In Solitude's Shadow: Empire of Ruin Book One

by David Green

  “If we don’t meet them, we invite needless death and destruction.”

  Garet shot to his feet, eyes wide. He thrust a trembling finger in Zanna’s face.

  “It’s you, and those who act against us taking the initiative, that invite death and destruction. Remember that.”

  He stalked into the dining hall. Zanna looked away.

  A gong sounded from the dining room. The last of the Sparkers filed in. Zanna got to her feet and joined them, wishing she could shake the shiver that sank into her bones.

  ###

  Sparkers dressed in bright yellows, greens, blues and purples milled around the dining hall, stepping forward one at a time to place their vote in the box, under the watchful eye of Protector Garet. He stared each of them in the eye as they approached and deposited their ballot, as if attempting to read or sway their minds. Almost all the Sparkers of Solitude filled the hall. Those on watch had cast their votes earlier in the day, sealing their envelope with a magic-infused wax seal. They would know when Garet unsealed the paper.

  Zanna half-wished she could have cast her vote that way, instead of dropping it under the despot’s watchful glare.

  She waited her turn and strode to the box, matching his stare. She refused to be cowed by the likes of him.

  “You of all people should know what’s necessary,” he said, as she stood before him. He seemed to hold her responsible for Solitude’s dissenting voices. If he could alter her mind, the rest would follow suit.

  “You’re right,” Zanna replied, dropping her vote into the box, “which is why I know it’s necessary that no Sparker ever use Evisceration.”

  She spun on her heel and walked away, nodding to the next voter as she passed. Zanna took a seat on a bench next to Arlo, who sulked with his head resting on his arms on the table.

  “I hate waiting,” he muttered. He sat up and clicked his fingers, producing different coloured flames each time.

  “That’s Solitude,” Zanna said, watching his magic. “Even the Banished are in on the act. Very nice, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” He beamed at her. “You’re not a bad teacher.”

  Zanna drew on her own energy, body heat lowering as if ice ran through her veins—her skin pricked from the coolness—and settled a shield around Arlo’s hand, like an invisible bubble. Her temperature returned quickly to normal. Her student’s eyes grew wide as he felt the magic touch his skin.

  “Don’t worry,” Zanna smiled. “It’s so you can practice in safety. You can expand this bubble as a shield to protect you from external attacks, too. Some Sparkers find it useful for drunken trips to the lavvy in the night. Try filling the shield with fire. It won’t harm you; it comes from you.”

  Arlo frowned as he splayed his fingers. Different coloured flames spurted from his digits in a continuous gush. He held his hand in front of his face and laughed.

  “Amazing,” he said, waving his fire-hand from side-to-side, multi-coloured lights flickering off the robes of the nearby Sparkers.

  “You’re drawing a crowd, maestro.” Zanna pointed around the room. Several Sparkers looked at the lesson in progress, a fun distraction from the drudgery of the voting. “But remember that this isn’t just a pretty trick. It can be dangerous, too. If I removed the shield, you’d burn us all down, and this is just from the magic inside you. Imagine if you borrowed energy from elsewhere.”

  The flames dwindled and went out. Arlo wriggled his fingers as he examined them.

  “Tired?”

  “No,” he said in a thoughtful tone. “Not even a little.”

  Zanna raised her eyebrows and measured his power. It’s grown in the last week, she thought, more than it should.

  Guilt prodded at her. Between the Banished and the possibility of Calene entering her life again, she’d been neglecting Arlo.

  “Your power could outstrip us all, Arlo,” she said, shaking her head. “I hope I teach you the correct way to use it.”

  “I hope so, too,” the boy replied, a faraway look in his bright eyes. “Something’s nagging at me, Master. Not quite fear.”

  “There’s enough people to fill three cities at our gates. You’re worried about the Banished. It’s natural. I can’t pretend I’m not worried too.”

  Arlo paused and closed his eyes, as if he sought to order his thoughts before speaking.

