The Arbiter Unforgiven

Chapter Twelve, Part C - Saiph

Saiph and Mirrah are not going to find pretty things here. Why couldn't their be a fluffy baby bunny and a sparkly diamond? Well, here is to the grim reality... --Elizabeth

Saiph smiled. "You always were. I remember the girl who would jump out of windows and run across meadows barefoot to make wreaths of flowers and tempt me to abandon my chores to come dance. It's nice to see it again."

"I wish I thought flowers were the only thing we'd find down there." Mirrah pushed a few strands of hair away from her forehead as she lend I can't see anything, is there even a floor? Can you lower me down?"
"Down?" Saiph grimaced and looked over her head and into the shadows. "Yeah, there is a floor there. I can see the broken tile. How hard did you hit that, anyway? Swing on my hands. That's it. Prepare yourself. One. Two." He let her go and watched her land, as nimbly as a cat on the hidden chamber beneath. She landed with a little gasp and a cloud of dust. Her skin made her glow like a little star in the dark. Saiph looked around, spied a lamp on a table and picked it up. "Here, catch carefully."

The little flint and lighter was in a drawer and he picked that up too. Sliding over the edge of the hole he dropped down to join her.

He landed with a great deal less grace than she had, the impact buckled his knees and he was forced to roll. Once he was sure he hadn't broken his knees he looked up to see his wife calmly lighting the lamp.

Before he could open his mouth, she held up the light. "You know, I think it's disturbing how often lately we've been forced to walk underground. Anyone who doesn't know me might start to think that I enjoy it. I'd like to state for the record, right now that I categorically do not."

"Well, at least we found where all the iron went...look at this place."

The room that they had fallen into was part of a very wide landing, there were stairs spiraling down and up...there must be a proper entrance elsewhere in the house. The roof was supported by huge arches of iron soldered together to form a dozen ribs that met in the middle over a round hole.

"This looks familiar, doesn't it?"

"They built the garrison over another sunken tower? This is just like the one in the hollow. Why would they... does this mean that there used to be a sky ship housed here as well? It must be. The ancients may have had more ships than I thought."

Saiph rubbed his eyes. "An Icon covered this up for a reason. Let's go see what it was."

Round and round they went. This tower seemed like a match to the other in almost every way. There were windows and rooms, cut off from the light from eons, but they were there. On the walls, at regular intervals, there were round disks, that, when polished, would catch the sun and shine it into the rooms. At the very bottom, there was a pool.

"That's not water."

"What have we been living over?" Saiph frowned and sniffed. "Blood, certainly. I don't know how it's been kept from drying."

"Abomination. Who would use what is sacred this way?"

"I can think of..."

"I mean who in Waterwall would use something like this?"

Saiph fell silent. "You know, the most likely suspect is my mother. She would have the means to find this place, the opportunity to do so, and the knowledge to operate whatever this is."

"But no motive. She wanted to hide in Waterwall. She wanted to get away from this, I believe her when she said so. They Icons can read the past in water. The scrying pool at the bottom of my Tower is supposed to offer glimpses to guide an Icon in making decisions that prove troublesome."

"What would blood be good for?"

"Nothing! At least, not as far as reading the future goes. You could probably make a great working with this sacrifice though. If someone wanted to do something rather large."

"Like fuel a sky ship?"
"Smaller than that. Ru'a had to use almost all the resources of the Red City and some dark water to get that ship to fly. Even then she had to have the correct language to operate the bloody thing. What were they up to?"

A door slammed and Saiph whirled around, half drawing his sword. A curling mote of dust indicated which door and he headed for it without pausing to think.

Mirrah bounded right at his heels, and they reached the heavy looking door at the same time.

Inside where several huddled figures. At first, Saiph thought the room was darker because he could not make out their features. Then, he saw that they were swathed from head to toe in veils.

"What's happened? Is the Arbiter...Abashai among you?"

One of the heads shook and they all seemed to shrink farther into the corner.

"Please, let us help you. What are you doing down here? Why did you have these?" Mirrah held out the now much-crumpled pages.

Saiph wondered who was here, and who was burned above. Perhaps Abashai...

"I...am here...Icon."

His voice was almost unrecognizable. The pompous lilt was gone, but the low timbre and carefully spaced words were still there.

"What's happened to you?"

"Sick."

Saiph put an arm between Mirrah and the man. "Tell me you can't infect her. Or I burn what's left of you with your friends."

"Not. That kind. Of illness."

"Why did Serreh send you here?" Saiph demanded.

"We agreed. Change had to happen." His gloved hands rubbed together. It looked as though he had used rags to bind his fingers. "I'm sorry. Sorry for everything. We needed to know. How. How to make another." He started to heave then. A wet sound that set Saiph's teeth on edge. It took him a moment to realize that the man was sobbing not coughing up a lung. "Serreh and I agreed. Waterwall. Can. Not Function. Without an Icon."

"Was it you then? Was it you that lured that poor girl in the woods?"

"She came. Willingly."

"You tricked her. Abashai how could you?"

"Did it before...with you. Tricked you."

Saiph felt a stab of ice form in his heart.

"This is all we'll need to depose the... Arbiter, well, Serreh. Saints preserve us. This is all I need to order her execution."