Stormtide

by Den Patrick

  Cremation. A rotting body causes pestilence and we can ill afford a plague taking hold on the island. Not after everything that has happened.

  ‘Your wisdom is a guiding light in these dark times,’ replied Father Orlov. Silverdust ignored the sarcasm. ‘Will you walk with me, Exarch? I think it would do everyone good to see the highest-ranking Vigilant in the academy taking an interest in the living.’

  I will walk with you, Father Orlov, though rank is rarely a comfort in the wake of disaster.

  ‘And truly this has been a disaster,’ said Father Orlov as he exited the room. ‘And someone will have to answer for it.’

  Silverdust wondered if there were a note of warning in Orlov’s words, or if the man had tipped his hand.

  There is always a price to paid.

  Father Orlov glanced over his shoulder to check Silverdust was following him down the dark stone corridor. The children called him Cryptfrost behind his back, on account of his chilly temperament, and for the power he wielded over water and wind. Orlov would be keen to blame Silverdust for Steiner’s destruction of the Ashen Torment and his subsequent escape.

  The Exarch and Father Orlov emerged in Academy Square and looked over the battered flagstones. Novices swept the square of grit and sand as best they could despite the wind.

  ‘I barely recognise the place now,’ said Father Orlov, unable to disguise how forlorn he was at the disarray before him. The Vigilant clenched his fists and Silverdust could sense a fierce eddy of disgust, shame and anger for what had happened during Steiner’s uprising.

  It is much changed.

  Blood stained the flagstones of Academy Square, each mark a reminder of someone who had risen up against the Empire or died to defend it.

  ‘It was quite the scene,’ said Father Orlov, after taking a moment to compose himself. ‘The Spriggani priestess killed a great many of our men, turning them to stone with her gaze.’

  I had heard as much.

  ‘Your absence during the fighting was noted.’

  I stayed close to Academy Vozdukha, protecting loyalist students.

  This was lie, but one almost impossible to disprove. Academy Vozdukha was home to the school of wind, and though it had been a long time since Silverdust had taught, he had reason to be there.

  ‘I also heard you … negotiated with them. At the end.’ Father Orlov stopped walking and cradled a gloved fist inside the palm of his other hand. ‘With the Vartiainen boy and the Spriggani.’

  Silverdust turned to the Vigilant, his curving mirror mask reflecting the nine stars of Father Orlov’s proud visage. The Exarch loomed over his subordinate.

  Careful, Orlov, you are perilously close to accusing me of treason.

  ‘And yet you were seen in the company of the dragon rider—’

  I was merely trying to broker a temporary peace. The Vartiainen boy did not want to rule the island. He wanted to escape and to take his friends with him.

  This much at least was true. Steiner had never wanted dominion over Vladibogdan. Destroying the Ashen Torment had been testament to that.

  My intent was to put an end to any further killing. It is by my actions that we have any loyal novices left alive at all.

  Silverdust could feel Father Orlov’s gaze upon him, sense the Vigilant’s own telepathy brushing against his mind for some clue to the Exarch’s dishonesty.

  You will not find what you seek with the arcane. Silverdust touched two fingers to his temple. My aged mind is as bewildering and impenetrable as any forest.

  Orlov bowed. ‘Forgive me, Exarch, but you can understand my caution. We have suffered the worst setback in the history of Vladibogdan. I need to know who I can trust.’

  I can understand your caution, Father. Silverdust walked to the centre of Academy Square and for a moment the battle raged all around him, phantoms conjured by memory. Arcane fire flared brightly, guttering as renegade students summoned winds to fight it. Soldiers fell choking as cinderwraiths robbed them of their dying breaths.

  Tell me how things stand on the island now the dust has settled.

  ‘Loyalty has largely been determined by academy,’ said Father Orlov. ‘The novices of Plamya are the most loyal, with Zemlya close behind.’ It stood to reason. The students of Plamya, the fire school, were wild and capricious, but loyal to the Empire nonetheless. Zemlya, the earth school, had always been headed up by hardline Vigilants. Their fanaticism had been duly passed on to their charges.

