Reign of Mist

by Helen Scheuerer

  Sahara ignored Daleren’s comment. ‘Geraad is in charge of policies and communications. Fletch there trains the archers and manages our network of spies.’

  Fletch gave Bleak a mock salute.

  ‘Jaida —’ Sahara indicated the younger woman with the razor-sharp cheekbones, probably about Bleak’s age — ‘is our merchant adviser. She sets up trades with other colonies, as well as with people outside of Oremere. Daleren is in charge of resources; he finds us everything from weaponry to midwives. And finally, Kyden, Geraad’s son, is the pretty face of our rebellion. Geraad writes the fancy speeches, Kye delivers them to the Oremians.’

  As Sahara finished explaining, Bleak glanced between the harried, middle-aged man and the light-auburn-haired Kye. The latter flashed Bleak a wicked smile.

  Makes sense, Bleak thought.

  ‘We each have counterparts in our neighbouring colonies.’

  ‘How many other colonies are there?’ Bleak blurted out.

  ‘We’re one of three,’ Geraad answered. His eyes hadn’t left Sahara the whole time, but finally they slid to Bleak. ‘With the three colonies’ combined resources, we have tracked Ines’ movements. We’ve learned everything we possibly can about her. From what we’ve gathered over the years, she has the ability to host the magic of other Ashai. Which is why the crowns across the realm have sought Ashai folk. They send them to Moredon, and if their powers are deemed worthy enough, they’re offered to Ines.’

  Bleak’s heart pounded in her throat. Host the magic of other Ashai?

  Geraad was still speaking. ‘We know that her army —’

  Bleak nearly choked. ‘Army?’

  Geraad nodded solemnly. ‘Led by two of the vilest people you’ll ever come across, Langdon and Farlah.’

  Farlah … Why did the name sound familiar?

  ‘They’re cousins. Born and raised by torturers as torturers,’ Sahara added. ‘If our sources are correct, they sailed around the realm with Ines.’

  That’s it. The realisation dawned on Bleak. With Bren and Senior out on The Daybreaker.

  ‘My lady may wish to speak with you … You don’t strike me as the sort of fellow who would be familiar with nobility …’

  Bleak could picture it as though it were yesterday: the strange red flag dancing in the wind, proudly displaying the hand-painted face of a woman …

  ‘I’ve met her,’ Bleak muttered quietly, still half trapped in the memory. There was pain, the day that foreign ship pulled up alongside them. An insistent humming that had pierced her very mind.

  ‘What’s that? Speak up, newcomer,’ Daleren called.

  Bleak cleared her throat. ‘Farlah, I met her. Just briefly, years ago out at sea. She was escorting her lady with a guard, apparently from Battalon. They were heading for Qatrola, so they said.’

  ‘Thank the gods she didn’t realise what you are.’ Sahara ran her hands through her hair. ‘It was Ines, you know. Calling out to me in my dreams, whispering the word “Oremere” over and over again in my head. She was luring me to her, thinking that I was the twin with the power … I don’t know if she has realised the truth yet.’

  Bleak rubbed her eyes. There was so much to take in.

  ‘What do you mean, what she is?’ Fletch asked suddenly, studying Bleak with a newfound intensity.

  Bleak gave a curt nod of permission to Sahara. They had already told Geraad. And if Oremere used to be a haven for Ashai, she’d be damned if she couldn’t be honest about who and what she was here.

  ‘Bleak is a mind whisperer,’ Sahara said. ‘King Arden attempted to imprison her at Moredon Tower. She escaped. I want her to understand what it is we’re doing here, so she can decide for herself if she wants to join us.’

  There it was. Something Bleak hadn’t had in a long time – choice.

  She ignored the well that opened up in her chest and turned to Sahara. ‘And if I do, what’s the plan?’

  Sahara smiled. ‘I’ve told you of Casimir …’

  ‘That he had these structures built before he died?’

  ‘Casimir’s not dead,’ Geraad said.

  What?

  ‘Ines has him. He’s been her prisoner all this time.’ Sahara turned to face her fully. ‘And we’re going to rescue him.’