  “No,” he muttered at last, shaking his head. “It’s not them. At least, not all about them. You know I hear their singing in my sleep, too? When I’m dreaming. Do you hear them?”

  “No,” Zanna said, relieved her apprentice broached his nightmares at last, “but I’m not surprised the Banished are in your dreams.”

  “I’m frightened of this Spark inside me,” Arlo went on. “It’s such a beautiful thing but…terrible too. Now they want us to become even more like weapons… I don’t want that.”

  Zanna laid a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. If only you made the decisions around here, she thought, proud of her apprentice’s innocence.

  “It’s your choice. No one can force you. The Spark is yours, and so are your decisions. Live by them.”

  Could she really give that advice? Her decision, ten years before, had cost her everything. Her position, her home, her daughter.

  Have I lived by them? she thought. Or have I hid myself away at the end of the world and let them consume me?

  Arlo frowned at his hands, and Zanna took the chance to glance at Garet as he counted the votes. Two piles of paper grew in front of him as he placed the ballots on the table, though one stack soon outstripped the other. Zanna studied his impassive face, searching for a sign. Which way would the decision go?

  “Can we talk about my dreams, Zanna?”

  She turned to him. He peered at her, eyes filled with fear. It struck her then; his refusal to talk about his nightmares didn’t stem from some boyish notion of strength. Even the idea of talking about them petrified him.

  “Of course. Now?”

  “Later,” Arlo replied, his bottom lip trembling. “After the vote.”

  Conversations around the hall drifted into silence as the Sparkers watched their leader. The quiet amplified the Banished’s singing and the music filled the cavernous walls. They felt closer than before as they waited in nervous stillness.

  Placing one last piece of paper down with deliberate care, Garet climbed to his feet.

  “An outcome. A verdict has reached a majority of one-hundred-and-one votes, so I won’t count the rest,” he said, without amplifying his voice. Zanna leaned forward to hear. “Solitude’s Sparkers have voted to reject the Council’s directive.”

  He fell silent, gaze lingering on each assembled Sparker before it fell on Zanna.

  “I only asked that you give me the means to be proactive, to fight to our full potential, and spare those innocent souls in Adhraas that will suffer the wrath of the Banished when they sweep beyond Solitude. There is an army at our walls, and they won’t hesitate when the time comes. Mark my words; I guarantee you, this vote has doomed us all.”

  Garet swept out of the hall, leaving a stunned silence in his wake. Zanna looked around at the others. None appeared pleased with the outcome. The gravity of their situation weighed heavy. Some got to their feet, shaking their heads and followed Garet from the room.

  “What does this mean?” Arlo whispered, tugging at Zanna’s sleeve. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, many of the remaining Sparkers were looking to her now.

  “It means we must find another way of keeping the Banished where they are.” She winked at him, an attempt to put him at ease despite her dread. “There’s always another way.”

  ###

  Zanna returned to her rooms alone. Arlo insisted on delving further in the library, and she allowed him the opportunity to distract himself. She wanted to speak to him of his dreams, like he’d asked, but
for the moment the issue seemed forgotten.

  She wandered to the ramparts above the gigantic main gate that led out onto the plains beyond Solitude. She paused at a window overlooking the forest trail that led towards the fringes of Haltveldt’s territories.

  How long since I’ve stared this way?

  The night’s frost dusted the grass either side of the road leading from Solitude into Adhraas village and the harbour, ten miles south. Some of her fellow Sparkers journeyed there on occasion. She never had.

  She’d last visited the place ten years earlier, when her exile began. She hadn’t left Solitude since. She’d immersed herself in her new life and spared little thought of the outside world, seeking to rid herself of the memories that haunted her, that assaulted her when she closed her eyes, no matter how much she studied, working until her bones screamed with weariness.

  Months passed, and Zanna attempted contact with her daughter. Calene’s resentment, her disgust, had struck her like a physical blow and she’d retreated into herself. She kept to her rooms, and haunted the corridors of Solitude, alone and silent, even pulling away from Miriam’s friendship for a time.

