Ashes of the Sun

by Django Wexler

  “A watch charm?” Beq said, suddenly interested. “Where did you get one of those?”

  “Not from the quartermaster, that’s for sure,” Varo said.

  “It was a gift from my mentor. He said I would have more use for it now than he would.” He sounded a little defensive and hardened his tone immediately. “Now, get some rest. We’ll move out early tomorrow morning and reach Litnin by midday.”

  Lying on her bedroll beside the softly glowing watch charm, Maya found herself too keyed up for sleep. She wasn’t worried, exactly—the charm would sound if anything came near, and even if there were plaguespawn they weren’t likely to be anything two agathia couldn’t handle. She just felt too aware, cognizant of every rustling branch and snapping twig in the forest. Stars winked at her through the gently shifting canopy.

  I wonder where Jaedia is now. It was the first time she’d been away from her mentor for years. She’d told herself she was ready, even eager to move on from the constrained life of an agathios, but now she felt like a part of her that had been tied down was flapping loose. It was made worse by the knowledge that whatever Jaedia was doing, it was certainly important and possibly dangerous. That black spider-thing… Maya shuddered at the memory of the crunch as it tore itself free from Hollis’ neck. If that’s what she’s investigating, I should be with her. She needs better backup than just Marn.

  And, of course, there were other distractions. Beq lay next to her, curled up on her side under a thin sheet, her precious spectacles set carefully beside her bedroll. Maya could hear her soft, slow breathing. She didn’t have any trouble getting to sleep. Maya wondered, idly, what would happen if she rolled over and threw her arm across the girl’s shoulders. Probably she’d think she was being attacked by a bear.

  Varo boiled tea in the morning, which Maya gulped greedily, and they broke camp and set out at a moderate pace. Fortunately, the terrain got easier as they went along, rough ground flattening out, and they made good time. When they reached the point where the little creek they’d been following emptied into a larger river, Varo checked his map and announced they were only an hour south of the village.

  “Do we have a cover story?” Maya asked as they refilled their canteens in the shallows. “Or are we going in openly?”

  “Openly, of course.” Tanax seemed genuinely puzzled. “This is the Republic. Why would we need to conceal ourselves?”

  “Jaedia says that people are usually afraid of the Order,” Maya said.

  “Typical soft Pragmatic.” Tanax gave a mirthless grin. “If they’re afraid, that’s all to the good. We’re here to investigate them for heresy and treason. A little fear might encourage the villagers to offer up the guilty more quickly.”

  Maya frowned. “Assuming there are any guilty.”

  “There will be,” Tanax said, one hand on his haken. “The Council doesn’t make mistakes in cases like this. If they’ve sent us here, there’ll be something to find.”

  He took the lead, now that they were close, the others following behind in single file and in silence. Maya wanted to ask Varo if he’d been on this sort of mission before, and whether Tanax’s approach was typical, but there was no way to speak without the other agathios overhearing. Maybe he’s right. She and Jaedia had often chased rumors to no result, but the Council presumably had higher standards for evidence. Maya touched the Thing and tried to calm her mind. Remember. I must do well here. That means doing what the Council requires.

  They passed the top of a low ridge, and the village was suddenly in sight. It was set in a fold in the land, with a stream running down the middle to feed into the river, and buildings spreading outward from it up both slopes of the gentle valley. There were perhaps fifty homes, fairly large as backcountry villages went, with a pier for a few small boats jutting out into the river at one end and terraced gardens stretching up the valley at the other. In between were haphazardly placed plaster and timber houses, with clay roofs and windows blocked by rag curtains instead of glass. Quite a few people were visible, and a small gang of chickens ran free in the street, pecking bugs out of the midden. Several loadbirds milled around in a pen by the water, owlishly watching the antics of their smaller cousins.

  A small group, headed in their direction, stopped abruptly at the sight of the four of them. There were two men and a woman, all in tough canvas trousers, heavy work shirts with rolled-up sleeves, and thick leather gauntlets. Maya guessed they were loggers; the big felling axes they carried looked more like tools than weapons. The woman’s eyes widened at the sight of two haken, and she muttered something to her companions. They tensed up, standing straighter.

