The Sword Of Angels (Gollancz S.F.)

by John Marco

  ‘Apologies,’ said Lukien. ‘I didn’t know. In Grimhold, where I come from, the Akari speak to the people. They have hosts, like me, and they live in the world.’ He gestured to the dark landscape and stars. ‘This world.’

  The news enchanted Raivik. His face grew curious, then sad as he touched his story stone. ‘The people of Grimhold were slaughtered by the Jadori. They were among the first to die. Some of us could put ourselves into objects, but they were the summoners. Only the strongest of summoners, in fact.’ He reached out and nearly touched Lukien, letting his fingers hover over his chest. ‘This amulet you wear – it holds a summoner.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Lukien. At last he pulled the Eye of God out from under his shirt, letting it dangle freely on its golden chain. ‘The Akari inside this amulet keeps me alive. He was a great summoner named Amaraz. Do you know of him?’

  Raivik the dead merchant smiled. ‘May I touch it?’

  Lukien nodded, and Raivik carefully held the amulet in his dream-made hands. A look of serenity filled his eyes.

  ‘I can feel him,’ he said. ‘He is very strong.’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ said Lukien. ‘I should have been dead a long time ago, many times, but Amaraz keeps me going. I have been told he was well known among your people.’

  ‘Indeed he was,’ said Raivik, ‘but I knew of him only through the stories I was told, here in this place. Amaraz lived after I died. I never knew him in life.’

  ‘And so you don’t know what else happened? After the Jadori killed your people, I mean?’

  ‘No, stranger, I do not.’ Raivik rose from his knees. ‘I know only what my family told me when they visited this place. Now they are with me in the world beyond this one. They are ignorant, like me.’ He looked imploringly at Lukien. ‘But you know all these things. You can tell me, Lukien, so that I may tell the others. Will you do that?’

  Lukien laughed. ‘That’s a lot of history to explain, Raivik. And really, I don’t know much about your world. I do know that the Jadori have changed. They regret what they did to your people. They protect the people who live in Grimhold now. They’re called the Inhumans. I’m one of them, in a way.’

  ‘These Inhumans – they have Akari hosts?’

  ‘Many of them do, yes. They’re good people and the Akari help them. And because of what they did to your race, the Jadori protect Grimhold from the outside world. Once it was a secret, but no more.’ Lukien hesitated, unsure how much he should reveal. ‘The rest of the world knows about Grimhold now, but the Jadori still protect it. They’ve given a lot of blood for Grimhold, Raivik.’

  ‘Amazing,’ sighed the spirit. ‘I want to hear more, Lukien. I want to know everything!’

  ‘I don’t know everything, Raivik. I barely understood the things you told me, even. I’m not an expert on the Akari of Grimhold, or even about the Jadori.’ Lukien tried to be congenial, noting the change in Raivik’s expression. ‘I am sorry. I didn’t mean to summon you, though I am glad that I did. I didn’t expect to encounter anyone in the city.’

  ‘But you did come here,’ said Raivik. His curious eyes searched Lukien’s face. ‘Why?’

  Lukien wandered back to the place where he had been sleeping, the place where – in the waking world – his body still lay asleep. ‘That’s rather hard to explain, Raivik. I’m looking for a place called the Serpent Kingdom.’

  When he turned around again, Raivik was right behind him. ‘I know this place you seek,’ he said eagerly. ‘The Kingdom of the Serpents – Tharlara.’

  ‘I don’t know what it’s real name is,’ said Lukien. ‘I was only told to seek the Serpent Kingdom. Here, beyond the desert.’

  ‘There is only one place that could be called the Serpent Kingdom, and that is Tharlara,’ said Raivik. ‘The place of the giant snakes. The riverland.’

  ‘Giant snakes?’ Lukien recoiled. ‘You mean rass?’

  ‘Yes, the rass,’ acknowledged Raivik. His glowing hand pointed eastward. ‘You will find a river beyond the city. The river will take you to Tharlara.’

  ‘Toward the rass? I don’t know . . .’

  ‘Tharlara is safe for you, Lukien. The people there will not harm you. They are quiet, though, and I do not know much about them.’

  ‘Forgive me, Raivik, but you’ve been dead for . . . what? About a thousand years? You don’t know much more about the Serpent Kingdom than I do.’

