Not that the queen could have taken the Illmoor Fortress so easily. Not once in centuries had its walls been breached. It was just…better to be prudent when Amina was involved. The warrior queen had a reputation for achieving the impossible.
Shivering, Erika focused her attention on the Goddess. She still wore her manacles, though this pair had apparently been permanently welded shut to ensure she did not pick the lock again.
“Humanity is desperate, Cara,” Erika said after a moment. “Surely you’ve seen that?”
They were sitting on the benches on either side of the raised bow, Erika’s customary position when setting sail. She enjoyed the feeling of journey it brought, of heading off to explore unknown lands, to discover fresh secrets of the ancient world. It was the elation of discovery that had led her to become an Archivist in the first place.
“And you think my people will help when you show up on their doorstep with their daughter in chains?” Cara asked pointedly.
Erika sighed. “What have we got left to lose?” she replied. “You won’t help us, won’t show us the way. So we have to use you as a bargaining chip.”
“You don’t have to do anything, Erika,” Cara said, turning away. “You chose to attack me, to kidnap me, to give me to the king. All of this is by your own choice.”
“The queen wanted me dead,” Erika rasped, though the words seemed inadequate now, and she found her gaze drawn again to the gauntlet encasing her hand.
“Maybe you deserve it,” Cara snapped.
Erika found herself nodding. “Maybe,” she replied.
Silence answered her reply. When she finally looked up, Erika found the Goddess staring at her, lips turned down in a frown.
“I’m sorry,” Erika croaked finally. “None of this makes sense to me, Cara. Ever since I uncovered this gauntlet, since I discovered that map, it feels as though I’ve been cast adrift. I’m barely keeping my head above the water—and now the tide is coming in.”
Cara said nothing, only stared back at her, amber eyes unreadable. Erika let out a sigh and rested her head back against the bulwark. Above, the sky was an endless blue, barely marked by a single cloud.
“Why are you here, Cara?” she whispered finally.
“Good question,” the Goddess replied archly. “I think I mentioned something about a kidnapping…”
“I meant, why has a God returned to the lands of humanity?”
The Goddess did not reply immediately, and when she did speak, the words were whispered: “It was…an accident.” Erika looked sharply at Cara and was surprised to see her cheeks had coloured. “I’m not meant to be here,” she added, her voice becoming hoarse.
“What?” Erika asked. “How is that possible?”
Cara shrugged. “I’m, err…somewhat of a rebel.” The Goddess offered a sheepish smile. “We aren’t allowed to leave the mountains, according to the Elders, but…” She trailed off, a tinge of anger appearing in her eyes. “I mean, how would you feel, being able to soar through the clouds, go wherever you want…but not having the freedom to do it?”
“I…ah, the Elders?”
Cara scowled. “My family, you might say…” She hesitated. “It’s not like I haven’t done it before,” she mumbled. “Only this time…”
“You were attacked by the Tangata,” Erika surmised, remembering Romaine’s story. “He said…you had a broken arm?” She frowned. “But…you fought off dozens of the Tangata on the Illmoor. How could two have done anything to hurt you, even with your injury?”
“It wasn’t just my arm that was broken,” Cara replied, her face losing some of its colour. “I…fell.” A shudder ran through the diminutive figure. “That’s never happened before.”
“You fell?” Erika asked softly.
“There was a snowstorm,” Cara answered shortly, then paused before going on: “I was caught in it on the way home, it drove me out of the sky. Before I knew how low I was…the tree came out of nowhere! My wing…” Her voice grew taut, as though she were remembering some terrible pain. “I almost passed out from the pain. And then those Tangata caught my scent.”
Erika shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense; why would the Tangata follow you? Why stay in Fogmore? Why come with us to Calafe?”
“I stayed because they were kind,” Cara whispered. “Because I wanted to help Romaine and Lukys and all the others. Because I wanted to help you.”
The intensity in Cara’s voice forced Erika to look away. Her gaze fell upon the sailors moving below, on the soldiers as they lounged about the deck, the packs of supplies and weapons. The sight reminded her briefly of her other expedition under Flumeeren rule, the miserly supplies and poorly trained recruits that had been sent to protect her. There could be no comparison to the preparations Nguyen had made for her, to the bearded veterans that would march with them.
But…could she trust them? Lukys and the Perfugians might not have been the most skilled of warriors, but they had been earnest, without a bone of treachery in their bodies. And Romaine, Cara—they had volunteered to come, despite the danger. These men and women, how far would their loyalty to the king stretch, when faced with the dangers in the Mountains of the Gods?
“I think they’re desperate as well,” Cara said suddenly.
Frowning, Erika looked across at the Goddess, but her gaze was on the open plateaus. “Who’s desperate?”
“The Tangata,” Cara replied, meeting Erika’s eyes now.
“The Tangata?” Erika shook her head. “Desperate? I doubt that. They’ve enjoyed a decade of victories against our forces, taken an entire kingdom from the hands of humanity. What do they have to be desperate about?”
“I don’t know,” the Goddess said, “but I could sense it in their voices when they chased me, when they tried to capture me on the banks of the Illmoor.”
