by Drew Wagar
‘Maid, when you’re done here, I’d have my room tidied whilst we’re about our business, see it is done.’
Zoella nodded again. ‘Yes, my Prince.’
She didn’t dare look across at Liana, but busied herself by holding the stirrups in place whilst Ioric mounted the herg. Around her the rest of the royals were doing the same.
‘Let us take the road around the lake,’ the king called. ‘With me!’
Zoella risked a quick glance at Liana, but she was paying her no attention, talking to the beastmaster and then rolling her eyes at king Marek’s words. The king’s herg moved away leaving the courtyard and heading out through the roads that led downwards towards the city gates. Ioric waited until the others had moved off and tucked his herg into the rear of the group.
He looked over his shoulder as they departed, catching Zoella’s gaze, raising an eyebrow before looking back and disappearing into the swirling snow.
Zoella quickly finished her chores in the stables, changed and was about to follow Ioric’s instructions. Raga had tried to follow her but she had told him to stay and tied him securely to one of the posts in the stables. She touched his muzzle.
Sorry Raga. But I can’t take you with me this time. I will be back as soon as I can …
Raga whimpered, but then settled down reluctantly, looking at her through big mournful eyes.
Zoella smiled at him. ‘I’ll make it up to you, promise. If I can find out what is going on, perhaps we can leave this place again soon, yes?’
She left the carn behind and walked up into the city, making for Ioric’s chambers.
There was a guard outside the door.
‘I am here to service the room,’ she said.
The guard nodded. ‘The Prince left instructions to that effect. You may enter.’
Zoella curtseyed and then opened the door, moving inside.
Ioric’s chambers were stark in comparison to most she had seen. There was little in the way of decoration other than the overall design of the room itself. No tapestries. Shutters rather than the curtains she had seen everywhere else. Chairs were placed carefully, but devoid of cushions. A table was positioned near the windows, covered in papers and books. All were tidily arranged.
The bed was already made, a simple straw mattress with basic white linen.
The room required no attention at all.
He wanted me to find something … but what?
She looked over the books on the desk. They were tomes of Scallian history, but a quick look through them revealed nothing other than endless names of the royal line stretching back into antiquity. Others described the Voren empire that had gone before, she had vaguely heard talk of it, but it was more than two hundred rounds before, ancient history.
The papers were mostly records, repeating lines of ledgers; monies in and monies out of the kingdom. The costs of the army, hergs, tithes and harvest records. Nothing seemed particularly interesting.
The table had no drawers, there was nothing else there.
He wanted me to tidy his room …
She looked around. There was a jacket on the end of the bed, hanging on the bed post, slightly crumpled. She picked it up and smoothed it out.
There were pockets, but there was nothing inside. She sighed, wondering where to put it. She spun on her heel and saw that there was a wooden wardrobe on the opposite side of the room.
Inside were dozens of hangers with various cloaks, coats, jackets and tunics. She found a spare one and hung up the jacket she was carrying. One coat, old and narg-bitten, was pushed back against the far right. It smelt stale, she wrinkled her nose as she put her hand within.
Her fingers brushed against some paper in the inside pocket. She pulled it out. A folded envelope with a single letter written in the corner on the outside.
Z! Z for Zoella?
She carefully opened it and read.
Zoella. Well done for finding this, but it’s just the start. You will need to be more cunning from here on. I don’t know how it’s been done, but the catacombs below the city have been opened. I’ve seen the entrance, now protected by a wooden door, where once there was a stone wall. Someone is already ahead of us, deciphering the secrets of the past. Find out what is down there …
Directions followed, telling her how to make her way through the lower levels of the city.
…Be careful. I cannot go there without rousing suspicion, but you should be able to find your way in. It’s vital we understand the answer to this riddle, to your dream and to the witches of Drayden. Good luck and burn this letter!
Zoella swallowed, feeling her heart beating in her chest.
The catacombs!
The King’s escort had covered half the distance to Ioric’s ruined outpost when the King brought them to a stop. About them the snow still swirled, the land covered in an unfamiliar brightness. Below the river continued to flow, though Ioric could see that something strange was happening in the slower moving water near the banks.
The King saw it too and signalled for his guards to help him dismount.
They made their way cautiously to the edge and looked over. Ioric’s first thought was that the water had turned into glass. He reached down to touch it, only to be rewarded with freezing cold water splashing on him as the surface broke up under his touch.
The King laughed. ‘Legends say that water turns to rock in the far Shadeward, perhaps it happens in our lands upon occasion.’
Ioric nodded.
Of more concern is why this is happening here. Snow has never been recorded in living memory …
‘It’s cold and it’s miserable.’ Liana’s voice came from behind them. ‘All I want is a cup of warm chai and a fire.’
Ioric could see that the guards had some sympathy for that view.
‘You wish to return?’ Marek asked.
‘Sad to say, yes, grandfather. This is not to my liking at all. It’s very pretty for a spell, but tedious for any longer. Cold, damp and uncomfortable.’