  Chapter 7

  Freezing didn’t cover it. Despite a second cloak of palma fur from Eydis, Henri felt as though her core had turned to ice, along with her bones and the blood in her veins. On Northern Kildaholm thoroughbreds, they cantered through the snow. They plunged after Bear and his pack, back into the Forest of Wolves, the wild animals howling all around them.

  Henri was a confident rider, and had been for many years. She’d received the best training to be had in all of Ellest, but nothing compared to the icy descent into the dark, snow-capped forest. Fresh snow was falling still, and Henri felt a stab of pity for her mount. However, Eydis had said they were bred for this.

  With Eydis as a guide, and the sure-footed steeds beneath them, it didn’t take as long to reach the haunted valley as Henri had estimated. The waving, twisted trees greeted them, and Henri, despite the years of training, discipline and battle, shuddered. When she dismounted, she sank a foot or more into the fresh powder and wondered if she’d ever feel her toes again.

  Eydis lit a torch, and beckoned for Henri to follow her into the centre of the valley.

  This is mad. Eydis is mad, Henri thought as she followed her friend, leaving the horses on the outskirts of the trees. The dogs followed their master, so close to Eydis’ feet that Henri marvelled at how she didn’t trip over them. Bear waited for them at the base of one of the biggest trees. He’d dug a hole. A tunnel – a tunnel through the snow, that led to a dark den beneath.

  ‘Ready?’ Eydis said.

  With her hands tucked under her arms, Henri glared at her. Giving her a grin, Eydis threw the torch down into the hole. Without a moment’s pause, Bear dived in, and barked from the other side.

  Eydis followed, leaving Henri no choice but to get down on her hands and knees in the cold, wet snow and crawl in after her. If she didn’t die from frostbite, she was going to kill Eydis.

  ‘Alright?’ Eydis said.

  Henri looked around. They were in some kind of cavern, and it was … warm, or warmer at least, in here, out of the vicious wind. The space was big enough for both women to stand, and Eydis moved the torch around so Henri could take it all in. The earth had been tunnelled away and packed solidly into sturdy walls. Before them, the cavern split into seven tunnels veering off in different directions.

  ‘What is this place?’ Henri breathed.

  Eydis began walking towards the middle path. ‘The East Sea Underpass.’

  ‘The what? How long has this been here?’

  ‘A long time.’ Eydis shrugged. ‘I’m surprised your mother didn’t tell you about it.’

  ‘Allehra knows this is here?’

  ‘Of course she does. How do you think we kept our trading with Valia secret for all these years?’

  ‘It leads all the way to Valia?’

  ‘Felder’s Bay.’

  ‘And the other tunnels?’

  ‘They create a network under the sea. The most right used to lead to Belbarrow River, and one of the ones on the left splits into two – to Qatrola and Oremere.’

  ‘Aren’t you concerned this is how Ines plans to invade?’

  Eydis shook her head and crouched down beside Bear. With her arms around the massive dog, she looked back up at Henri. ‘Bear and his pack are the only ones who can get through. It’s a unique talent of their breed.’

  ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘The network is guarded by lisloiks.’

  ‘Nymphs?’

  ‘Similar. Lisloiks were once water nymphs, but when the mist spread, they became trapped down here. Now, they patrol the network – misleading anyone who attempts to pass through. They confuse the minds of travellers so effectively that they wander the passages until they die of exhaustion or thirs
t – then the lisloiks take them.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘To feast upon, from what I’ve heard.’

  ‘And you want us to travel through these networks?’

  Eydis smiled. ‘Essentially, yes.’

  ‘Right,’ Henri said, grinding her teeth. ‘And tell me, how does your dog fit into all of this?’

  ‘Bear is a special breed, with the ability to keep a person from being lured into the traps of the lisloiks.’

  As they moved further into the passage, Henri could hear the dripping of water, and saw that the walls were wet.

  ‘How long until we’re under the ocean?’ she asked, feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden.

  ‘An hour or two,’ said Eydis. ‘I haven’t made the journey in a while.’

  ‘You’ve come to Ellest like this before?’

  Eydis shook her head. ‘I’ve never gone across the whole channel. I’ve only inspected the tunnels and supervised their upgrades every few years.’

  Henri shook her head in disbelief.

  Eydis stopped walking and gripped Henri’s shoulder. ‘This is how we get word to Valia. This is how we get your kindred here. Will you help us?’