  “Litnin welcomes the Twilight Order,” the logger woman said, stepping forward. “We are honored by your visit.”

  “Indeed you are,” Tanax said. He stopped in front of her and frowned at the realization that she was at least ten centimeters taller than he was.

  “Can I ask your business?” the woman said. “Is this a patrol, or—”

  “To whom am I speaking?” Tanax said.

  “My name is Kaiura Axebreaker, Centarch,” she said, bowing. Maya guessed she was in her midthirties, with tanned olive skin, thickly muscled arms, and a curly mop of gray-green hair.

  “And are you the magistrate of this village?”

  “I suppose.” Kaiura scratched the back of her neck. “I’m the one who signs the paperwork, anyway.”

  “Excellent,” Tanax said. “If you could conduct me to your residence, I would like to begin work immediately.”

  One of the other loggers started to say something, but Kaiura held up a hand to silence him.

  “Apologies, Centarch,” she said. “Can I ask what work that would be?”

  “A thorough investigation of Litnin,” Tanax said with a cold smile. “I can’t say more at this time. But I value your cooperation.”

  A little more than an hour later, Tanax was sitting in a chair at Kaiura’s kitchen table, examining a bound ledger, where, in crooked handwriting, the lives of Litnin’s people were chronicled. Maya, Beq, and Varo stood behind him, unregarded.

  “According to this, there are eighty-five adults in the village,” he said, looking up at the logger. She stood beside the table, still in her work clothes, though she’d laid aside her axe. “Is that correct?”

  “I believe so,” Kaiura said. “Though Eskin Badapple’s boy is nearly seventeen.”

  “Very well.” He spun the ledger to face her. “I will interview them in order. Can I trust you to arrange it?”

  Kaiura blinked, tugging absently at her hair. “All of them, Agathios?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t want to be less than thorough.”

  “Of course,” Kaiura echoed. She picked up the book. “Excuse me, then.”

  Tanax gave a dismissive wave. Kaiura bowed again and went out, leaving Maya and the others alone. Maya glanced at the door and lowered her voice.

  “You’re going to interview everyone?” she said.

  “If I have to.”

  “What’s the point?” Maya shook her head. “If these people weren’t terrified of us before, they certainly are now. Why would they tell you anything?”

  Tanax gave her a sidelong look. “Apparently Jaedia neglected some parts of your education. The Council will be receiving my report.”

  “Jaedia—” Maya shook her head. Jaedia would have gone straight to the inn, started buying drinks, and gotten the villagers to tell her stories. “She does things differently.”

  “I imagine.” He sighed. “While it’s not my responsibility to educate you, if you must know, this is standard procedure. A nervous subject is more likely to slip up under questioning.”

  “What, they’re going to just blurt out that they’re smuggling dhak?”

  “Of course not. But they will make mistakes in their answers, and when we compare one interview to the next, a pattern of lies will emerge, depend on it. Then we will know where to direct our investigation.”

  “And this is ho
w Dogmatics do things?” Maya said, unable to restrain herself.

  “This is how the Order does things. I suggest you learn if you ever want to get your cognomen.”

  Maya shut her mouth, biting back a sarcastic reply. Tanax turned to Beq.

  “Arcanist-Trainee, I will require your assistance taking notes. Requisition paper and ink from the villagers.”

  “Um. Yes.” Beq fiddled with her spectacles, lenses clicking back and forth. “You think there’s a store around here—”

  “Just ask for some,” Tanax said flatly. “It’s their duty under the law to provide for the Order.”

  “Right.” She gave a worried nod, glancing at Maya. “I’ll just… go do that, then.”

  “Don’t dawdle.” Tanax looked around. “I suppose you two had better keep watch outside. Make certain no one is eavesdropping, and tell Kaiura to send the interviewees in as soon as they arrive.”

  “Yes, Agathios,” Varo said. He jerked his head at Maya, who’d been biting her tongue only with difficulty.

