‘What will this world be, I wondered, if the sun were truly restored on the morrow?
‘What if it has all been worth it?
‘God Almighty, I couldn’t even remember the colour the sky had been …
‘I walked into the forbidden section, my old boots heavy on the creaking timbers. I navigated the dusty shelves, the books and scrolls and strange curios. I remembered the scent of blood hanging in the air the first night I came here, half-expecting to see my love as I rounded the corner to the room we’d first spoke, first kissed, first sinned. But it was empty, of course – empty save for the long table we’d once sat at years ago, looking into each other’s eyes and welcoming the fall that awaited us both.
‘I looked at the tome laid out on the table, thicker than my thigh, trimmed in tarnished brass. It was so old the leather had been bleached grey, the vellum turned brown with countless years. The book was near falling to pieces, but the lettering was still visible, faint and faded, oui, but still there. This, too, was a strange immortality, I realized. Poems, stories, ideas, frozen forever in time. The simple wonder of books.
‘I ran my fingertip just above the page’s surface, a breath shy of the spidery lettering. I could read not a word of it save one.
‘Aavsunc.
‘I remembered Rafa explaining the word’s meaning to me in Winfael: Old Talhostic for essence. The essence caught by the First Martyr in her womb. The birthright Dior now carried in her veins. The blood of the Redeemer himself.
‘From holy cup comes holy light;
‘The faithful hand sets world aright.
‘And in the Seven Martyrs’ sight …
‘“Mere man shall end this endless night,” I murmured.
‘The bells rang to end the duskmass, and I wondered about Dior. She’d eat in the refectory maybe, or perhaps the Priory. And though there was no safer place for her in all the empire than upon the holy ground of San Michon, though she’d proven more than capable of looking after herself, I was ill at ease at not having seen her for a time.
‘I left the Library, intent on the Priory. But I found my feet dragging me towards that great spire of granite and stained glass in the monastery’s heart. I walked past the fountain of angels – Chiara and Raphael, Sanael and my namesake, Gabriel – through the dawndoors, and into the belly of San Michon Cathedral. Trudging up the aisle, emptying the last of the vodka into my belly, I found myself before the altar. The place Astrid had scribed the aegis into my skin, where I’d sworn the vows we’d broken. I stared up at the Redeemer on his wheel, my fingertips drumming Ashdrinker’s hilt. I let the bottle fall from my hand and roll along the stone at my feet.
‘“Still no brother of mine, bastard,” I said. “But I hope your blood rings true.”
‘“How is Astrid?”
‘I turned at the voice, saw Greyhand climbing the spiral stairs from the sacristy beneath the altar. It was his duty as abbot to speak the mass, of course – he must have been down there changing out of his robes. He was back in silversaint garb now, his eye flooded red from the sacrament the brethren all took at services, the gouge Laure Voss had torn through his empty socket covered by a patch of black leather.
‘“S?ur Sauvage told me you two had wed?”
‘I looked at my old master, tongue thick in my mouth. “What of it?”
‘“She said you had a daughter. Patience?” Greyhand shook his head, fixing me with his one good eye. “Thank God and Mothermaid for the small mercy she was not a son, I suppose. To bring another paleblood into this world—”
‘“Spare me the sermon, Abbot. I’m not drunk enough for it.”
‘He sucked his teeth, nodded slow. “So how is she? Your beautiful wife?”
‘“I didn’t think you cared, old man.”
‘“Astrid Rennier was Mistress of the Aegis in San Michon for five years, Gabriel. I knew her well as any, and better than most. Of course I care.”
‘“Care so much you cast us out into the cold without a thought?”
‘“I had thoughts aplenty,” he said, eye flashing. “First among them being that you both knew what you did was wrong, and yet you did it anyway. Second, that you lied to me with every breath you could muster after the night you took her into your bed. And last, that I had been a fool to place the trust in you I did. I thought the years between then and now might have cooled your head on the matter. But I see that was vain fantasy.” He looked me up and down, shook his head. “You are as you ever were.”
‘“What should I have done, then? Forgive? Forget? Fuck that. And fuck you. You turned your backs on us. After all we did.”
‘“I told you once and I’ll tell you again,” Greyhand said. ‘It’s a fool who plays at the precipice, but only the prince of fools blames another when he falls. You cost us dear when you walked out those doors, Gabriel. The war has been going ill ever since, and our numbers dwindle by the year. Theo Petit, Philippe Olen, Philippe Clément, Alonso de Madeisa, Fabro—”
‘“There’s a reason I didn’t attend mass tonight. Don’t preach at me. And don’t you dare try to paint me with their blood. That’s on your hands, not mine.”
‘“And when was the last time you did attend mass, Gabriel?”
‘I blinked, frowning. “What year is this again?”
‘“’Tis true, then, what Chloe said. Faithless as the blood that flows in your veins.” He glanced at the empty bottle at my feet. “You could’ve been the greatest of us …”
‘“I was the greatest of you.”
‘“Was,” he snapped, fire in his pale green eye. “And now? An oathbreaker. A drunkard. Ever you lacked the humility to think beyond your own desires. To put aside your pride and do what truly needed to be done. I once told you that you had the telling of your own story. That you could choose what kind it might be. And this was your choice.” He shook his head again. “God, what a disappointment you are.”
‘“I gave my life for this empire!” I roared. “And I’m still giving it! I dragged that girl halfway across hell to these walls, and still you give me no credit!”
‘“And yet still you seek it, as you always have!” We were nose to nose now, the bitterness of resentment that had festered over long years rushing forth, like poison from a wound. “Even now you dare to speak of sacrifice when that girl shall pay a thousand times the sum of your own on the morrow! She shall be the one to spill her blood in the name of this empire, not you!”
‘The Cathedral rang with Greyhand’s words, like the echo of a wheellock shot.
‘“… What did you say?”
‘Greyhand lowered his gaze, teeth bared.
‘“What the fuck did you just say?” I demanded again.
‘“Too much,” the abbot growled, turning away. “I’ll speak no more of it.”
‘I grabbed his arm, incredulous. “You’re going to …”
‘Greyhand snatched his arm free, a dangerous glint in his bloodshot eye. “Get your hands off me, Gabriel.”