  During that time, Solitude had truly been her prison, but one she’d created for herself. The idea of journeying to Adhraas frightened her. What if the people there discovered her crimes? What would they do to the woman who had given in to her darkness and Eviscerated her own husband?

  As the years ticked by, the fortress’s tall walls and icy rooms became her world. She’d lived a decade in Solitude’s shadow.

  She resumed her climb to the stronghold’s highest point. The people of Adhraas would bear the brunt of their failure to defend Solitude. The town’s leaders believed the Banished posed no threat and wouldn’t order an evacuation. If the attack came, it would be a massacre.

  Zanna tested her connection with Calene again, edging into it, and sighed when she felt the barrier once more.

  Have we done the right thing here? Holding to the Laws? She cast the words towards her daughter, though she knew Calene wouldn’t hear them. You’d say yes. I know you would. The world isn’t black and white though, and we’re naïve if we expect to live that way.

  She thought of Arlo, and how he feared the Spark inside him. Calene had feared Zanna, when she woke and discovered the remains of her father. She had scared herself. Still did. The thought that her instinct had been something so terrible, that the power had spilled out of her without a thought of another way, chilled her. Now, she knew there’d been a better way, but she feared, if put in the same position again, she’d do the same thing.

  For her daughter. For Arlo.

  Maybe we’re not so different after all, Garet.

  Bells rang from the watchtowers, snapping her from the dark corners of her mind. Zanna ran.

  She reached the top of the tallest tower and gasped, raising her hand to her mouth in shock. The skies above the Peaks of Eternity writhed in a kaleidoscope of colour, the shades mixing and warping as they blended together.

  A shrill wail pierced the air. Ignoring the other Sparkers keeping watch on the rampart, Zanna fumbled for the telescope at her hip and scanned the Banished. They faced the mountains, some on their knees, others with arms stretched towards the skies, screaming as one. Their howls drove daggers into Zanna’s heart; their lament carried so much pain and loss.

  She turned the telescope to the party of Banished who’d approached the walls the day before. The riders pelted back to their ranks, leaving the leader alone. The man stood with his arms open wide, shouting up at them.

  To Zanna’s eyes, it seemed he looked at her, pleading with her.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance. More than that, it sounded like the sky itself began to tear apart. The lights grew more violent, pulsating and swirling faster than before. The Banished wailed, and the thunder rumbled louder, the heavens roaring fury at the earth. Zanna sank to her knees and the other Sparkers followed, gritting teeth and pressing hands to their ears as the cacophony threatened to overwhelm them.

  Then, just as Zanna feared her head would explode from the chaos, the furious roar from the sky faded. The Banished fell silent with it. Zanna blinked and glanced around.

  She struggled to her feet, rubbing the pressure from her temples and accessed her Second Sight. Along the ramparts, Zanna saw other Sparkers doing the same.

  A mighty shield—a shimmering, translucent blue—covered the walls in a dome, protecting Solitude from the shale at its foot to the pinnacle of its tallest tower. The sound hadn’t disappeared; something had shut it out instead. The lights still battled each other for dominance in the sky, reflecting on the surface of the globe and spreading their changing light across Solitude.

  Her panic turned to calm as she watched Sparkers flood the walls from below—led by Garet, of all people—merging their Spark to build the barrier of magic over Solitude. It wouldn’t halt physical attacks, her Sight told her that, but it would protect against magic. Common knowledge told them the Banished didn’t possess any power but something had caused the cacophony raging above the Peaks of Eternity. If not them, what?

  She gazed out and watched the Banished scream into the skies, their cries dulled by the barrier. The riders had reached the front lines and rallied them. Beyond the magical shield, horns sounded and weapons rattled as soldiers marched to join the lone man ahead of them.

  “Master?”

