The Way of Light

by Storm Constantine

  ‘I was unsure. Merlan Leckery and Maycarpe were the ones who believed in Palindrake.’

  ‘Maycarpe? Darris Maycarpe, governor of Mewt?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Tatrini sat down again, took Tayven’s limp hands in her own, shook them. ‘Does Maycarpe conspire against the crown, the Fire Chamber? You must tell me, Tayven.’

  ‘I cannot help but tell you. My words belong to you. They are no longer mine. Maycarpe has dreams, but I could not see how they could become reality. He fears Gastern’s rule. He wants change. Palindrake has the power of the sea dragons and the might of his heritage behind him. Maycarpe believes him to be a natural king. I do not think Palindrake would agree. He would not talk to me about it.’

  ‘You’ve seen him recently?’ Tatrini asked, letting go of Tayven’s hands.

  ‘Yes. He came for me last night, because he needed help to find his wife and daughter. I would have helped him, but then your men came and Sanchis would not let him take me.’

  ‘But you have spoken to him about the concept of the True King?’

  ‘Yes, on a previous visit. He was not interested in knowing about it. He swears allegiance to Gastern, as he and his father swore allegiance to Leonid. The Palindrakes are slaves of the Malagashes. This is why Maycarpe’s desire is but a dream.’

  Tatrini was relieved Valraven was not involved in any treasonous scheme, but it had not occurred to her that some people might regard him as a possible rival to her sons. It made sense, however. The Palindrakes were a legendary family: suitable, charismatic figureheads for any conspiracy against the empire.

  ‘Who do you serve, Tayven?’ Tatrini asked. ‘Is there a king of your heart?’

  Tayven hesitated, and Tatrini saw cunning in his eyes. The philtre’s effects must be fading. Now, after revealing so much, he sought to lie.

  ‘Answer me.’

  ‘In this world, there is no king. I do not serve the emperor’s line. I serve no one.’

  Tatrini examined him for some moments. Perhaps this was exactly the answer she was looking for. She must not make the mistake that others made of sticking to one course of action. Strength came from flexibility, from creativity. ‘But you want change, don’t you?’

  ‘I did. Now I wonder whether it is possible.’

  ‘Oh, it is,’ Tatrini said softly. ‘I shall make it so. Will you work with me willingly to achieve it?’

  ‘Willingly, no, but I have no choice but to work with you. You can fill me with potions that restrict my autonomy. How can I refuse you?’

  ‘You might not believe me, but I would prefer not to do that.’

  Tayven merely shrugged. ‘I am here,’ he said. ‘If you do not drug me, I will attempt to escape. You will have to kill me.’

  Tatrini sighed heavily. ‘I would so much prefer our relationship to be easy, for we are to have a relationship, Tayven. And you must overcome your prejudices. I will tell you now the names of the other three I have chosen: Valraven, who is Palindrake’s son, Leo, one of my sons and also Bayard, with whom, of course, you have an unfortunate history.’

  ‘Good,’ said Tayven.

  Tatrini eyed him suspiciously. ‘Good? I do not like this word coming from your mouth. Don’t think you’ll have the opportunity to avenge yourself on Bayard, Tayven. If necessary, I will poison you with potions to prevent it.’

  ‘As you poisoned your husband?’

  Tatrini smiled gently. ‘It seems another dose is in order.’ She went to the door and called, ‘Master Dark!’

  Her man was in the passageway outside. He’d been conversing with her personal guards who were stationed beyond the door. ‘Dark, administer to my guest a measure of Lord Pimalder’s excellent tonic.’

  Dark bowed and made to enter the room.

  ‘A moment,’ said Tatrini, ‘where is Prince Bayard?’

  ‘Awaiting your word nearby, your mightiness.’

  ‘Do your work, then summon him,’ said Tatrini.

  She watched as Dark forced the philtre between Tayven’s lips. There was a struggle, but only a minor one. As Dark flowed out of the room like a column of black mist, Tayven slumped panting in his seat, his pale hair falling in damp rats’ tails onto his chest. Tatrini could see why he’d caused so much trouble in his life. She believed that true beauty was essentially fuelled by evil. Almorante had loved him, as had Bayard, in his peculiar way, and also Khaster Leckery. Now, it appeared, Valraven Palindrake had been visiting Tayven in his captivity. Was this another lovelorn victim? If Bayard possessed half of Tayven’s essence, he would be an indomitable force, but that perhaps was not a desirable circumstance.