‘Your daughter is too used to life indoors, Prince Ioric,’ Marek said. ‘A beautiful creature, but soft and weak?’
‘I would not say she is soft or weak,’ Ioric returned. ‘Other words perhaps.’
Liana glared in his direction. Marek laughed.
‘With your example to follow I can hardly blame her. Go little Princess, seek the warmth indoors if you must.’
‘I will,’ Liana replied. ‘I’m sure my father will be happy to accompany you, strong and fearless as he is.’
The glare had turned to impertinence.
‘Perhaps we should all return,’ Ioric suggested.
‘Oh no need to be chivalrous on my account,’ Liana answered. ‘I’ll take two of the guards, I sure they will be able to escort such a helpless creature as I.’
Marek laughed again. ‘With me then, Prince. If you cannot tame your daughter by now, then you never shall.’
Ioric caught the faint smile on Liana’s face before she carefully hid it. She raised her eyebrow before turning her herg about and sending it trotting back the way she had come.
She gets her own way again.
The city was quiet, it was time for the second meal of the stretch and most folks were indoors. The royals remained on their ride in the snow and weren’t expected back until the last chime before the sleeping. The cold was keeping most folk indoors. Zoella had to dodge few people on her way into the lower levels.
It was clear to her that the city had once held many more people than it now did. Many streets were completely empty, devoid of life, dusty and neglected. It took her a chime to find her way around the base of the city. It was dark here, in the shadow of Lacaille, gloomy and forbidding. Once there would have been mirrors to bring the light into the darkness, but they had long since gone missing.
She took care where she was walking, in many places the snow lay undisturbed and it was difficult not to leave signs of her passing, fortunately the streets were covered by overhangs of buildings for
the most part and she was able to pass unnoticed.
Ioric’s instructions had been clear and precise. She was able to find her way without error. She found herself towards the rear of the city, near the outside wall in the lee of the mountain side. Above her the wall stretched, perhaps ten times her height. Beyond that, the mountain reached into the heavens, towering upwards, its peak obscured by the thick grey clouds.
A narrow second wall stood in front of the main wall, barely her height. She looked about her, but everything was still. She moved to the wall and with a jump lifted herself to see over. Below was a channel, running around the perimeter of the city. It was full of debris and rocks; rocks that looked fresh …
She spotted the door. It was almost directly below her, there must be a passageway somewhere under her feet. Deftly she climbed the wall and threw herself over the other side, carefully making her way down, conscious of the rocks below. She was in shadow again and for a moment everything was dark. She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust.
She was faced with a heavy rough-hewn wooden door, bolted closed, the rocks about its base cleared away just enough for the door to move open a little.
Enough for someone to enter.
Carefully she moved across, placing her feet amongst the rocks until she reached it. She placed her ear against the timbers, listening for any sounds from within. There was nothing.
She unbolted the door and pulled, struggling with its weight. It swung back with a slow noisy creak. She winced at the sound it made, looking to her left and right. She was still alone.
She peered inside, the darkness was complete beyond a few steps. She took a deep breath. Like most people she found complete darkness unnerving, it was so unnatural.
Maybe I should have brought Raga after all. I would prefer him beside me now …
Prepared, she’d brought along some mossglow in a jar; strange close-cropped plants that shone green for a time when they were placed in the darkness. She pulled off a cloth that had covered the jar and was rewarded with a faint green light. It wasn’t much, but as her eyes adapted to the darkness it was bright enough. She pulled the door closed behind her.
The floor of the passageway was rough and poorly finished, full of rubble and leading steeply downhill. It was obvious that it had been recently cleared. There was dust everywhere, still floating in the air.
It must have been opened in just the last few stretches …
The passageway came to an end at a flight of stairs carved into the rock, leading downwards. Zoella made her way down, cautiously placing one foot in front of the other.
It was easier to see now, the green glow from her jar seeming to spread out further and further. The stairs were opening into a room.
More rubble greeted her at the bottom. She stepped through and then stumbled back, her heart hammering.
Bones!
There on the floor, covered in some kind of rotten cloak was a skeleton. It was crouched at the entrance, arms and fingers outstretched. By the light of the jar Zoella could just make out scratches and markings on the walls and rocks around her.
They were sealed in alive. Ioric’s custodians! Sealed in the darkness to die …
She shivered, feeling dread rise about her, but there was no sound other than her panicky gasps. She took a moment to breathe deeply, trying to calm her thoughts. Sweat cooled on her face, goose bumps rising on her skin, bringing her back to her senses.
All long ago. Let’s find out what secrets they died for …
She made her way across the room, avoiding several other skeletons and other unrecognisable debris on the floor. By the dim light of the jar she could see the outlines of bookshelves rising above her. It was impossible to get a true sense of size, but they rose out of range of the light from the jar. Thousands and thousands of books. Ladders were provided here and there, set against the bookcases, with wheels at their bases, all rusted and useless now.