  ‘No one trusts the few novices of Vozdukha and Voda that remained.’ Vozdukha, the school of air, had ever had a reputation for difficult or eccentric students, while Voda, the school of water, was barely seen as an academy at all. Its students had never amounted to anything.

  And yet those students did remain. Does that give indication of their loyalty? I will be most displeased if there is any more death on this island. Do I make myself clear, Father Orlov?

  ‘So I gather you’re taking command then?’ said the Vigilant, taking no pains to hide the sneer in his tone. ‘At last.’

  This is why you summoned me from the tower, is it not?

  Father Orlov said nothing.

  I am the highest-ranking Vigilant on the island.

  ‘Perhaps you can drag yourself away from the cremations to start acting like it,’ replied Father Orlov, before turning smartly and marching towards Academy Plamya.

  Silverdust would have sighed had he still had lungs to breathe with. The north-eastern wind howled more loudly in Father Orlov’s absence and Silverdust turned towards the gatehouse and approached the top of the stone stairs. White-tipped waves smashed against the dark stone of the cove far below. For a fleeting second Silverdust saw the ghostly outline of a ship. A second later and the vision had gone. A vision of the future, Silverdust decided. Guests would soon arrive on Vladibogdan.

  Silverdust delegated as much as possible to the few Vigilants who had survived the uprising in the days that followed. He appointed Father Orlov as his deputy for no other reason than to keep a close eye on the man. Taking over Felgenhauer’s old office didn’t sit well with Silverdust, but necessity demanded his discomfort. The Matriarch-Commissar had never been given to decoration but had kept a fine selection of books, which Silverdust distracted himself with, despite having read them all a long time ago. A knock sounded on the door and Silverdust set aside the book he was reading with a flicker of irritation.

  Enter.

  The door creaked open and a half-starved waif of around ten years stared at the Exarch with wide eyes.

  Fear not, I will do you no harm. There is a message, I assume.

  The boy nodded, then blinked and shook his head.

  ‘No, not really. A ship has arrived and all the other Vigilants have gone down to the cove to greet it. I …’ The boy swallowed. ‘I thought you should know.’

  I imagine Father Orlov is keen to make a good first impression and give his side of the story.

  The boy nodded. ‘C-can I do anything for you, Exarch-Commissar?’

  Silverdust wanted to laugh at hearing such a title.

  Fetch me tea from the kitchen and instruct the cooks to make a fine stew – one fit for an Envoy. Go now and do not delay.

  The boy pushed his fringe out of his eyes and raced out of Felgenhauer’s office as fast as he could. His office – not Felgenhauer’s office, Silverdust lamented, not any more. The boy departed with such haste he failed to close the door behind him, giving Silverdust a clear view to the antechamber beyond and the doorway that led to the stairwell. He spread his hands on the wide featureless table, waiting to meet the person he would have to spin a web of lies to.

  The Envoy, when she arrived, appeared in the antechamber sheathed in blue silk with a stole made from a winter fox, the fur white and stark. Her smile was bitter and she sauntered into the room with a swagger that was almost theatrical.

  ‘Silverdust. There you are! Well, I thought I’d suffered a setback or two, but it seems Vladibogdan has endured nothing less than a c
atastrophe.’

  Silverdust rose from his chair and bowed deeply. Now wasn’t the time for petty acts of ignored etiquette.

  Envoy de Vries. We are honoured by your presence. How fares the Empire?

  De Vries approached the office door, a circular portal, and made herself a work of art, leaning casually on the door frame.

  ‘The Empire is strong as ever, dearest Silverdust, but her forces.’ Envoy de Vries pursed her lips and tutted. ‘Shirinov and Khigir both dead, I hear. And a half dozen other members of the Holy Synod. And your precious Felgenhauer …’ The Envoy sighed and looked away as if she had become distracted, though Silverdust knew full well she was waiting for his reaction. He gave her none and the silence stretched between them until the Envoy turned to face him once more.

  How may I serve, Envoy de Vries?

  ‘So inscrutable, Silverdust. So mysterious.’ The Envoy slunk into the room and sat down, putting her feet up on the desk. ‘What is it you actually do on this island, Exarch?’

