RED
There was no night on Ptallaya!
The top edge of the gargantuan sun, a hellish inferno, erupted over the edge of the world. Inside the room, everything turned a vermillion hue. Outside, the landscape transformed.
I drew an unsteady breath. “What’s happening?”
Father Mordant Reverie gestured toward the mounted lens and said, “Use that.”
I reached for it and pulled the frame to the window. Magnified through the glass, I could see in better detail that the land beyond the city was undergoing a startling metamorphosis. The leaves of the various trees were turning black; thorny weed-like growths—also black—were coiling up from under the ground; and clawed, armoured, dangerous-looking creatures, some like spiny lobsters, others incomprehensible jumbles of jagged-edged limbs, were digging themselves out of burrows. The three Yarkeen changed in a matter of seconds from transparent to jet, and their long tentacles sprouted nasty-looking barbs.
“That which may not be spoken of in the sight of the Saviour is now upon us,” Reverie said. His mask suddenly bulged outward. Reaching up, he removed it. The lumps over his eyes were lengthening and thickening. I watched as they rapidly grew into horns, curling upward until their pointed tips were almost directed backward. At the same time, his body colour divided into stripes, some deepening to black, the others brightening to yellow, until his carapace had taken on the appearance of a tiger.
I glanced at Clarissa and was thankful to see that her forehead bumps were unaltered, her skin the same.
Reverie jerked his head toward the curved band of red fire and continued, “The Heart of Blood is rising, and soon its gods will come to Ptallaya.”
“Gods? Do they threaten us?” I asked, thinking of the City Guard and the defensive wall.
“They do. Now I am free to tell you the truth of this world. Once, long ago, Ptallaya was as you see it now and had been that way for all its existence: a place of savagery and conflict ruled over by the wicked creatures we call Blood Gods. Then the Saviour’s Eyes opened and looked upon it and found there was nothing pleasing to see, until, eventually, the Yatsill wandered into sight and were judged to be good. So the Saviour cast the Blood Gods out and made the Yatsill the new rulers of Ptallaya. However, the Heart of Blood itself could not be supplanted, so a balance was established. When the Saviour’s Eyes are open, the world is ours. We journey to the Forest of Indistinct Murmurings to recover the Servants who are delivered here from your world and to milk Dar’sayn from the fruit of the Ptoollan trees that our Magicians might be strong; and we take our children to the Cavern of Immersion to be made Aristocrats or Working Class. But when the Saviour’s Eyes close, the jealous Blood Gods return to Ptallaya. They possess the Aristocrats and attack Phenadoor—for they want to destroy it.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because Phenadoor is good and the Blood Gods are evil.” Reverie sighed and his eyes glittered. “Father Yissil Froon is fearful. He says there are now too many Workers and too few Aristocrats. The Magicians will take Dar’sayn to strengthen their protective powers but our supply isn’t sufficient for the challenge we face. Besides which, many Magicians are stricken with illness.”
“Father Reverie,” I interrupted, “Miss Stark and I were with Colonel Momentous Spearjab’s party during the journey to the Shrouded Mountains. He collected a great deal of Dar’sayn from the Forest of Indistinct Murmurings—surely it hasn’t been used up already?”
“It has been mislaid.”
“Mislaid? How?”
“I do not know.”
“Might it have been stolen?”
“Yes, that is possible, though I do not understand who would do such a thing, or why.”
My eyes met Clarissa’s and I saw she was thinking the same as me—our enemy had made another move.
“It is a calamity,” Father Reverie said. “When the Blood Gods come, it will be more difficult to resist them.” He raised his hands and examined them. They were shaking. “I feel that even I will be taken this time.”
Clarissa made to speak but Reverie stopped her with a curt gesture. “Yissil Froon is my most valued counsellor but he has already secluded himself in order to meditate. Even if I knew where he was, he’d be in too deep a contemplation to respond to my presence. I have no recourse, then, but to trust my own instincts. I’m of the opinion that your research into the affliction that has befallen us is of crucial importance. If you do not find