The songs of the dead echoed loud in the hall of the Long Keeper, god of death. A mournful tune, as heavy and cloying as the incense that hung thick in the temple, underscored by a shrill chorus of flutes that grated on Kodyn’s nerves. Yet he forced himself to stand still, to remain a firm bulwark for Briana to lean on as she mourned her father’s death.
Arch-Guardian Suroth, high priest of the Secret Keepers, servant of the Mistress, and member of the Keeper’s Council, lay silent and still atop the golden sandstone that dominated the center of the sanctuary. Death slackened his features and turned his umber skin to a brown as dull as the simple Secret Keeper’s robes he now wore. His strong hands rested atop his chest, a peaceful pose that belied the violent nature of his passing.
He’d fallen in defense of Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres and the rest of the Keeper’s Council. Nine Gatherers, members of the death-worshipping cult, had died at his hands before he succumbed to his wounds. Yet one look at Briana told Kodyn that her father’s courage or the heroism of his sacrifice meant next to nothing in this moment. She’d never known her mother, who had died giving birth to her. Now she had lost the most important person in her life.
And Kodyn had no idea how to comfort her.
He’d sat by her bedside as she wept, held her hand through her tears, feeling useless all the while. He couldn’t wipe the sorrow from her heart or the pain of loss from her eyes. Behind her pale features and vacant stare she fixed on the body atop the altar, she had to be wrestling against a seething ocean of emotions that he could only begin to understand. He had never felt as helpless as he did now, watching her suffer in silence.
Aisha, his companion and fellow Night Guild apprentice, stood on Briana’s other side. She held Briana’s hand, lending her strength as well. Sorrow glistened in her almond brown eyes—she hadn’t known Suroth long, but she’d become close friends with Briana over the last few days.
Now, the two of them were the closest thing Briana had to friends and family in the world.
The music fell silent as High Divinity Tinush, the oldest member of the Keeper’s Council, stepped up toward the altar. Above his head, the stone-carved face of the Long Keeper stared down at Suroth’s body. The god of death had already claimed Suroth’s soul—all that remained was to commend his flesh to the Crypts.
“Mercy, change, justice, vengeance, sorrow, joy, and eternity.” Despite his age, his voice rang out loud and strong, echoing off the sandstone walls, ceiling, and floor of the sanctuary atop the Hall of the Beyond. “These are the seven faces of the Long Keeper. Mercy, for death is just the first step toward eternal bliss in the Sleepless Lands. Change, the one inevitable constant. Justice for the deserving and vengeance against the wicked.”
Tinush bowed his head. “Sorrow, for in passing we leave behind those dearest to our heart, yet with it comes joy in finding peace and rest in the eternity of the Long Keeper’s arms.”
The hand he rested on Suroth’s pale forehead was spotted with age and tattooed with seven black dots. “Go into infinity, Suroth, secure in the knowledge that the world was a better place for your presence. May you find the peace you deserve.” With that, he bent and placed the ceremonial kiss on the dead man’s lips.
The trilling of flutes and forlorn strumming of harps filled the sanctuary chamber once more, and singers took up a funereal chant. Kodyn felt a burden of sorrow settle onto his shoulders at the doleful lyrics. He glanced toward the double doors, which stood open to reveal the lines of people crowding onto the golden sandstone steps that descended the broad stairway carved into the southern edge of the Hall of the Beyond. The golden morning sunlight failed to drive back the pall that hung over the gathered mourners.
Hundreds of Dhukari, Alqati, Zadii, and Intaji had come to see the Arch-Guardian off. For one so well-respected and revered, the funeral rituals would last hours until the early afternoon, when the Necroseti, priests of the Long Keeper, began the final journey to Suroth’s resting place. According to Nessa, Arch-Guardian Suroth’s household Steward, burial rites always took place at sunrise and sunset. The sun had already fully risen by the time the commotion in the palace after the assassination attempt had died down, so Suroth would be interred beneath the fading twilight.
That seemed an eternity away. He and Aisha had accompanied Briana just after dawn to the Hall of the Beyond, the temple to the Long Keeper, for the embalming and final blessing rites carried out by the Necroseti. She had sat beside the lifeless, pale-faced corpse that had once been the strong Secret Keeper, holding her father’s limp hand as the priests prepared him for an eternity in the Long Keeper’s arms.
Kodyn and Aisha hadn’t been allowed entrance into the private room where the body was prepared—only the family of the deceased could enter—but they’d taken up guard in front of the door. Aisha, in particular, had scrutinized every priest that entered the room. After last night’s attempt to kidnap or murder Briana—he couldn’t know which the Gatherers had intended—she took her role as the Shalandran girl’s bodyguard with the utmost severity. More than a few of the lower-ranked priests in attendance had wilted beneath her furious glare.
At the tenth hour of the morning, they’d undertaken the solemn procession up the stairs to the rooftop sanctuary, the more sacred chamber in the Hall of the Beyond. They had passed beneath the gold sandstone statue of the Long Keeper and laid Suroth’s body atop the ceremonial altar in preparation for the ceremony.
Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres had met them at the bottom of the stairs. “I owe your father my life.” Genuine sorrow had sparkled in his kohl-rimmed eyes. He’d even worn simple clothing, for a Pharus—a plain gold-threaded tunic over an ankle-length shendyt, with a narrow black mourning shawl draped about his shoulders and a finger-thick headband of solid gold, a far cry from his typically ornate headdress and conical crown. “He saved us all. I will not forget the debt I now owe him.”
They hadn’t needed to hire dancers and mourners for Suroth’s ritual journey to his final resting place in the Keeper’s Crypts—hundreds of men, women, even children from the Artisan’s Tier, Defender’s Tier, and Keeper’s Tier had turned out to accompany him. Suroth might never have spoken a word, yet it seemed they had loved him nonetheless. Well-wishers had pressed condolences and kind sentiments on Briana. She could barely bring herself to nod.
Now, as the people of Shalandra trooped into the sanctuary to bid farewell to Suroth, her red-rimmed eyes had a vacant stare, her brows hooded.
The highest-ranked men and women in Shalandra stood silent vigil around the altar. Secret Keepers in dull brown, Warrior Priests in full suits of splinted mail, even Lecterns in long green-and-silver robes. The Venerated, the council formed of a representative from each of the twelve temples, watched over their fallen brother. Keeper’s Blades armed in spiked black plate mail and carrying huge flame-bladed swords took up position at the four sides of the altar. Callista Vinaus, the Lady of Blades and commander of Shalandra’s military herself, guarded Suroth’s head.
Kodyn’s gut twisted at the black-robed priests that flanked the west side of the temple chamber. Six heavy-set men with double chins and sagging paunches occupied the front of their ranks. These Necroseti served on the Keeper’s Council. These were the men Suroth had died to protect.
And Kodyn was all but certain they had a role to play in the Arch-Guardian’s death.