Erika blinked. There was a lot to unpack in the Goddess’s statement. “Their voices?” she started, before adding: “They were trying to capture you?”
Cara smiled. “You know, for an intellectual, you’re not the most observant.” She hesitated, before continuing. “They’re afraid of something, the Tangata.”
“Fear?” Erika snorted at that. “You think that was fear?”
The Goddess stared back at her, those amber eyes seemingly aglow in the morning light. Finally Erika swallowed and changed the subject. “Why would they want to capture you?”
The way the Tangata had launched themselves at Cara, it had not seemed like the creatures were interested in taking the Goddess prisoner. And yet…there had been a moment when Cara had been knocked to the ground, pinned beneath a horde of the creatures. Surely then one of the creatures could have managed a fatal blow…
“I don’t know,” Cara replied with a shrug. “There is much about their people I do not understand.”
“Maybe they wanted to capture your magic?” Erika suggested. After all, that was how the Tangata had first been born.
“My magic?” Cara looked at her blankly. “Whatever…power I have, they could not take it. I don’t think.”
Erika let out a long breath, turning her memories of the battle over again in her mind, trying to piece together the clues. But recalling the fight, another thought occurred to her.
“Why didn’t you kill them?” she asked, running her hand over the metallic links of her gauntlet. “I didn’t think much of it at the time…but the Tangata you struck all got back up.”
Cara bit her lip, suddenly looking nervous. Rubbing her shoulder, she looked away, and Erika didn’t think she was going to answer.
“My people…do not kill,” Cara croaked finally.
“What?” Erika frowned. “But you killed those…things in the caverns.”
A visible shudder shook Cara and she hugged her knees to her chest. “Please…don’t remind me.”
Erika was about to press the matter when she noticed Cara’s face had lost all colour. Whatever had happened in the caverns of the Gods, it had shaken Cara just as muc
h as Erika and the others. At least Cara’s claim helped Erika make sense of why she hadn’t tried to kill them at the earliest opportunity.
Letting out a sigh, she let the subject drop. Silence fell between them, and finally Erika rose. “You’ll stay here?”
The hardness returned to Cara’s eyes as she looked up. “Not like I have any choice.”
Erika’s stomach twisted, but there was no correcting the situation now. Without anything else to offer, she left Cara where she sat. The ship rocked beneath Erika’s feet as she crossed the deck, searching for Maisie, finding her at the tiller with the captain. Sails cracked overhead as she wandered towards them, the ship surprisingly steady beneath her feet. But then, the river was smooth today, with hardly a ripple to impede their passage.
Maisie waved as she saw Erika approaching and stepped away from the captain, nodding her thanks, then beckoned Erika across to the railings. Joining her, Erika leaned against the bulwark and looked out across the empty plains. The lands of Gemaho were said to be as large as the other three kingdoms combined. Without the threat of the Tangata, it was difficult to imagine how such a kingdom had united beneath a single ruler—and had remained that way down through the centuries.
“Why are we doing this?” Erika said suddenly. Regardless of her assertions to Cara, she still found herself doubting their path, not sure whether what they did was best for humanity, or if it was for her own personal gain.
The spy flashed her a glance. “The world is changing, Erika,” she murmured, her words so soft as to be barely audible over the cursing of the sailors. “Magic has fallen again into the hands of mankind and ancient creatures walk the earth. A new age is approaching for humanity.”
“Assuming we survive,” Erika snorted.
“We’re a resilient species,” Maisie replied. “Here in Gemaho, we have watched the war from afar, read the reports. You think you’re losing, but each battle costs the Tangata more in blood. Ten years ago, when the war first began, we lost five soldiers for every Tangata we slew. Nowadays the number is down to three.”
Erika frowned; she hadn’t heard that piece of information. What would cause such a change? She supposed it made sense; over ten years, humanity had come to learn the enemy’s tactics. But even so, Maisie’s numbers still meant they were significantly outmatched. “That doesn’t mean we can defeat them,” she argued.
“Perhaps not yet,” the spy mused. “Regardless, it is the magic of the Gods that will determine our future. Imagine a hundred soldiers equipped with gauntlets like yours, or an army wielding orbs like mine, able to march under a blanket of invisibility.”
Erika looked self-consciously at her gauntlet. “It would be an edge,” she admitted. “That was why I went looking for their magic in the first place. But do you think the Gods will just give us such weapons?”
Maisie shrugged. “I do not know.” She looked at Erika then, and her face was grim. “But I do know that whoever is first to gain their power will do more than just defeat the Tangata. Whoever controls that magic, controls the world.”
A shiver ran down Erika’s spine. “Then why would Nguyen give away his gauntlet?”
A smile tugged at Maisie’s lips. “Nguyen is cunning; he knows how it will play with the queen’s mind. And besides, one device will not change either kingdom’s fate.”
Erika eyed the woman, wondering how much truth there was to her words. “And what of Nguyen? Do you believe the king is worthy of the power you would place in his hands?”
All sense of mirth slipped from the spy’s face as she looked at Erika. “Would you prefer the power fell into the hands of your queen?”
“Of course not,” Erika said, pursing her lips.