  She glared at Tanax as Varo led her outside, not that the other agathios took any notice. Arrogant bastard. He was only a year older than her at most. Where does he get off—

  “I’m starting to understand what you mean by behaving like a typical centarch,” Maya muttered when they were in the hall.

  “Well.” Varo rubbed a hand across his bald skull. “Tanax may be a bit more snappish than most. I expect you have something to do with that.”

  “Me?” Maya said, lowering her voice only at the last moment. “What did I do to him?”

  “I’m not an expert,” Varo said, “but I know it’s rare to see two agathia from different factions on the same assignment. Probably ’cause they’d expect them to fight like cats in a sack. Maybe Tanax thinks your being here means the Council doesn’t trust him.”

  “That’s ridiculous. The Council—” Maya shook her head. “It has nothing to do with him, I’m certain.”

  “Try to explain that to him, if you get a chance.” Varo yawned. “Well, if the worst we have to deal with is Tanax being an ass, I’ll count this as one of my better assignments. Much better than the time—”

  “I can guess,” Maya said, holding up a hand.

  “Tore it right off,” Varo said, with a sad shake of his head.

  He opened the front door, which produced a couple of high-pitched squeals. Two girls, aged seven or eight, fled from where they’d been pressed against the front of the house, taking cover behind the front hedge. Maya could see several other children of various sizes waiting there, eager for a glimpse of these rare visitors.

  She stopped for a moment, affected by a sudden, powerful memory. I was playing with Gyre, and we saw a warbird coming… Her chest tightened, and her hand came up to touch the Thing.

  “You all right?” Varo said. “No good with kids?”

  “I’m… fine.” Maya shook her head. “Just memories.”

  “You come from a place like this?” he said, strolling outside.

  Maya followed, looking back at the house, which was a ramshackle two-story affair. It was built on a slope high on the hillside, giving it the look of an animal burrow, partially buried in the rocky ground. A hedge of neatly trimmed blackberry bushes demarcated a small front yard, full of blooming herbs and flowers. Around the side, a dirt paddock was occupied by the massive round shape of a vulpi terminal, its atrophied limbs receding into the rolling bloat of its fatty body, with a pair of more nimble yearlings peering out nervously from behind its bulk. Somewhere, a dog barked.

  “Not exactly like this,” Maya said. “My parents were vulpi ranchers, near Threecrowns. It was all open country—you could see for kilometers. But… not so different, really.” She glanced at Varo. “Where did you come from?”

  “Skyreach,” he said. “The bad part.”

  “I didn’t think there was a bad part of Skyreach.”

  “There’s a bad part of every city. Some of them are just better at hiding it.” He shrugged. “Took a test to get into the Order’s scouts when I was eight, with about a hundred other kids. I think I was the only one who passed.”

  “That’s quite an honor.”

  “I suppose. At the time all I knew was that it meant I wouldn’t have to worry where my next meal was coming from.” He gave Maya an odd look. “I suppose you didn’t get a choice.”

  “Not really. My parents…” If she pressed her memory, she could recall their worried faces. And Gyre was screaming. “They knew it was best for me.”

  “Of course.”

  Varo cut off and stood a little straighter as Kaiura returned, a couple of anxious villagers with her. Two of the children had also attached themselves to her, taking a hand each and trailing nervously behind her like reluctant kites.

  “These are the first two on the list, Agathios,” Kaiura said, pulling her hand away from the older girl and gesturing the villagers forward. They were an old man and a younger woman, close enough in looks that Maya guessed they were family. “Some of the others are out in the woods, or at work in the fields. I don’t know if I’ll be able to track everyone down before nightfall.”

  “Just do your best,” Maya said. She smiled at the pair, which only made them cower. “You can go inside. He just wants to ask you a few questions.”

  The two villagers bowed hastily and went in. Kaiura watched for a moment, then looked down at the children, now huddling around her legs.

  “Are they yours?” Maya said.

  Kaiura nodded. “This is Sayura and Miura. Bow to the agathios, girls.”