A library. It must have been a wonder to behold. What knowledge has languished here, rotted and lost to us because of fear?
A table came into her field of view. She walked up to it. It was enormous, perhaps as wide as a man and several lengths long, stretching out beyond the light provided by the jar. On top of it at regular intervals were strange metal contraptions with hooded covers with short lengths of cord hanging below them. It was obvious they were meant to be pulled. Zoella tried one and was rewarded with a decisive click, but nothing else happened.
On the table were charts, maps and more books. Zoella examined the map, marvelling at the detail it presented. She could see Viresia marked and the town where she had grown up, Serenia. They weren’t that far apart as presented here, which meant that the rest of the continent had to be enormous. It had taken Ioric and her many stretches to make their way to the city.
To the sunward she could see three other places marked. Dynesia, Varda and Daine. The last one was marked with a symbol, a pointed triangle. A dotted line ran just to the sunward of Varda.
Daine … in Drayden. Drayden! The land of the witches …
Next to the map was a large book, bigger than anything Zoella had seen before. It was in surprisingly good condition and noticeably free from dust. It was bound in a soft leathery material. Zoella recognised it as dach hide, rare and valuable.
The book was open, Zoella brought the jar close.
The text was printed in some strange fashion, with characters bold and stark, quite different from those written by scribes. It was clear the book was very old indeed. Most of the words she understood, some she did not.
…Powers that others do not possess. The ability to read a mind, the ability to perceive thought and emotions in others, the ability to determine the nature of injuries and direct the body to heal itself and the ability to communicate at range; these are the gifts as we understand them, given to those to whom has been given the role of governance. This power, the nexion and hereafter known as ‘the gift’, is essential to the running of the Voren empire.
The gift is found only in women and must be sought out by those already in full control of their gift. It lies dormant until the later stages of puberty by design, to avoid the complexities of such powers emerging in the immature. Once detected, the gift must be given training suitable for the measure of the gift that is demonstrated.
The training is divided into a series of exercises which should be performed in sequence …
The passage went on and on, down the length of the page. Zoella skimmed through it, amazed at what she was reading.
But I can do some of this …!
Another passage caught her eye. She moved the jar closer, the light was beginning to fade, she didn’t have much longer.
Caution must be advised when training the gift. If the subject does not demonstrate the appropriate levels of psychological stability in the execution of their abilities, it is advisable to apply additional training. If this is unsuccessful and in extreme situations, it may become necessary to have the subject’s gift removed.
In such situations the gift becomes additive to those who undertake the removal. This should be carefully monitored for abuse.
Zoella found it hard to understand as many of the words meant nothing to her, but she got the gist of it. She got to the penultimate paragraph.
At no stage should the gift be used inappropriately. It is possible to reverse the natural order of the gift and use it to impart harm. This can take the form of unconscious dreams and desires, through to subtle manipulation of thoughts and actions. In extreme cases it can be used to inflict pain of various types and control the actions of others. Such use of the gift is strictly forbidden and will result in immediate expulsion from the office of governance. Imprisonment and possible execution should be considered for such crimes.
Zoella stopped in surprise.
Someone has been reading this, studying it. But why? This gift, do I have it? Is that why I was hidden away? To stop me being searched out and given over to the witches of Drayde
n?
She dared not move the book. There was nothing else on the table that looked important. She leafed through the pages quickly, working out that she had been reading an introduction, with the rest of the book concerned with the details of the training that had already been mentioned. It was comprehensive, covering each stage of the training and dividing it into sections. She would like to have studied it at length, but she knew she had to get back to Ioric to tell him what she had found.
And if someone else is studying this, it means someone else has this gift … and is learning how to use it …
There was one more paragraph at the end of the introduction. She began to read.
Cultivation of the gift is of primary importance. In of itself, it is rare and precious. As per the directives of the empire, the people of Drayden are responsible for the administration of those with such gifts and all candidates should be sent there for testing and suitability.
The gift will then be put to its proper use, the ordering of the affairs of the empire in times of peace and the co-ordination of response in the times when Lacaille darkens. Administrators are required to ensure that the necessary plans and preparation are in place prior to the onset of the cold weather that precedes the darkening.
Proconsul Tobius Affren, Department for Administrative Affairs, Round 1898
Zoella sat leant back from the book in surprise.
Lacaille darkens … after cold weather! And 1898? That’s more than four hundred rounds ago …
The edge of the book had piqued her curiosity. What little she knew of history told her that Scallia was only about two hundred rounds old, formed after the Voren empire collapsed. She remembered being told that there had been some kind of civil war, a war in which the witches of Drayden had been victorious over some enemy bent on destroying the very ground upon which people stood. How much of that was true, she didn’t know, but this book told of a time long before even that ancient story.
But it wasn’t just that.
This gift, it describes some of the things I can do. Are these powers that I may show given time?
But even that wasn’t what had caused her heart to flutter.
