Page 11 of The Surviving Sky
Bharavi grabbed Iravan’s arm and pulled him away from the nearest architects, back into the recesses of the rudra tree. “I notice you didn’t defend Ahilya.”
“She’s a grown woman. She’s making her choices. She doesn’t need me to defend her from hersisterof all people.”
“You fought with her, didn’t you? That’s what this is about.” Iravan jerked his arm away. “Shefought with me, and I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re going to say next. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Don’t be childish. You know you need to fix it.”
“I did. I gave her the council’s permission to go. I even gave her a Junior Architect so she has someone to traject the jungle for her.”
“That’s hardly the same as making things right, Iravan.”
“What else do you want me to do, Bharavi? Force my presence on her? She had a chance to come visit. She was there, standing right next to Tariya. Isn’t it clear? She doesn’t want to see me.”
“You had a chance to go to her too. Did you? Even once during the seven-month flight?”
Iravan glanced away from her knowing gaze. “I was angry.”
“What could she have done to make you this angry?”
He didn’t answer. Each time he had thought to leave the temple, each time he had connected his citizen ring to reply to Ahilya’s message, broken images from their last encounter had reignited his coldfury—Ahilyaaccusing him of secrets, Ahilya questioning his intent for fatherhood, Ahilyaneverunderstanding what the pressures of being a Senior Architect were. She had been right to fear the change his promotion had brought. Hehadchanged, but it hadn’t been wrong, had it? It had been necessary; he’d grown, he’d evolved, he’d kept the difficult secrets of hisposition—alone,without her support.
Bharavi read his silence correctly. “She didn’t doanything? Rages,sevenmonths, Iravan. You know she can’t come to the temple during a flight, not without permission. It was your move to make. What kind of a sign are you sending her by not going to her at all?”
“Let it go, Bharavi,” he growled. “This has always been our dynamic. Ahilya and I aren’t like you and Tariya. We don’t need to talk to each other every hour of every day.”
“Are you serious? The subtleties of your marriage don’t concern me, but something is wrong, so don’t you dare try that. If you haven’t seen Ahilya at all, maybe we need to begin vigilance again.”
Iravan scowled. Senior Architects were not above the rules that Maze Architects obeyed, but both Iravan and Bharavi had lapsed into ignoring the vigilance they usually kept over each other’s material bonds. For seven months, Iravan had logged his whereabouts in the most general terms, and Bharavi had attested it without looking too closely, just like he had attested hers, a sign of trust in each other and their positions. But as she crossed her arms over her chest now, her stance unmoving, he knew she was not joking about making him account for his every step again as though he were a Maze Architect.
He forced his features into calm. “It’s not that serious. You’re reading toomuch—”
“Am I?” Bharavi said. “I don’t think so. I’m seeing a pattern. You’ve been in the temple all during the earthrage. You signed up for extra watchpost duty. You’re clearly avoiding your wife. And even though you’re not on the Disc anymore,you are still trajecting.”
Iravan glanced at his arms. His skin gleamed as vines grew on it in a simple twining parallax. He had been interlocking more jasmine within hishome—forAhilya, he thoughtpathetically—justas he had in the entryway to the temple, for all the good it haddone—butat Bharavi’s words, Iravan collapsed the constellation lines and stopped trajecting. The blue-green tattoos on his arms receded.
“Very good,” Bharavi said. “Now leave the Moment.”
Iravan drew himself up to his full height. “You can’t order me about, Bha.”
“Consider it a professional suggestion, then. Leave the Moment.”
Her voice brooked no argument. Equals though they were now, old habits died hard. Iravan let his second vision collapse. The blue-green glow under his skin disappeared. He blinked, now fully in the bustling courtyard. The floating sensation in his belly vanished as soon as he retreated from the Moment, and sudden exhaustion crashed into him, filling his limbs with dead weight.
“If I were running risks,” Bharavi said in a hard voice, “I wouldn’t do it in the temple, where the rest of the council is probably watching.”
“What are you implying?”
“Would you like me to spell it out?” She closed the distance between them and poked a finger into his chest, stabbing him with every sentence. “It’s dangerous for an architect to traject without a break, lest they lose touch with the material world. If they lose touch with the material world, they lose control over themselves. If they lose control over themselves, they begin to destroy architecture in the Moment instead of building it. They become an Ecstatic.”
“Bha, I’m notbecoming—”
“If the councilsuspectsan architect of Ecstasy,” she went on, speaking over him, “it can demand they take an Exam.”
“Thatwon’t—”
“If an architect fails the Exam,” Bharavi continued, her words a low snarl, her finger pressing his rudra beads into his chest over his kurta, “they are excised.”
The word hung between them, dark, dangerous, malevolent.
