying to keep people off of it, but Cass' shadow had alerted people to his presence. Desperate people pointed at the sky and cried out. More shoved their way towards the drawbridge, trying to get to the palace walls.

Cass' arms tensed on me. The wind picked up, lashing at my hair and tearing leaves off of trees. He growled and cocked his wings, throwing us into a shallow dive, heading for one of the rooftop doors.

I cupped my hand around his ear. "You have to do something about that!" I said, pitching my voice over the wind of our passage. "People are going to get hurt!"

His ears pinned back, but he pulled up, beating his wings to take us higher. " I might hurt them," he said grimly. "The guards are under orders to minimize their harm. If someone grabs you, I—" Cass panted. Thunder rumbled in the distance. "I don't think I'll handle it well," he ground out.

People kept flailing at the guards, trying to claw their way to the palace.

I gnawed on my lip. "I know, but you can't keep ignoring them. Look at them." The wind snatched at the worshippers. A brightly-colored scrap of cloth tore off of a woman's head and tumbled through the air, carrying it away. I frowned at him when he didn't say anything. "Seriously, Cass. It's like a horde of superfans desperate to see their pop idol. It has to be you."

He let out a low growl. "Fine. Hold on," he said, and stooped into a dive.

The people had enough self-preservation left that they scattered when they realized the Merciful King was dropping out of the sky at them. He flung his wings out moments before impact, flinging dirt and grit into the air, and landed heavily on the stone in front of the drawbridge. The impact sent cracks radiating across the ground, dark lines that flared with sunlight before settling into dusty earth.

A woman cried out in rapture. People rushed forward.

Cass roared .

It wasn't a sound a man could make. It was the roar of a tiger, deep and vicious. Even held in his arms, even with the soulmate bond, all my blood went cold.

Everyone stopped in their tracks. The air went perfectly still, and perfectly silent. One person stumbled and fell, then scrambled backwards for the safety of the crowd.

He kept his wings mantled, menacing with them like the weapons they were. "That is enough ," he said, pitching his voice so it carried. "I have been tolerant. I have ensured you remained unmolested, and granted you forbearance. This is how you return my gentleness?"

"Your glory—" someone started.

Cass cut them off with a snarl. "Do not name me as one of the ancient gods," he said, his voice cold. "Call me 'your splendor' if you must. Chant prayers I don't hear and beg for miracles I don't intend to grant. But I am not a god. I'm a man, and I demand you treat me as such." He raked his gaze across the crowd.

They stayed silent. Someone started crying.

"You injured my soldiers. You trampled my fields. You frightened my Queen," Cass continued ruthlessly. "Enough of this. Go home."

A fae girl stepped forward, trembling. She looked young; no more than fifteen. Small horns curled up from her forehead, and a long tail coiled behind her. "Most of us don't have homes, your glor—splendor," she said, her voice shaking. "My father threw me out because I wouldn't let him cut off the horns and tail you gave me back, like he had when I was an infant." She pointed at a man. "His village is a forest." To a woman. "Hers, too."

Sorrow seeped into me from Cass. His grip on me eased, and his wings relaxed partway down. "There was to be space set aside outside of Taeskana for the local refugees."

She bit her lip, looking away, her ears turning like an anxious animal's. "You may not be a god, your splendor, but we know this Court is under your hand more than anyone else's, even the goddess'. You're our hope, but, um… not everyone agrees? We weren't welcome. "

Cass closed his eyes for a moment, breathing carefully. The sky darkened—but instead of the storm I expected, dreary gray clouds collected, promising cold and misting rain.

He wasn't simply controlling his body with magic. He was meditating. I could hear him counting in the back of my mind, so like how I dealt with my own sharp emotions that I almost laughed.

"If we set up another place for you, will you go?" I asked, trying to be loud enough for people to hear, and to give Cass time to reel himself in without locking his emotions down with magic. "This isn't going to be a good spot to camp once winter hits, and even with His Splendor caring for the land, it's going to be torn up and reek of… well. You know." It already did smell faintly of sewage.

People started murmuring, looking at each other and at the sky. The girl wrapped one arm around herself, looking around as if she could find someone else to talk, but she was in front, and no one else stepped forward.

Her tail tucked forward between her legs. "Would you come? Sometimes?" she asked, flinching when Cass' wings flared again and a flash of lightning lit the sky.

I gave his braid a light tug, trying to bleed off some of his tension. I knew he hated this—being worshiped like this, and the nexus of everything. Too bad , I thought briefly. He was who he was, and there was no escaping it.

"Of course we would," I said. A few visits to desperate people who were only looking for hope seemed like a small price to pay for peace. "We won't put ourselves in danger, and we expect the respect you would give to any other Monarch, but it's not like we plan to stay up on this rock forever."

Being. Free? With my… favors? Cass asked silently, the effort of shaping the words loudly enough in his own mind for me to automatically overhear them obvious. The words were even tenser than his shoulders.

Y-E-S , I traced on the back of his neck.

He shivered, a pleasant tingle running down my spine. "Are we settled?" he asked in a dangerous voice.

People murmured. I saw some nods; heard some agreement. No one protested when the fae girl nodded her head, worrying her lip between her teeth.

"Good," he said, and launched us back into the sky.