  I serve at the Emperor’s pleasure. Silverdust did not sit. He could sense Father Orlov waiting on the staircase, out of sight, yet close enough to eavesdrop. Silverdust could practically feel the man straining to hear, though the conversation would be one-sided due to his reliance on telepathy.

  ‘You don’t teach’ – the Envoy counted off on her fingers – ‘you don’t run the stores, you don’t organise the soldiers. You don’t perform any role or task as far as I can see.’

  I am old. Felgenhauer, in her mercy, let me retire here. Not true, of course. Silverdust had carefully delegated more and more of his teaching duties until none remained.

  ‘I see,’ said the Envoy. ‘Well, Felgenhauer, in her mercy, gave me the slip while I was escorting her back to our beloved Emperor.’

  How very unfortunate, Envoy de Vries.

  ‘Indeed.’ She forced a smile that could curdle milk. ‘The Emperor is very keen to hear what manner of events were taking place here on Vladibogdan leading to the uprising.’

  He has always been the most curious soul. He was also impatient and bloodthirsty and petty, but Silverdust declined to mention this.

  ‘It seems the Emperor should have heeded Shirinov’s repeated requests, official and otherwise, for an audience.’

  You would need to speak to Shirinov regarding his grievances. He never shared his concerns with me.

  The Envoy stood and slammed her palm on the desk, but Silverdust did not flinch.

  ‘Shirinov is dead! And here you are, a supposed-retired Exarch, running Vladibogdan. What the Hel happened here? Who is Steiner Vartiainen, and why were you seen speaking with him after the uprising here?’ She leaned over the desk, struggling to keep her composure.

  I stand behind this desk for no other reason than Father Orlov asked me to. Felgenhauer had some attachment to the boy, a boy without witchsign no less. He was brought here by mistake. Silverdust leaned over the desk, looming taller than the Envoy. Brought here by Shirinov’s mistake. The boy was sent to work in the forges and somehow entered into an agreement with the cinderwraiths. They massacred the soldiers and then the Vartiainen boy took wing on a dragon. He returned with a ship and took off with two dozen novices and most of our food. The ship sank in bad weather no more than two miles after they set out.

  Envoy de Vries straightened up, adjusted her stole and smoothed back her hair. She stared at Silverdust for long moments then smiled, before giggling. Before long she had slipped into the chair, laughing uncontrollably. She all but shouted when her laughter stopped.

  ‘He left the island on a fucking dragon!’

  Silverdust said nothing. The silence was interrupted as the waif entered the room and set the tray of food and tea down on the desk.

  ‘Well, I can’t fault your hospitality, Silverdust,’ said the Envoy as she lifted the lid of a small ceramic pot to reveal the stew inside. ‘Even if your storytelling leaves much to be desired.’

  What happens now? He barely needed to ask. Silverdust could sense the Envoy’s thoughts and knew full well what she would say next.

  ‘We leave in the morning. You are to give a full account of the uprising here to the Emperor himself at Khlystburg. I failed him once by letting Felgenhauer slip through my grasp. You’ – she pointed at Silverdust with her fork – ‘will appear at the Imperial Court even if I have to chain you and drag you before the Emperor on a leash.’

  There will be no leashes, Envoy. I will present myself to the Emperor willingly.

  Envoy de Vries shook her head and began to eat. Silverdust said nothing more, lost to his thoughts, imagining how he might kill the Emperor before his courtiers.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Steiner

  ‘I’m looking for a man called Tikhoveter,’ said Marek to the barkeeper. They had left the Watcher’s Wait shortly after Kimi, and Marek had led them from tavern to tavern since. Steiner was pleasantly muddled by the ale and stole kisses from Kristofine whenever his father wasn’t looking. They were sitting in the snug in a dimly lit tavern called the Silvered Palm while Steiner’s father spoke to the man at the bar.

  ‘Don’t you think it strange … Hoy! Stop that,’ said Kristofine. She moved away from where Steiner had been nuzzling her neck. ‘Strange? What’s strange?’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s strange that your father wanted to come ashore for something decent to eat and yet all he does is drink with the locals and chat with them about an old friend of his?’

