“This sewer is absurdly spacious.” Duncan poked a filthy wall with her weapon.
Cossus nodded. “The undercity grew from the early sewers and catacombs, and was continually expanded upon even as the city was remodeled and refined. Most people never see this part of Aurelion, but the passages are useful, if sometimes dangerous.”
“Lucky for us everyone is dead.”
“Some of those dangers have only become worse in death.”
“Oh. Great.”
I found it hard to concentrate on their dialogue. I nearly tripped over a gap in the walkway, and kept tuning out, lost in thought. The sewer was green and gray and cold. It was desolate, like most of the city, but somehow creepier for the lower corpse count.
At some point, Cossus asked, “So what’s Strix up to, eh? What’s her grand strategy.”
“Hmm?” I looked up from kicking a rock around. “Oh. Well, three hundred years have passed, the three of us are descendants of survivors, and Strix wants to make me Empress so she can unite the nobility and their militias against Nero. That’s the broad strokes version, at least.”
He chuckled. “Ah, Strix. Never change.”
“Yeah. Her. Pictor shared interesting details about her. Claimed you, her, and a third had a conspiracy to take power and overthrow the emperor.” I peered at him curiously. “I’m not against it, mind you. Just annoyed that Strix kept that little note a secret.”
“She does that. Even to us. If she hadn’t, this whole thing might have been averted… but we can discuss that when we get to her. I want to scold her in person. For now: yes, the three of us did work together to become Triumvirate. We initially just planned on ruling the empire from behind the throne, but Nero’s increasing insanity forced our hand.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
I tuned out again and let my friends question him. I finally discarded my pet rock and watched it clatter into the sewer pit away from the walkway.
There was something whispering. That was the sound I was hearing, the distraction that kept demanding my attention. A whisper, urgent and imploring.
Slowly, I let the others drift ahead. The whisper grew louder, and the sound less distorted. I made out a single sentence in the low cacophony.
“Follow the whispers to find your answers, Valerian.” A woman’s voice, cold and smooth.
I had no reason to trust the voice, but no reason to distrust it either. Besides, I was sick of being kept in the dark. I followed the whispers.
The insistent noises led me through twisting tunnels, down unsteady slopes and up piles of detritus to hidden passageways. The sewer was vast and labyrinthine; Cossus’s description of it as an undercity was beginning to seem accurate. That was confirmed when I stepped into catacombs.
Ossified bone, walls covered in skulls, and torches that glowed but did not burn. This was something separate from the world above, separate even from the rest of the undercity. The catacombs had a power, a prickling on my skin, a slithering cold. I had crossed the threshold into an alien domain.
The whispers ceased, and the woman’s voice spoke again. “Good, good. Welcome to the catacombs, aspirant. Allow me to introduce myself.”
A ghost glided into view. She was elegant and regal like many a noble, but there was an edge to her, a sharpness that infused every aspect of her being with danger… and hunger. Her cloak clung to her frame too closely, her eyes gleamed too brightly, and her colors bled. The other ghosts were pale, ethereal. They looked frail and distant, even the more aware like Strix and Cossus.
This ghost looked strong. More real than real. As if I could just reach out and touch her. Her sleek armor reflected blue torchlight, and her cat’s grin was as white as physical bone. Whiter, even. Fresh.
Her hair was stringy, her fingers spider-like, her face almost skeletal. And yet she looked healthy. Her appearance was a paradox, one that was unsettling to look at.
She said, “My name is Caligula. I am a warlock, and I have seen few as full of potential as you, aspirant.”
“Name’s Valerian.”
“Oh, yes. Valerian. The next empress, I hear told. Is that your destiny, warlock?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. I’m starting to think I haven’t figured out my destiny yet. It’s nice to have options, you know? We’ll see where this empire thing takes me.”
Caligula chuckled. “Of course, of course. But I don’t think all your options have been laid on the table. Strix likes to do that, as you’ve no doubt noticed. She hides things. Deceives. She’s very… manipulative, that one. Useful, obviously. But dangerous.”
“I’ve noticed. But don’t play coy, Cali. What are you trying to sell me?”