Maisie nodded, turning her eyes to the water passing below. “He’s a practical man, Nguyen. He does what he must, but he is never cruel or vindictive.” She sighed. “And there is a kindness in him that few ever see.”
Erika snorted.
“You don’t believe me?” Maisie murmured. “I don’t blame you—he hides it well.” She hesitated, the breeze whistling through the rigging overhead. “I was a street rat once,” Maisie said, her voice so soft Erika almost missed her words. “Years ago, before the war began. Belonged to one of the gangs in the capital. I was just a child. Nguyen found me, saved me. Even trusted me with his magic.”
The spy looked at Erika then, and she glimpsed something in her eyes, something beyond the respect or even loyalty she professed. Love, perhaps? Maisie looked away again quickly, as though realising she had revealed something secret. Her hands tightened on the bulwark, her knuckles turning pale.
“Eventually, you’ll have to make a choice, Erika,” she said softly.
“I thought I already had.”
The spy laughed. “You chose Nguyen out of self-interest. One day, though, you’ll have to choose someone to put your faith in, without regard for what they can give you. Regardless of what it might cost.”
With that, the spy pushed away from the railings. Offering Erika a nod, she wandered away. Alone now with her thoughts, Erika stared down at the swirling currents, and wondered when her life had become so complicated.
17
The Tangata
Adonis sucked in a lungful of air as the wave swept towards him. A second later the white waters washed over his head, plunging him into the swirling depths. With a powerful kick he fought the currents, struggling to rise to the surface. Sound came rushing back as he burst again into open air and dragged in another breath.
The water lifted him as the next wave rushed past and he scanned the way ahead, desperate for a glimpse of the island. Surely it couldn’t be far now. Through the surging harbour he thought he caught a flash of rock, but it was difficult to make out, still so far, so far…
Forward!
He kicked out again, sending silent encouragement to his brothers and sisters. They would make it—they were Tangata after all, not some weak humans to fail against the raging of mother earth. The storm might hurl its strength against them, but the Tangata would endure, just as they had for centuries.
Roaring against the swirling clouds above, Adonis fought on, and was finally rewarded with a view of the island. Sheer cliffs rose from the seas ahead, stretching high above, a small ledge of shore beckoning them on.
Still so far, though. They probably should have waited out the storm, Adonis knew. The Matriarch’s need was urgent, but while he and his warrior pairs could survive the crossing, they needed their strength for what lay ahead. Adonis had not forgotten what had transpired in the last Birthing Ground they had uncovered. The unbridled rage of the Old Ones had been terrifying to behold. Whatever the Matriarch said, he could not dismiss his reservations about her plan.
The Old Ones were not Tangata, not as they had been since The Fall. They were something else, something that might save his species—or perhaps might doom them all.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on Adonis by the time he finally pulled himself ashore, the pain of endless hours spent on the move. He had pushed his brethren hard to reach this remote outpost, travelling day and night at a pace that would have broken lesser creatures. But Adonis was of the third generation, and those warrior pairs he had chosen were of the fourth. They relished the challenge.
It pained him to learn this Birthing Ground had been here all along, hidden in the Tangata’s own territory. Their plight would have ended long ago had they uncovered the Old Ones sooner.
But he was getting ahead of himself. Despite the Matriarch’s hopes and his own fears, it was unlikely anything remained of this place. The Birthing Ground might have gone undiscovered all these years, but that did not mean the Old Ones slumbered here too. The ones they had woken in northern Calafe could have been the last…
Despite his orders, Adonis felt himself hoping that was true.
One by one, his warrior pairs emerged from the waters. Adonis had lost his own partner years ago, but had resisted swearing himself to an assignment. The thought of spendin
g so much time amongst humans made his skin crawl. The creatures were loud and undisciplined, and the images he’d glimpsed in the mind of Lukys only added to his distaste. Unfortunately, the Matriarch would not tolerate his disobedience much longer, despite his parentage.
Not unless he found another way.
In silence, he and his followers left the sandy shores. Each of his five pairs carried a great hammer between them—they would need the tools should they find the entrance sealed. Behind them, the ocean continued to rage, the crack of thunder echoing from the nearby cliffs. Sand gave way to gravel beneath their feet and ahead, Adonis’s sharpened vision spotted a goat track leading up between the escarpments.
Adonis picked up his pace, making for the track. He did not know where on the island they would find the entrance to the Birthing Ground, but the view from up high would give them somewhere to start.
The others followed, their inner voices silenced. This was holy ground, one of the hidden sites from which their ancestors were said to have first emerged. He could sense their doubts. Some had been with him when they’d freed the Old Ones before. They had witnessed the madness in the eyes of those creatures, had experienced the same feeling of powerlessness as their fellows were slaughtered. Against the Old Ones, his people might as well have been humans, for all their powers aided them.
Adonis slowed as they reached the top of the track, taking a moment to recover his breath as he scanned the area atop the cliffs. Before him the ground flattened out into a plateau of unnaturally smooth stone—a sure sign that one of the ancient sites had once occupied this island. The hairs on the back of Adonis’s neck tingled at the sight. There could be no doubt now.
Spread out, he ordered as the others joined him. Seek the entrance.
Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II Page 13