  Steiner shrugged. ‘What’s strange is that we don’t just leave him to it and book that room. Get ourselves some of that privacy you were speaking about back on the ship …’

  Kristofine half-smiled, half-pouted, then shook her head. ‘I need you to think with your head, not your britches. What’s your father up to?’

  ‘I’m not one to sit around guessing. Why don’t we just ask him? Here he comes.’

  Marek’s expression was serious as he took a seat in the snug. He stared into the bottom of his mug for a moment, then flicked his gaze up to Steiner.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Are you going to tell us who this Tikhoveter is then? You’ve been talking about him with just about everyone else here. Why not us?’

  Marek snorted a laugh. ‘You’ve always been one to speak your mind, but those three mugs of ale have really loosened your tongue.’

  ‘He has a point, Marek,’ said Kristofine, her tone placating. ‘He’s curious. I’m curious. Who is it you’re looking for?’

  ‘I knew a man once. Not a Vigilant, but a man who could hear whispers on the wind and send words of his own. A messenger of sorts.’

  ‘Whispers on the wind,’ said Steiner with a frown. ‘That’s a trick of the wind school. You’re talking about someone from Academy Vozdukha.’

  ‘That’s who I’m looking for, but it’s been years since I was here and I’ve no way of knowing if he’s still alive or which side he’s on.’

  ‘Sides?’ Kristofine rolled her eyes. ‘What sides?’

  ‘There’s the Empire,’ said Marek. ‘And then there’s everyone else.’

  Steiner stood up from the table. ‘I want to meet this old friend of yours. I’m going to need all the information I can get if I’m going to keep my promise to Kimi.’

  ‘I don’t understand how you’re supposed to protect the Yamali people when we’re on the other side of the continent,’ said Kristofine.

  ‘I’m hoping that if I create a big enough distraction in the west the Emperor will be too busy to send troops to the east.’ Steiner threw back the last of his ale. ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘I managed to get an old address.’ Marek eased out of his chair and didn’t look hopeful. ‘We’ll have to hope Tikhoveter still lives there.’

  It was just starting to rain as they stepped outside the tavern and a deep chill settled over Virag, numbing Steiner’s fingers. Kristofine huddled close to him and he flashed her a smile and squeezed her waist.

  ‘So you’re a lusty drunk then?’ she said wit
h a smile of her own.

  ‘Better that than maudlin or violent, I suppose.’ Steiner chuckled. Marek walked ahead, keeping a keen eye out for Imperial soldiers.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’ said Kristofine. Something was clearly on her mind from the way she chewed at her lip. ‘About the island, I mean?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘When you destroyed the Ashen Torment it set the cinderwraiths free.’

  ‘That’s right. They were no longer bound to the island, free to pass on to the afterlife.’

  ‘So why didn’t Silverdust go with them?’ Steiner thought on that for a moment as they walked the streets of Virag, following Marek in the rain.

  ‘He said he was going to stay on at Vladibogdan.’ Steiner thought of the strange Vigilant and his mirror mask. ‘He was going to stay there and lie for me, buy me time before the Empire found out what happened on the island.’

  ‘Will it work?’

  ‘Who knows?’ said Steiner, his mouth twisting unhappily. ‘The Empire has powers I can’t begin to guess at. Will the lies of one Vigilant make a difference? I hope so. Strange old thing that he is.’

  ‘You miss him?’ she asked, as the rain continued to fall.

  ‘I can’t say I really knew him, but I owe that old ghost a lot. I can’t say I’m happy that we left him on Vladibogdan now that I think about it.’

  Marek pressed on through streets that grew more narrow and winding with each mile. The rain and the cold were sobering and Steiner grew tired and irritated in equal measure.

  ‘Slow down, old man,’ he growled, but Marek didn’t hear him.

  ‘Are we avoiding the main roads so we don’t get caught?’ asked Kristofine when they reached an abandoned alley thick with shadows and refuse.

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Marek, stopping outside a narrow townhouse with a battered front door. He beat the wood with a scarred fist and looked over his shoulder. ‘Keep an eye out for soldiers. The Empire might be watching this place.’