  The two little girls gave half-hearted bows. Maya gave them a smile, too, though it didn’t seem to help.

  “I don’t suppose you can tell me what this is about?” Kaiura said, lowering her voice. “Life has been peaceful here. We haven’t seen a Legion sweep in two years, and no one has met a plaguespawn bigger than a rat. And now…” She looked at her kitchen window.

  Maya bit her lip. Tanax is writing my report. It’s probably best not to contradict him directly. “I can’t say. But if there’s nothing wrong, I assure you that no one has anything to worry about.”

  “Of course.” Kaiura’s face was hard, but Maya could see the disappointment there. “Excuse me, Agathios. I should find the next people on your colleague’s list.”

  She turned and stalked out of the garden, the two children hurrying to keep up. On the way out she almost ran into Beq, who was hurrying in the other direction with a stack of paper and pens.

  “Sorry!” the arcanist said to Kaiura, and then again to Maya. “Sorry! That took longer than I thought. I had to go to four houses before I found one with some paper, and—”

  “You’d better go in,” Varo said. “He’s started the interviews. Best not to keep him waiting.”

  “Right!” Beq gave a shaky grin. “I’ll go and take notes, then.”

  When she was gone, Maya looked around. Apart from the gang of kids behind the hedge, there was no one else nearby.

  “So now what?” Maya said. “We just stand out here like sentries?”

  “I think that’s the idea.” Varo yawned. “I’m going to go and secure the rear of the house. There was a comfortable little hay shed that looked like it needed… guarding.” He winked at Maya. “Give a shout if you need anything, yeah?”

  Taking a nap when she was supposed to be keeping a lookout might have been a dereliction of duty, but after several hours it was starting to sound very attractive. They’d been up early that morning, and as the sun rose clear of the tree line, the day was only getting hotter. Maya had retreated to a patch of shade, which was shrinking by the minute as noon approached.

  Kaiura had returned several times, escorting families of villagers to their interviews with Tanax. The people she brought were mostly older, plus a few youths in their late teens. She explained that the day’s logging parties had already gone out, so most of the young men and women of the village wouldn’t be back until evening. That made Tanax scowl, but he had en
ough to keep him busy in the meantime.

  When she came inside for water, Maya got a glimpse of her fellow agathios, delivering crisp questions to a frightened old woman. Beq, sitting beside him, looked miserable as she scratched away at a rough sheet of paper, writing down the answers. Maya had considered offering to take turns keeping notes, but watching Beq even for a moment made it clear that was foolish—the other girl’s writing was much faster and neater. It must be something they teach the arcanists.

  Instead, Maya went back outside, huddling into the little shade that was left and watching the people of the village. After an interval, they’d emerged, cautiously, to go about the day’s business, working in their gardens and feeding animals, throwing occasional suspicious glances at Kaiura’s house. Even the children at the hedge had drifted off, apparently deciding that nothing interesting was happening after all, or else called back to do chores.

  Maya was seriously considering slipping around the back of the house to ask Varo to trade off when another face appeared at the hedge. A girl with a bright purple ponytail and a nervous expression leaned out to look at Maya, then froze when she realized Maya was looking back. Maya cleared her throat.

  “Did you need anything?” she said.

  The girl took a deep breath to steel herself and approached. She looked about thirteen, with the same golden-tanned skin most of the villagers shared. Maya smiled again, and this time it actually seemed to work. The girl gave a nervous bow.

  “H-hello.” Her eyes darted to the haken at Maya’s hip. “You’re one of the centarchs, right?”

  “I’m an agathios,” Maya said. “A centarch-in-training. My name is Maya.”

  “I’m Streza,” the girl said. “My grandmother told me not to talk to you. But…” Her lip twisted.

  “What’s wrong?” Maya said.

  “My brother’s missing,” Streza blurted. “Grandmother says he probably just tagged along with one of the logging parties, but I know he wouldn’t do that without asking. And she said not to tell anyone in the village, but you’re not from the village and Father used to say that centarchs would help anyone who needed it even if they didn’t have a reason. And—”