  ‘We are more alike than you think,’ she said.

  Tayven tried to shake his head, either to clear it or to deny her statement, but his muscles would not obey his will. He trembled violently, as if in the throes of a fit. Tatrini watched him, waiting for the sound of footsteps outside the room. She saw him struggle against the effects of the philtre. She saw his fury and frustration, which distorted his face into an ugly mask, proof of the demon that lay within the flesh. Bayard had, in effect, created this visible monster. But for the regrettable incident in Cos, Tayven might still be pretending to be modest and demure. No, surely not. He was wiser than that. In a beautiful boy, those characteristics were charming, but in a man, they would be only foppish and weak. She wondered how Tayven would have reinvented himself, left to his own devices.

  Lost in this reverie, Tatrini did not notice that Dark had returned until he stood at the threshold. She turned and saw Bayard standing behind her manservant. ‘You look anxious, my son,’ she said. ‘Please, come in.’

  Bayard swallowed convulsively and stepped into the room, while Dark closed the door upon them.

  Tatrini realised, with some wonder, that Bayard was afraid. This would be the first time he had laid eyes on Tayven Hirantel since he’d ordered his lackeys to kill him.

  ‘There,’ said Tatrini, pointing at Tayven, ‘sits your nemesis.’

  Bayard uttered an unconvincing nervous laugh, wiped his fingers over his mouth. ‘He looks mindless.’

  ‘Mmm, his condition is for your benefit. He would like to kill you, and I do not blame him. You must make amends, Bayard. Hirantel is important to us.’

  Bayard glanced at his mother. ‘Amends? How? I doubt he’ll allow it.’ He stepped closer to Tayven, his movements slow and cautious. His shadow was thrown over the hard narrow bed against the wall. ‘I can’t believe it’s really him, that he survived.’ He turned round. ‘Mother, what I did was expedient. Hirantel was plotting with Almorante against me. You should not have sympathy with him.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t deny he is a snake,’ said Tatrini, ‘but you made a gross mistake. I sympathise with him because he is stronger and wiser than you are. If you’d had any sense, you’d have cut his throat yourself, and not left your cronies to do it. You were foolish not to realise what Tayven was. He could not be eradicated so easily, which, for my purposes, is a blessing.’

  Tentatively, Bayard reached out and grabbed a fistful of Tayven’s hair, raised his head. ‘The same, yet not,’ he said, his voice full of emotion.

  ‘You have never liked being denied,’ Tatrini said. ‘You always want your own way, and might have had it all those years ago, but for Khaster Leckery. Tayven spurned you, and for that you wanted to kill him.’

  ‘It was not so simple,’ Bayard said. He looked shifty, clearly wondering how much his mother knew of what had transpired in the past.

  ‘We will perform the first ritual two nights hence,’ Tatrini said. ‘You must be ready.’

  ‘I’ve been ready for a long time.’

  ‘There is a difference between desire and preparation. I will leave you now.’

  Bayard stepped towards her. ‘I will come with you.’

  ‘No,’ said Tatrini. ‘Stay here a while. The philtre is potent. You are quite safe.’

  Bayard eyed his mother suspiciously. �
��What action do you expect of me?’

  ‘That of your nature,’ Tatrini replied. ‘Slake the thirst that has assailed you for so long. It will be for the best.’ With these words, she turned away from her son and left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Master Dark stood in the shadows of the corridor, alert and waiting. ‘Keep your ears open,’ Tatrini said to him. ‘Although I don’t think your interference will be needed.’

  Master Dark bowed. ‘As you wish, your mightiness.’

  Chapter Eleven: Secrets of the Fire Chamber

  Rav was uneasy. It had seemed like an adventure at first, when Leo appeared at his bedside and woken him up. Rav sat up immediately, wondering why Garante had let his uncle in. Garante slept very lightly, a fact Rav had discovered on the couple of occasions he’d tried to sneak out of their apartments to meet with Leo in the gardens.

  Leo held a finger to his mouth, and merely beckoned for Rav to get up. Making barely a noise, Rav dressed himself, and then Leo led him to the back wall of the room, where a hidden doorway stood ajar. Another palace existed within the one Rav knew. It was disguised by panelling and walls, but present all the time. It might be filled with watchful eyes, looking out into the real world.