  Henri felt her power swell in her palms as the pressure settled upon her. ‘I have to speak to Allehra.’

  ‘Allehra doesn’t command the kindred anymore, you do.’

  ‘I would seek her counsel.’

  ‘And what counsel would she give? That it is a bold and dangerous move? That the kindred should remain hidden in their trees?’

  ‘We are not cowards,’ Henri snapped, although she knew Eydis was baiting her.

  ‘Then prove it. Come to our aid, and we shall come to yours when the first battle is won. Mark my words, Henri – there will be a war, and we will both need all the allies we can get. Is that not why you came to me now, and not Allehra?’

  Henri said nothing, staring down the dark tunnel ahead.

  ‘Sahara’s death changed Allehra, Henri. She now seeks to protect the kindred, in the way she couldn’t protect your sister. She wants to protect you … But hiding is not what Valians are born for. Hiding is not what you spend your whole lives training for.’

  As Eydis spoke the words into the darkness, and Henri’s power thrummed through her, she knew her friend was right. She knew she was yearning for this fight, and had been for a long time. Slowly, she turned and locked eyes with Eydis.

  ‘The Valian kindred won’t cross the waters of the East Sea,’ she said. ‘They will trek beneath them. As a Queen of Valia Forest and the kindred, as your ally, and as your oldest friend, you have my word: it will be done. Valia will come to your aid.’

  Henri had sent the missive with one of Eydis’ dogs then and there. Five hundred kindred. Three days’ time. The halfway point. Henri had tucked the parchment into the pouch around the dog’s neck before Eydis had whistled, sending the canine bounding off through a pitch-black tunnel. Both rulers had watched him disappear with the flick of his tail, and stood there until the soft tapping of his paws had ceased. Henri had longed to go with the dog, to step out at the other end onto the sandy banks of Felder’s Bay, and feel the sun’s warmth on her skin once more. She felt as though she’d never be completely warm again, like the ice of Havennesse had leached into her bones. As Eydis led them from the cavern beneath the Valley of Twisted Trees, Henri had allowed herself a moment, just a moment, to yearn for the vast canopies of Valia. She missed the deep thrum of power that beat in the living bridges there, the fresh southern air and the roar of the waterfalls. She missed her own bed, and her training circuit. Her kindred … She missed them, too. Tilly, Marvel and Petra. Their fierceness, their loyalty, their banter. A head of fiery red hair flashed in her mind, and her stomach dipped.

  Yes, she thought, I miss her, too … I’ve been missing her for some time now. No matter where they were, she realised, Athene always felt like home.

  ‘Henri?’ Eydis was saying. ‘Henri, are you listening?’

  The two women were once again sitting before a roaring fire in Eydis’ private study, surrounded by Eydis’ remaining dogs.

  Henri snapped out of her reverie. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘What did you say?’

  Eydis crossed and uncrossed her long legs, her thick fur cloak falling about her carelessly.

  ‘Has anyone ever told you, you make for sorry company?’

  Despite herself, Henri laughed. ‘Not in so many words.’

  ‘Were we not on the brink of war, I’d perhaps try to talk you out of your sombre nature – there is much fun to be had in Wildenhaven,’ Eydis said, leaning forward and pouring more steaming tea into Henri’s cup.

  ‘With you, I don’t doubt it.’

  Eydis smirked. ‘One of these days, Henri —’

  There was a loud bang, and the double doors of the study flew open. Two towering men, faces flushed from the cold, both wearing thick red palma furs over their armour, stormed in. The slighter of the two had the same shade of caramel hair as Eydis, the same full lips. Jarel, the queen’s brother. The last time Henri had seen him, he’d been but a child. Henri looked to the other man. He was enormous, broad and tall, with a head of silver-streaked hair and a lined, tanned face. Eydis was already at his side, fire in her eyes. She wrenched his face down to hers and kissed him hard, before slapping him on the chest with the back of her hand.

  ‘You blithering fools,’ she snapped. ‘Where in the realm have you been?’ Her brow knitted into a furious frown.

  But the man’s gaze slid to Henri’s. ‘My queen, should you not introduce your foreign guest first?’

  Eydis tutted. ‘You know very well who she is, Nicolai. Henri – I apologise for the tardiness of these idiots.’