  The Akari looked wounded, but nodded. ‘You are right, of course. I can only tell you what I remember. The Tharlarans were never bothersome to us, though they did not trade much with us, either. They kept to themselves. I do not know what became of them.’

  ‘You’ve already helped me greatly, Raivik,’ said Lukien. ‘I’m grateful to you. I will follow the river as you have said.’

  ‘Forgive me, but I am curious. For what purpose?’ asked Raivik. ‘Why do you seek Tharlara?’

  ‘For a sword,’ said Lukien. He sat down again on his bedroll, remarkably calm despite the strange happenings. ‘I was told I could find it in the Serpent Kingdom.’

  ‘This is a special sword?’

  ‘Very. I need it to defeat someone, someone dear to me that’s been corrupted by a bad Akari.’

  ‘Bad Akari?’ Raivik’s eyes crinkled playfully. ‘There are no bad Akari, my friend. We are a great race. You must have discovered that by now.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Lukien. ‘Your people have impressed me, Raivik. But there is one Akari that’s not like the rest of you. Have you ever heard the name Kahldris?’

  The spirit paled. ‘Kahldris.’ He spat the name like a curse. ‘Kahldris was a madman and butcher. He is not to be spoken of, Lukien.’

  ‘Kahldris has my friend in his control, Raivik. With his Devil’s Armour.’ Lukien leaned forward. ‘Do you know about the armour?’

  ‘All Akari know of the Devil’s Armour. It is an obscenity. Kahldris is part of the armour. He is encased in it, the way your Akari is encased inside your amulet. Kahldris made the armour for his brother, Malator, to use against the Jadori.’

  Lukien’s eyebrows went up. ‘Malator? You do know a lot about the armour!’

  ‘It is known among us all,’ said Raivik. ‘The armour was taken to Grimhold to be hidden, so that no one would ever use it.’

  ‘That’s right. That much I know already. Please, Raivik, tell me more.’

  ‘Kahldris lived in the time of the Jadori wars. He was a general. He fought the Jadori.’

  ‘After you died?’ asked Lukien.

  Raivik nodded. ‘Kahldris lived while I lived and beyond. I left this world before he did. My people were at war with the Jadori for years, Lukien. Kahldris and his brother battled them.’

  ‘This brother – Malator. I never heard of him,’ said Lukien, surprised that Minikin had never mentioned his name. ‘Tell me about him.’

  ‘Malator was a good man, not like his brother. But he was strong like Kahldris. He was a powerful summoner. When Kahldris made the armour, it was so that his brother might use it to defeat the Jadori. But Kahldris was already a butcher by then.’ Raivik closed his eyes in revulsion. ‘You would not the believe the stories of his brutality. Malator told his brother that he would wear the armour, but only so Kahldris would encase himself within it.’

  ‘Which he did,’ offered Lukien. ‘So it was a trick?’

  ‘Yes. Once Kahldris was encased in the armour he was no longer a threat. All Akari rejoiced when he was gone.’

  ‘And then the armour was moved to Grimhold, so that no one would ever use it.’ Lukien considered the logic of the move. ‘So what happened to Malator?’

  ‘I do not know. Nobody knows. Like you, he went off to seek the Serpent Kingdom, to ask the Tharlarans for their help against the Jadori. He never returned, though. Not long after . . .’ Raivik looked around and shrugged. ‘All of this happened.’

  There was a sad pause in Raivik’s story, as if there was no more to tell. But Lukien still wanted answers.

  ‘Raivik, how ca
n it be that none of your people know where Malator is now? He must have died not long after you did. Yet you’ve never felt his presence? None of you have?’

  ‘It is not always that way, Lukien. If Malator wanted to come to us, then perhaps he could. I do not know for certain. I dwell in the world of the dead. Malator dwells in the world of the dead, too. But he need not come to me, or seek out another. His place is not my place. It is as I told you – I am bound to my world. I see my family and loved ones because they are part of me. They lived here, in my house. Do you see?’

  Lukien tried gamely to understand, but it was all too arcane for him. He knew only that Malator had left for Tharlara, and that no one had ever heard from him again. At least not according to Raivik. And should he believe this long dead apparition? Lukien wasn’t sure.