  Only once they had crossed the threshold into darkness and the door was closed behind them did Leo say, ‘Mother told me of this route. She wants us to go to her.’ From a sconce in the wall he took down a torch, which he’d clearly left there earlier.

  ‘Why?’ Rav asked. ‘It’s the middle of the night.’

  ‘Time to learn things,’ Leo replied. ‘Come on. Don’t dawdle.’

  They squeezed along a narrow high corridor, lit only by the guttering flame of Leo’s torch. The walls were sometimes of stone and sometimes of wood panelling. Occasionally, Rav heard noises beyond them. When they passed between wooden walls, Rav was afraid the flame from Leo’s torch would set fire to the dry ancient wood. Leo walked quickly ahead, so Rav could not ask questions. He feared raising his voice.

  Eventually Leo paused, allowing Rav to catch up with him. A passage opened up to the right, much wider than the one they had followed from Rav’s chamber. Just to the left, a flight of stone steps descended into greater darkness: a black so dense as to be almost alive. Rav shivered. He did not want to go down there. Why would Tatrini want them to come to her at this hour and in this manner? Perhaps Leo was lying and playing a prank, trying to frighten his nephew. It was not beyond him.

  ‘Don’t look so scared,’ Leo said in a low voice. ‘Ghosts can’t harm us, and few living people know of these routes.’

  Rav had not considered ghosts. He attempted to still his twitching jaw. ‘What’s this about, Leo? Garante will kill me if he finds me gone.’

  ‘How can he kill you if you’re not there?’ Leo uttered a snort of derision. ‘He’s your servant, Rav. Your grandmother wishes to speak with you in private, that’s all. It is quite within your rights to slip the leash for a while.’

  Rav could not look on Garante as a servant, mainly because his father held the man in such high esteem. Also, Garante had warned Rav subtly about Leo’s influence. He could not speak out directly against the Malagashes, but implied that Leo’s impulsive character, and disregard for authority, could lead to nothing but trouble. Again, through careful implication, Garante had explained that Rav was the direct heir to Palindrake, whereas Leo was only a minor prince in the Malagash line. Therefore, like Bayard before him, he sought to find an identity through wayward behaviour. Rav should consider such antics beneath him. In fact, Rav was torn. He could see the sense of what Garante had said, but even so he enjoyed Leo’s company. The other boys he’d met in Magrast were dull and lacklustre in comparison.

  ‘Let’s go, then,’ Rav said.

  Leo grinned. ‘Delights await you.’ He ran down the shallow steps, making the torch flame leap and flare. Grotesque shadows writhed across the wall. The steps were deeply worn in the middle as if thousands of feet had trodden upon them. Rav almost slipped trying to keep up. He did not want to be left alone in the dark.

  At the bottom of the steps was a corridor, lit by torches. Huge arched doorways punctuated the walls, which were of immense stone blocks. ‘Are we beneath the palace?’ Rav asked.

  ‘Beneath part of it,’ Leo replied. ‘There are deeper vaults than this.’

  Perhaps the immense wooden doors, studded with iron, concealed cells in which the remains of prisoners rotted. Rav was alert for sounds, but heard nothing. The walls seemed to breathe heavily, exuding a damp, noxious breath. This was not a good place.

  Leo appeared unaffected by the surroundings and walked jauntily along the corridor, humming softly to himself. He turned a corner, went down another wide flight of shallow steps and led the way into a wider corridor below. Here, the ceiling was vaulted with ancient carvings of elemental spirits and the air smelled of burning wax. The floor was swept, as if this was an area used regularly.

  ‘Do you know this place? Rav asked.

  ‘Not well,’ Leo replied, ‘but Mother’s instructions were clear. These ways have always been used by my family, but few of us are privileged to know them.’

  A set of tall double doors lay ahead, unadorned except for forbidding bands of iron. Rav’s spine prickled. He felt that once beyond those doors there would be no way back for him, but he lacked the courage to flee.