“Nothing. Yet. There are still things for Strix to teach you. You are close, but you are not ready to learn my knowledge. No, for now I simply offer an alternative view.”
Her dangling of information irritated me, but I let it pass. “View of what?”
“The court. The nobles. Petty politics.” Her voice dripped with disdain. “The worthless fops that Strix is having you fawn over and impress. She tells you that they are the key, the heart of the matter. I disagree. They are worthless. Children prattling about, playing with toys they don’t understand. Mimicking what those greater than they can do. I respect much about ancient Aurelius, but I shall always disagree with her uplifting of friends and allies.”
I frowned. “Tell me of that. I know little of my history.”
“There is little to tell. In the dawn of the empire, a warlock named Aurelius took power. She forged an empire, and gave positions of so-called importance to those who had supported her. The first Lords. Even then the word had little meaning.” She spat. “The Lords of empire prefer their balls and games and toy soldier armies to the true power of the kindred. They consider our birthright convenient, amusing. They squander magic.”
“Nero has an army too. Hard to take it down without some forces of our own.”
Hidden knowledge glittered in Caligula’s eyes, but she said, “This I acknowledge. For now. However, I find Strix’s method of building this army to be weak and pathetic. She would have you deal with these Lords diplomatically. Days, weeks of envoys, dinners, wooing them with charm and camaraderie. And yet, did diplomacy gain you Cossus? No. Power did. Violence.”
I was starting to get the picture. “You think I should be taking, not asking.”
“Want, take, have. It is our oldest nature. Impose your will on the nobility, cow them, intimidate them, and they will fall in line. Empires are forged with force of arm and strength of mind, not ballroom prattling. You are a conqueror, Valerian. Do not let Strix push you away from your heritage.”
“I won’t. But we’re still outnumbered. A little cloak and dagger might be necessary, at least until the deck isn’t stacked against us. Nero has an army.”
“You have magic. You have a loyal servant. And you have presence, which is more important than charm. Sway the nobility to your will, show them your power, show them that you do not fear their emperor, and they will flock to you, empower you. Give the word, and they will throw their bodies upon the spikes of Nero’s palace.”
I had to admit, the imagery was tempting. And despite her disdain for conventional diplomacy, Caligula clearly knew how to be persuasive. I couldn’t deny my frustration with Strix’s methods, her focus on the long term. We didn’t have weeks to pull this off, just days. We couldn’t afford to have a sleepover every time we needed to deal with a Lord.
I shrugged. “I’ll consider it. The direct approach is close to my heart, after all.” I paused. “Should I tell Strix you said hi? Or do you two have bad history? I get the feeling it’s that second one.”
Caligula smiled again. “Complicated history, certainly. No, best to leave me out of it, for now. No need to distract her with pointless worrying. Thank you for being reasonable, Valerian. You and I are going to do great things together.”
I smirked. “Here’s hoping. See you around, Cali.”
A trail of whispers led me out of the catacombs and through the sewers to where my friends were frantically searching for me. I waved.
“Hey. Miss me?”
They rushed over (well, Cossus meandered) and Finn barraged me with questions. “What happened? Where did you go? Why are you smirking?”
I rolled my shoulders. “Taking a walk. Sorry about that. We good to keep going?”
It was probably obvious I was hiding something, but they all tentatively accepted my bullshit explanation and we kept walking. Maybe they were just anxious to leave the sewers behind. Cossus definitely shot me a few curious glances, but not suspiciously. My secret (such as it seemed) was safe.
What followed was more idle banter. Duncan and Finn had dozens of questions for Cossus about imperial life, now that we were in safe straits and able to ask real questions and get non-bullshit answers. Cossus filled them in as he could about funerary rites, daily entertainment, literature of the time, and courtly politics. I tried to follow along, I really did, but it was still all just meaningless gibberish.
I didn’t care that Sekoni had sank twelve ships trying to win the heart of Barovo, nor did I find it interesting how the empire’s architectural style had changed over the years as it blended the individual cultures of the home world.
Well, some of it was interesting.