  ‘Everything you’ve told me is like a huge text, Raivik,’ he admitted. ‘And I’m not studied enough to understand it all.’ Suddenly he felt the pull of his physical body, urging him to return. ‘I can’t stay much longer. Something doesn’t feel right.’

  ‘Your body is waking,’ said Raivik. ‘It is unused to all of this.’

  ‘This dream has to end,’ said Lukien. ‘You have to let me go now, Raivik.’

  The Akari smiled sadly. ‘I have so enjoyed this, Lukien of Liiria. To talk to someone about the world – it has been magnificent. I wish you could stay forever and talk to me, but I know you cannot.’

  Lukien shared the spirit’s remorse. He regretted having tantalized Raivik with the small gift of his presence. ‘Maybe we will see each other again someday,’ he said. ‘If I find the sword, I can return this way, perhaps.’

  ‘I would like that,’ said Raivik. ‘There is so much I want to know about the world. I miss it. Now, remember, my friend – follow the river.’

  ‘I will,’ replied Lukien, fighting to stay in the dream. The world around him began to dissolve, the house and trees slowly melting. ‘Thank you, Raivik. You have helped me a great deal.’

  Raivik, the dead merchant of Kaliatha, raised a hand in good-bye as he shimmered out of view. A second later, Lukien felt his body again, falling into blackness before consciousness arrived. His eye fluttered open, feeling heavy and real. He saw the stars above, felt the cool air on his face. He breathed, sat up, and looked around the empty garden.

  Without Raivik, the city seemed more dead than ever.

  5

  ‘Lady White-Eye, will you come?’

  The question lingered a long time, ignored as White-Eye distracted herself. She had not expected the invitation. She had thought – hoped, in fact – that her fellow Inhumans had given up asking her. She pretended to toy with the spinning wheel Minikin had given her, though she still did not know how to use it and hadn’t really tried. It was work to keep her mind busy, after all, and distract her from her loss. She shrugged as she sat on the stool, pretending to move the wheel with her hand.

  ‘I am just learning this, Monster,’ she replied. ‘Tomorrow perhaps.’

  The man called Monster inched a bit closer. White-Eye heard his shuffling feet on the stone of her chamber. She was completely blind now, and without her Akari could not see his chiseled face, a face she had always found comforting and oddly handsome. Monster, who was hunch-backed, had served her for years. His forwardness surprised her.

  ‘My lady, I should reconsider if I were you. You have not been down to see any of us in weeks. You are missed.’

  White-Eye frowned. It was the same thing Minikin had been telling her. Since her blinding, she had spent precious little time out of her chambers, taking her meals alone and speaking to no one. Losing her Akari had not been what she expected. It had been far, far worse, and White-Eye had not recovered from the violence of it or been able to understand the crushing blankness of the truly blind. She had not been born with normal eyes. Instead, she had two milky, sightless orbs, but Faralok had showed her the world with his Akari magic, saving her from a life of walking into walls. Without him, blackness had enveloped her. Every sound, strange and familiar, made her fearful.

  ‘You should get downstairs, Monster, before all the food is gone or cold.’

  She didn’t like refusing him, but there was no choice for her. She was a shut-in now, and too old to learn the ways of the blind. She would not have them all staring, pitying her.

  ‘Will you sup alone again, then?’ Monster probed. ‘It is not good to eat alone, my lady. My dear mother taught me that when I was just a child.’ She could hear him smile, and knew the anecdote was meant to coax her out. ‘Eating alone does strange things to the stomach, she would say. She didn’t want me to feel different from others, you see.’ Again he stepped closer, coming to stop in front of the spinning wheel. White-Eye could feel his kind eyes looking down at her. ‘It’s that way for you now, my lady. You need to be with the rest of us.’

  White-Eye felt terror knotting in her stomach. Why was he pushing her so? As kahana, she could order him away, but even that was too much for her. How could she possibly give orders now, so weak and useless she couldn’t even feed herself? She was no kahana, not any more.

  ‘I cannot, Monster,’ she said. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the desperate feelings. ‘I am not ready.’

  Monster’s face came very close to her as he whispered, ‘We are all Inhumans, my lady. This is Grimhold. No one will judge you.’

  ‘They will,’ said White-Eye. ‘They will not mean to, but they will. I do not want them to see me like this, blind and weak.’