  Leo pushed the doors with both hands and they swung inwards silently on well-oiled hinges. Rav crept up behind him, peering fearfully over his uncle’s shoulder. Beyond the doors lay an immense domed chamber. A circular firepit, surrounded by a three foot wall of stone blocks, dominated the centre of the room. Blue-tinged flames writhed there with unnatural lethargy. Despite the flames, the air was cold and damp. A cloaked figure stood next to the fire with its back to them. Rav knew it must be his grandmother, but even so was afraid that when the figure turned round it would have the face of a demon. The room was lined with columns around which stone dragons coiled. Stylised representations of fire drakes, with wings uplifted, stood between the columns, snarling towards the pit. The atmosphere was oppressive, threatening. Rav shuddered.

  The figure by the fire turned as Rav and Leo came through the door. Rav was relieved to see Tatrini wore her usual face. ‘Well done,’ she said, presumably to Leo.

  Tatrini glided forward, throwing back the hood of her cloak. In the strange firelight, her coils of golden hair looked like white metal, immoveable and hard. ‘Rav, don’t be afraid,’ she said, smiling. ‘This must seem strange to you, I know, but there is nothing to fear.’ She put a hand on Rav’s shoulder and guided him forwards. ‘This is a sacred flame and it comes from deep within the earth. It is the breath of Efrit, the King Drake. We are in the original Fire Chamber, which in ages past was used by the magi of the King of Magravandias. To this day, the government is called the Fire Chamber, but they no longer use this sacred place for their meetings. Few know it exists.’

  Intimidated, Rav could say nothing. His heart was beating fast.

  ‘Tonight,’ said Tatrini, ‘we will work magic together. Rav, what do you know of the sea dragons?’

  He knew very little. Sometimes, his mother had talked about the dragons when she’d taken Elly and him for walks on the beach. He knew the story of how his family had once been able to talk to the dragons, but he hadn’t really thought it was more than a fairy tale. Varencienne had made it sound as if it was. He found it hard to believe his grandmother thought the old stories were real. Tatrini was staring at him with unblinking eyes. She was waiting for an answer. ‘They are supposed to live under the sea,’ he said, hoping that would satisfy her.

  Tatrini nodded in encouragement. ‘I presume your mother told you this, which is good. Your father’s mother did not give him that privilege.’

  ‘She died when he was born,’ Rav said.

  The Queen Mother’s smile had a tight edge. ‘Even if she’d lived, she’d have stood by the conventions of your family
curse. But circumstances are changing. Now is the time for you to understand the dragons’ true nature. The world comprises four subtle elements: fire, water, earth and air. We can see them as water in a lake or fire in the hearth, but we cannot see the energy within them that makes them that way. Water can be the crash of mighty waves or the gentle fall of spring rain. All the elements are emanations of the universal life force, which is a power we cannot see but which gives everything life. It enables your body to breathe, your mind to think. Nature creates and destroys with these four forces. Whoever understands them understands nature, and can create and destroy as it does.’

  Rav shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. He could not fully grasp what his grandmother was saying.

  ‘I know it’s a lot to take in,’ Tatrini said, ‘but I believe one experience is worth a thousand words. You, as your father’s son, are heir to the sea dragons’ power, because your family has a long association with them. Tonight, we will call upon the elemental forces. It will be an introduction. You will greet the power of water, which is the essence of the sea dragons, and it will greet you.’

  ‘I’m earth,’ Leo said proudly. ‘I will be the avatar of the basilisks and their queen, Hespereth.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Tatrini said. ‘You have learned well, Leo.’ She looked away from the boys towards the shadows at the back of the chamber. ‘And there are two more, to represent fire and air.’ She made a sound of mild annoyance. ‘Where are they?’

  Rav stared hard at Leo, seeking reassurance. Leo looked excited, whereas Rav felt only dread. Nothing good could happen to him in a place like this. It didn’t feel right at all. Rav knew instinctively that Leo was incapable of sensing the atmosphere properly. Oblivious, the prince concentrated only on his mother’s words, because they made him feel important.

  Gazing round the room as they waited, Rav noticed that the floor was carved with a circular design marked with the four points of the compass, as well as a lot of peculiar curling symbols in between. At each cardinal point, at the edge of the room, a high-backed throne stood between the columns. Above the chairs, wooden shields hung down from the ceiling. In the west was a design similar to the Palindrake crest: it depicted a dragon of bony coral, with spines erupting from its elegant head, its tail that of a giant fish. Fire, in the south, was represented by the majestic coils of the Fire Drake, rising from a nest of embers.