A Magic of Nightfall

ENGAGEMENT
Audric ca’Dakwi

Someone was screaming. Over and over and over.

S When Audric opened his eyes, everything was tinged with red as if the world had been painted with blood. Clots of it swam over his vision. His breath was a rasp, a husk; he could barely draw breath. He seemed to be in his own chambers, in his own bed, but he couldn’t move his body at all. His face itched, and he wanted to bring his hand up to scratch it, but he could not lift either hand or move his feet. He was afraid to lift his head and look down, afraid of what he might see.

And the pain… There was so much pain, and he wanted to scream but he could only moan, a thin, eternal cry. He could feel hot tears running down his face.

“You can’t die. You can’t…” Her voice was as torn and ragged, a bare whisper.

“Great-Matarh?” he asked. “Where are you? Marlon? Seaton? Where is Kraljica Marguerite?”

His voice came from an impossible distance. His ears were full of a continuous roar, as if the city were falling around him. “Marlon? Seaton?” he called again. The pain surged over him like a great, breaking wave. He tried to scream, but nothing emerged from his open mouth.

A face loomed over him and he blinked. He thought he recognized Archigos Kenne. Teni-chants mixed in with the roar in his ears. “Archigos?”

“Yes, Kraljiki. I came as soon as I heard.” He could barely hear the Archigos, the words lost in the roaring in his ears.

“What happened?” The two words each weighed as much as the great marble blocks of the palais facade. He could barely spit them out. He closed his eyes.

“We’re still not certain, Kraljiki. O’Offizier cu’Kinnear… he may have been a Numetodo, or…” The Archigos’ voice faded. Audric opened his eyes again; the Archigos’ mouth was working as if he were still speaking, but Audric could hear only the red-tinged roar, and it swelled and with it the pain again, and he tried to scream along with it, but it was only a gasp. “… never know now… Councillor ca’Ludovici terribly injured… Marlon and Seaton dead…” the Archigos was saying, but Audric was no longer listening.

He had glimpsed the painting of his great-matarh. It leaned against the wall near his bed. The thick frame was shattered along its left side, and there were great rents in the canvas itself, frayed wounds crawling over Marguerite’s face. He moaned again. “No!” he tried to shout, as if the denial could push it all away and change everything.

He remembered. He wasn’t certain. The o’offizier approaching the Sun Throne, a flash… then nothing until now.

You can’t die…!

The pain rushed in once more, and this time he felt his whole body shaking and jerking in response, the middle of his body arching up, and the Archigos was pressing him back down and shouting urgently to someone else in the room. “… whatever you can… the Ilmodo.. . Cenzi will forgive…”

The pain threatened to tear him in half, to snap him like a winter branch, but suddenly it was gone. Gone. His eyes were open, and he could see Archigos Kenne screaming at the palais healer and the woman teni in her green robes, and there were other people in the room and they were all shouting but he could hear nothing, nothing but the roar growing louder and louder. “You can’t die,” and the pain at least was gone and he wanted to lift his hand toward his great-matarh but his body still would not move and he could not even pull in his breath even though his lungs ached and he tried… and tried… and.. .