  ‘You are afraid, I know,’ said Monster gently, ‘but I am here, right here with you. And anyone who laughs will have to deal with me!’ He punched his thumb into his chest so that White-Eye could hear the thump. ‘Now, shall you walk or will I have to carry you? I can do it, you know. Not very fitting for a Jadori kahana.’

  He was only half-joking, and White-Eye didn’t laugh. Though horribly hunched from birth, Monster’s Akari had given him amazing strength. He could easily hoist her over his shoulder and carry her down to the dining chamber. Since Lukien had gone and Gilwyn after him, Monster seemed to have pronounced himself her protector. White-Eye, though, had trouble trusting him. He was, quite probably, just one more man who would leave her.

  ‘And what will you do when I stick a fork in my eye instead of my mouth?’ she asked. ‘Make a joke to cover my clumsiness? Thank you, no.’ She went back to distracting herself with the spinning wheel, pretending to feed it wool and hoping Monster would leave. When he did not, she looked up at him again. ‘You may go now.’

  Monster hesitated. Then she felt his rough hand guiding her own, easing the strands of wool into the wheel.

  ‘You could do this if you wanted to,’ he said, ‘but you have not even tried, I can tell.’

  White-Eye froze under the accusation. She sat back on the stool, her shoulders slumping.

  ‘I did not want this thing,’ she said. ‘Minikin brought it here to distract me.’

  ‘No, to teach you,’ Monster corrected mildly. ‘Minikin knows you can do things if you will try.’

  ‘I am blind, Monster!’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ said the Inhuman evenly. ‘Does that mean you have no friends here?’

  The words struck White-Eye. She breathed to steady herself. There would be no convincing him, not this time. So she put out her hand.

  ‘Take it,’ she commanded. ‘And do not let go.’

  Monster was good to his promise. He carefully led White-Eye to the dining chamber of Grimhold, the place where the young kahana had always taken her meals and conversed with her fellow Inhumans. Tonight, the chamber was filled with familiar voices, most of which hushed when she entered. Monster ignored the silence, leading White-Eye to her familiar chair. Since losing Faralok, White-Eye had yet to be surrounded by so many people. She gripped Monster’s hand a little tighter as she took her seat.

  ‘Who is here?’ she whispered.

  ‘We’re all here, my lady,’ replied Monster.

  It was true
, White-Eye knew, because even their stares were familiar to her. Next to her, she heard Monster sit himself down. His misshapen body could not comfortably accommodate a normal chair, so he always used a stool. White-Eye put her hands down to feel the table, a sturdy slab of rectangular marble stretching out into the chamber. There were others like it in the hall, too, enough to seat hundreds of Grimhold’s odd inhabitants. White-Eye did not have to listen hard to hear them all – they’re anxious breathing assaulted her.

  ‘Welcome, my lady,’ came a sudden voice.

  White-Eye turned toward the sound, wondering who had spoken.

  ‘It’s me, Dreena,’ the voice offered.

  ‘Oh, Dreena,’ White-Eye replied. She licked her lips, feeling flushed suddenly. ‘Hello.’

  Like most of Grimhold’s people, Dreena was an Inhuman, another blind girl who Minikin had found in Farduke as a child. She was about White-Eye’s age now, but still had an Akari to help her see.

  ‘Welcome, kahana,’ said another voice, and then another and another greeted her, overwhelming White-Eye. She sat leaned back in her throne like chair, nodding as she tried to recognize the voices. Most of them were easy for her to recall; she had spent years with these people. One voice, however, remained absent. White-Eye turned to Monster.

  ‘Is Minikin here?’ she whispered.

  ‘No, my lady.’

  White-Eye frowned. ‘No? Why not?’

  The hunchback sighed before answering. ‘She has gone to Jador.’

  ‘Jador?’ White-Eye puzzled over the comment. She was kahana of Jador, but had abdicated her responsibilities now. Still, she missed her homeland and its dark-skinned people. ‘Minikin said nothing of this trip to me. Why did she go?’

  ‘I do not know, my lady. She left early this morning. She took no one with her, only Trog.’

  ‘She has gone to do my work for me,’ said White-Eye sullenly. ‘What I should be doing.’

  ‘No, my lady.’

  ‘Yes, Monster, yes,’ White-Eye insisted. ‘First I let Gilwyn take charge of Jador, and now that he is gone a foreigner is looking after Jador.’