Among the Hollow by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub

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Atop the hill across from the colossal domed temple of wisdom, the Komateros palace sprawled. Light flooded the marble archways, illuminating the silhouettes of guards stationed at every corner like a fortress. No less than twenty of Cosmas’ men flanked the front entrance alone, turning aside any who did not bear a name of worth or a writ of admittance. When Aurel and Sevila drew up to the gate, Sevila did not pull a piece of parchment from a fold in her clothes — as many others did. She simply gave a guard her name, and he stood aside to let them pass up the walkway towards the main hall.

“How did you know that would work?” Aurel muttered, straightening their new court clothes — long robes all in gleaming white — and fidgeted with the mask in their hands.

“I didn’t.” Resplendent in her own finery, gold-trimmed silks dyed to the hue of a desert sunset, Sevila snapped her ring-bright fingers at Aurel. “And put on your mask. You can’t be seen on the premises without it.”

Waving the mask at her, Aurel said, “It doesn’t have any straps to hold it in place.”

With an exasperated roll of her eyes, she sighed, “You don’t need them. Honestly, you are a disaster.”

Before they could cross the threshold into the main entrance, Sevila pulled Aurel aside, tugging them into a dim corner by the edge of their white robes. She gestured for them to bend down and hand the mask over to her. Crouching so she could reach their face, Aurel closed their eyes as Sevila fixed the mask in place.

“Why don’t you have a mask?” Aurel asked.

“Only the dead wear masks to funerary rites,” Sevila replied. “And seeing as I can’t have everyone knowing I’m actually dead, that rule only applies to spirits.” There followed a pause, then she said, “You can stand up now.”

Straightening, Aurel blinked down at her. The edges of their vision were boxed in by the lines of carved ivory, the mask smooth and simple with only a red painted crescent on their brow, the crescent turned on its side so that its points were directed up like curved horns. Aurel’s presence crowned the mask like streamers of black smoke or ink that wafted through the air. “How does it look?”

“Very gloomy and sepulchral. It suits you,” Sevila said with a satisfied nod before gesturing for Aurel to follow. “Come along. We’re already well past fashionably late.”

The moment they entered the main hall, Aurel’s footsteps slowed. High above and far beyond the ceiling stretched overhead, great vaults brightened by coal-fed braziers, and covered with gold-painted mosaics, in which gods and men intermingled. Pillars cut twin swathes through the space, dividing the crowded room filled with vast numbers of family members all gathered together in their finest reds and bold saffrons and not a thread of white. A number of people paused in their conversation to stare as Sevila and Aurel passed by, and — feeling self-conscious beside an elegant

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