“Our world is called Hearth. There are others out there, dozens. Vortex, Pinnacle, Avalanche. We tend to give them simple names for ease of documentation. Each world is different. Our world is an ocean world, really. We’ve seen endless deserts, wild jungles, and storm-tossed rocks drifting in a gas cloud.”
“The Gates were the key, right?” asked Finn.
“Precisely. Through them, we explored the cosmos. We conquered savage worlds and brought the light of civilization.”
Duncan said, “And you enslaved people.”
Cossus frowned. “Is that how history has written it? A shame. I assure you, the truth is more complex.”
“Really? Please, do tell.” She side-eyed him.
“The kine were mongrels before we found them. They had no technology, no culture. A less charitable empire might have seen them for mere animals and butchered them, but we were gracious. We offered those we found a chance to become something more, to rise out of their squalor and live in golden cities. We offered them enlightenment, and a future where one day they might stand side by side with us. I think that’s worth a bit of labor, don’t you?”
Duncan was blunt. “No, I don’t. I don’t think that’s true, either.”
Cossus shrugged. “You may believe what you wish. It hardly matters now that the kine are dead, and have left behind no ghosts. They are gone, and the kindred are left. Perhaps extermination was their destiny after all.”
Duncan flinched at the word ‘destiny’. “I thought educated kindred didn’t believe in prophecy and fortune telling.”
“Ah, but there are many forms of destiny. Some mystical, certainly, some more scientific. A group of imperial scholars once theorized that the kine were doomed to stagnation and degeneracy that would wipe them out as surely as any military effort. Biology can be destiny. Sometimes destiny is not about the decree of the stars, but rather about the choices we make, and the cut of our cloth.”
Duncan looked more uneasy.
“Let me tell you of something we called predestination. Predestination says that every action you take is the action you were always going to take. If you choose to kill someone, that choice was set in stone the second you were born, and earlier. Every choice you make is the result of every choice you have made, and those were born of the choices of others.”
“But… wait. That form of destiny is divorced from morality, from meaning. You’re saying that, in that form of destiny, nothing means anything. We have no free will, no power to change. Nothing is meant to happen, it simply happens because other things happened first. We are just cogs in a machine.”
“Ah, but are we? If you feel love or hatred towards someone, is that feeling artificial just because you can name all the places it came from? Love is chemical, but does that make it less real?”
Duncan was very quiet at that. She looked at me, and this time I looked away first.
Cossus smiled at us. “Forgive me. My fellow Consuls and I argued far too much about philosophy, I’m afraid it has developed into a habit. Do not let me discount your beliefs, such as they are. I simply wish to express my own perspective and offer a defense of my peers. An action may be interpreted as malicious, but it may not always come from malice.”
Duncan nodded slowly, but it didn’t seem very assured.
Cossus looked to me. “How about you, Valerian? Do you have some insight to the argument?”
I shrugged. “Not really. It’s not something I think too much about it.”
He pressed me. “Surely you must have some opinion on it. What do you believe destiny is?”
Duncan and Finn were looking at me, and they were all waiting for an answer. With a sigh, I turned my thoughts inward and went over the question. What did destiny mean to me? The term was used so often back home, but I never kept up with all the chantry’s teachings. Destiny only had meaning in context of the prophecy, of the chosen one. Of me.
Maybe that was the answer. Maybe that was what destiny meant.
I said, “Destiny is what you’re owed. Your birthright. Destiny is knowing that you are meant for something, that you are important. That in the grand scheme of things you matter.”
Cossus raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting that everyone matters, in the end? That there is a reward or punishment out there for all beings? I suppose everyone is important in their own story.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m saying not everyone has a destiny.”
Cossus seemed to find that answer very interesting. Duncan looked more disturbed than anything else, and I couldn’t tell the expression on Finn’s face. We kept walking.
We reached an exit and emerged into the city, in a shadowed alley. Cossus winced, and grew frailer, but could still walk.
I was curious about that. “How are you and Strix so much better at resisting sunlight?”
“We prepared. Our ghosts are whole, and retain our strength. It is… difficult, to be out in this light, and I cannot do it for long, but it is possible. Let us hurry.”
We returned to Asellio’s estate for our rendezvous with Strix.