  Zanna spun. Arlo stood behind her, pointing into the sky. His thin arm trembled as the lights from the heavens reflected in his eyes. She closed the gap to him, and drew him close. He wept against her chest, body shaking.

  “There now,” she murmured, watching the lights swirl above the monstrous mountains on the horizon. “You’re safe here with me.”

  “No,” Arlo managed, through his tears. “None of us are safe. I dreamt of this. The sky tearing itself apart. A bright green wave of light sweeps down from the mountains and crashes into Solitude. The Banished scream, they wail, they cry as they flood the walls. A shadow waits, in my mind, in my dreams. It comes for us all, Master, and there’s nothing we can do. Nothing!”

  He fell, sobbing, into her arms. She laid a hand against his back, and felt it rise as he breathed.

  Their waiting is over, Zanna thought, a tear falling down her cheek as she held her apprentice tight. The defence of Solitude begins. Raas save us all.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE UNEXPECTED

  ‘Avastia? I’ve seen it. Two monarchs—one human, one elf. Place is dreary, wet, and full of secrets.’ - Heron, a renowned explorer.

  “Wake up.”

  The words stirred her from sleep. A slap did the rest.

  Calene snapped upright in the mud. She remembered Vettigan, the Shadow Sparker’s attack. She definitely remembered Zal’s knee. Then the stallion, trampling its rider into the dirt, the sound of bones snapping. The silence even as she struck the thing over and over again, until the very moment its head left its body.

  How did it get up after that? she thought, her hand straying towards the sword on her hip. Did I pass out?

  Calene gazed around. The Banished sat in the back of the cart, staring at the prone body of Vettigan. She wanted to run to him, check on her friend. If she could see the damage herself, maybe she could try to fix it.

  The elf crouched in front of her, hands slick with blood. She nodded at Calene.

  “I moved the bodies, but we should leave soon,” she said, wiping a hand on her cloak and holding it out.

  Calene hesitated, then gripped it. The elf pulled her to her feet with ease, as if she were a child. Tall and lithe, her bright red hair framed tanned, freckled skin and green eyes. Beneath the dirty green cloak, she clad herself in dark leather armour, well-worn and regularly patched. The mantle of a seasoned fighter, one who relied on speed and natural grace.

  “I put them in a pit and burned them. J
ust in case they were thinking of getting up again.”

  Calene suppressed a shiver. That Shadow Sparker… There’s more of them.

  She eyed the elf. “We should leave? Don’t elves kill Sparkers on sight?”

  “Why? Would you like me to kill you?” She gazed over at the cart, seeming bored. “Seems like it would be too easy, in your current state. And a waste of an opportunity for me. Travelling with humans would make my life a little easier this far north. Why not feed me, and I’ll travel with you awhile?”

  “Raas’ teeth, the beggar playing the sellsword now? Rubbish.” Calene stood between the elf and the cart, arms folded. “You didn’t just happen upon that ambush. You’ve been watching us the whole time, since we met you on the road back there. Why? What does an elf want with two travellers and a mule? Unless it’s not us at all. I saw you looking at our friend back on the road. Now you can’t take your eyes off him. What is he to you?”

  The elf narrowed her eyes and chewed her bottom lip.

  “I’m not sure. Can’t describe it. Your kind wouldn’t understand, I suspect. My eyes tell me he’s what you call Banished.” She smiled and poked Calene in the chest. “That picture in your cloak was interesting though. I know what that is. Do you?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?” Calene snapped, fighting back a flash of annoyance from the thought of the elf rummaging through her pockets.

  “On the road,” the elf replied, scooping the water skin that Calene gave her from her cloak and pouring it over her hands to wash away the blood.

  “Get droked. You think I’ll take you on your word? Teeth of the gods, woman.”

  “Believe what you will,” the elf said, with a shrug. “I didn’t need to rescue you.”

  Irritated as it made Calene to admit, she was right. The other woman could have stolen the cart; all their belongings, too. She’d been the last one standing after the battle.