  Henri couldn’t contain the smile that tugged at her mouth. Gods, she hoped Eydis never changed.

  ‘My lady.’ Jarel rushed forward, his hair falling into his eyes and his face flushing deeply as he took Henri’s hand in his and pressed his lips to it.

  Eydis made an exasperated sound and rang for wine.

  Nicolai looked from the silver bell back to Eydis. ‘You’re going to want a level head for the news we have,’ he said.

  ‘Gods.’ Eydis threw herself back down into her armchair. ‘By the sounds of it, I’m going to need something much stronger than wine.’ She thrust her hands out to the empty chairs. ‘Must I drag it out of you two, then? Henri and I have other things to do than stand around with you lot.’

  The porter, Ulrich, opened the door, a tray balanced on one hand. His eyes widened at the rugged sight of Nicolai and Jarel.

  ‘My lords, I didn’t know of your return – I’ll fetch more glasses at once.’

  Eydis groaned. ‘Unfortunately, it seems we’re in need of more sobering refreshments, Ulrich. Would you prepare some more tea? For four?’

  When Ulrich had left, Henri turned to Jarel. ‘It’s nice to see you again,’ she said. ‘You’ve changed much since we last met.’

  ‘And you, my lady,’ said Jarel, full of formality.

  Henri looked at the weary faces, so familiar with one another. Eydis hadn’t taken her eyes off Nicolai; she waited expectantly. Nicolai rubbed his creased temples with his fingers, revealing nails that were lined with dirt; they hadn’t stopped to rest or bathe before returning to their queen. He looked to Eydis now, his face fallen, clearly disappointed he did not have better news to bring her.

  ‘It was as we expected. The villages of Hallowden, Briarfort and Direbreach have fallen to the cults. They speak of Ines as their goddess, the goddess. She has them convinced that she is Rheyah incarnate, that she and the huntress are one.’

  ‘Go on,’ Eydis said, leaning back in her chair, her eyes not leaving Nicolai’s.

  ‘Every single person in Hallowden has succumbed to her madness. I tried to speak with them, but they only chanted of her power, her beauty and how they are her children, ready to make the realm hers. They spoke of her immortality.’

  ‘Immortality?’

&
nbsp; Nicolai glanced darkly between them and nodded. ‘Yes. She has promised them eternal life.’

  ‘What?’ Henri cut in, unable to mask her disbelief.

  ‘Sounds about right,’ Eydis muttered, taking a steaming mug from the tray Ulrich presented.

  Quiet settled over the small group. Something trickled down Henri’s palm; she realised she’d been clenching her fists so hard that her fingernails had broken the skin.

  ‘How did they behave towards you?’ Eydis asked Nicolai.

  ‘Mad, but we were unharmed,’ he replied.

  Jarel shifted in his seat, his eyes betraying guilt. ‘I shouldn’t have let him go alone,’ he cut in, gripping Nicolai’s forearm.

  ‘Our queen’s orders were for you to stand down. It was nothing. I’m unharmed.’

  Eydis’ gaze flitted between the two men, a muscle sliding in her jaw. ‘Show me.’

  Nicolai looked right at her, and sighed heavily. ‘It looks worse than it is.’

  Eydis said nothing, but Henri noted that her fingers gripped the arms of her chair so hard, the skin around her knuckles was bone-white.

  Only Henri’s training kept her still as her stomach churned at the thought of what they might be about to learn. Aren’t things bad enough?

  Nicolai’s mouth set in a grim line as he shrugged off his palma furs and unstrapped the armour covering his chest. Beneath it, his clothes were torn, as though a crazed mob indeed had clutched at the fabric and wrenched it blindly. Unable to hide his wince, he rolled up his undershirt, revealing the tanned skin beneath, littered with old scars. He kept rolling the material up to his ribs. At the sight of it, even Henri had to suppress her gasp of horror. She risked a glance at Eydis, anticipating her wrath, but her friend’s face had gone sickly pale. Henri’s eyes went back to Nicolai’s wound. His flesh had been branded. It was not a clean mark – the surrounding skin was burned and festering – he had clearly fought with all his might. The brand was clear enough nonetheless. It was a woman’s face, blistered and raw.