The Boundless

by Peter Newman

  ‘Before I came here, I was an Honoured Mother. At the same time, I was the seneschal for Lord Rochant Sapphire. Parent and leader. I did both. I will do both here. You have to understand, we are part of the Wild now. We’re living inside it. I already have relationships with demons and Dogkin.’ She bit her lip. ‘This may sound arrogant, but the more I see of the Wild, the more I think that we could do things better.’

  ‘Fuck me, you want to organize the Wild! Pari was right. You Sapphire are insane.’

  ‘I bargained for this time, Varg. I don’t intend to squander it hiding in a little hole with you. I’m going to make a life for us. A good one.’

  He sighed. ‘I must be insane too because I’m not running away. I’m never leaving you again.’

  She decided it was time to kiss him.

  And so she did.

  ‘You know, I used to hate the way Mohit smelled when he was sweaty, but I don’t mind it with you.’

  He kissed her forehead. ‘I like the way you smell.’

  ‘Even now?’

  ‘Yeah. Wish I could say the same about Glider.’

  They both laughed and Glider gave a little whine. ‘Sorry,’ she said, giving the Dogkin’s head a gentle stroke. ‘We love you too.’

  ‘Yep, we love everything about you except your farts.’

  ‘Oh, Varg!’

  ‘Come on though, those things can fell a fucking tree!’

  Glider gave a snort and tucked her nose under her tail. Her eyes were drooping with fatigue, but just before they could close, Crowflies screeched indignantly and took wing again.

  ‘Sorry, Glider,’ said Chandni, ‘we have to keep moving.’

  When they got back to the rest of the Dogkin pack, Chandni went straight to Kennelgrove, though she was careful not to look it in the eye.

  It spread its hands in a gesture of mock surprise. ‘How unexpected to see you back unharmed, unharried, and still in the same number of pieces. I am beyond happiness.’

  ‘You betrayed me!’ Crowflies cawed agreement but Kennelgrove simply laughed.

  ‘I gave a trick for a trick, all within the rules, all for the good. Like the one your feathered imp played on me.’

  ‘That was different. How would my death have helped this alliance?’

  It made a show of looking her up and down. ‘You do not seem dead to me. Did your lover not protect you as I suggested?’

  She fought to keep her expression calm. Obviously it was twisting things. It had probably hoped for Varg’s death too, but what Kennelgrove said was undeniably true. The demon took her pause for agreement.

  ‘And did you not learn something to please your prince?’

  This question also led to a frustrating answer. ‘Yes.’

  ‘What did you learn?’

  ‘That House Sapphire have lost Sagan, another of Lord Rochant’s settlements. The attack occurred in daylight. That’s never happened before, and in such numbers! It will make a tale the Story-singers will dread to voice. I don’t understand why the Deathless didn’t come to protect their people.’

  ‘Another trick, I’d wager. The blue-winged ones have flown away, lured by other bait. But there’s more, isn’t there? I see it by the wrinkling of your forehead.’

  ‘The Corpseman has changed from the stories into something new. It can fly now, and its wings have these patterns that …’

  ‘Do not speak of them. The memories are painful for poor Kennelgrove.’

  ‘Very well. I saw its army too.’

  ‘It sounds like a most useful excursion.’

  ‘I’m still angry about what you did.’

  ‘Good.’

  It took all her self control not to meet its eye with a wrathful stare. Instead, she maintained an appearance of calm and asked, ‘When are you going to restore the Dogkin to their true forms?’

  ‘It was the second thing I promised and the second thing I’ll do. First, I will treat with your prince.’

  ‘Then we should go immediately.’

  ‘We are of one mind.’

  I sincerely hope not, thought Chandni.

  Satyendra watched as Sa-at struggled to get into the armour. A day ago, he had been lord of this castle and now he was having to flee in the most ridiculous and dangerous manner. Any second, he expected someone to burst into the Chrysalis Chamber and throw them back in a cell.

  ‘I can’t reach the strap,’ said Sa-at. He’d managed to get the back plate and chest plate into the right place, but he couldn’t hold them and secure them at the same time. ‘Can you help me?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What?’

  Satyendra looked away. ‘I can’t. I don’t get along with that armour.’

  ‘This won’t work if you don’t help.’

  ‘I told you it was a stupid idea.’

  He heard Sa-at sigh. ‘What idea do you have?’

  The question made him furious because he had no ideas. The majority of the castle’s guard had been posted on the outer wall, making any escape attempts impossible.

  Sa-at was still looking at him, the wings hanging lopsided on his back. He wanted an answer Satyendra didn’t have. ‘You swore to help me escape. If you don’t have an idea, you have to do mine.’

  ‘Fine,’ he shot back. ‘I’ll help you but it’s going to cost me. You remember that.’

  Sa-at frowned. ‘You swore. That’s not my fault.’

  I hate him so much, thought Satyendra as he moved over to fix the wings back into place. They weren’t active yet. No blood had been daubed on them, but there was a dormant energy in the crystal that set his teeth on edge.

  ‘Ow!’ cried Sa-at. ‘That’s too tight.’

  ‘We don’t want those wings falling off when we’re in the sky, do we?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then they stay tight.’

  Between them, they got him into the rest of the suit. Sa-at offered his hand without hesitation for Satyendra to take some blood, and between them, they applied some to each piece. Perhaps it was because they weren’t Gardener-smiths and they didn’t know the proper way. Perhaps it was because Sa-at was not a Deathless and it needed Rochant’s blood. Perhaps it was because the armour was not fully grown. But when they were done, the armour did not glow in the way Satyendra expected.

  ‘That will have to do,’ he muttered. ‘If this ends with us leaping to our death, I’ll …’ He was going to issue some kind of threat to Sa-at, but anything he could add would be irrelevant at that point so instead he said, ‘It doesn’t matter. Wait here.’

  There were two ways out of the Chrysalis Chamber. The main door that led out into the courtyard, and a set of steps that led out onto a balcony. On hunting days, Lord Rochant would leap from there. Satyendra ran up the stairs. The doors to the balcony were made of coloured glass. They weren’t locked and he was able to slide them open with ease. The wind blew cold and bitter on his face, a welcome change from the cloying air of the chamber. He stepped out and looked down. The drop was significant. Story-singer Ban told him that when Rochant leapt, the songs of his people carried him out and over the main wall.

  I doubt the snores of a bunch of trapped merchants is going to suffice.

  He ran back down the stairs. ‘That way isn’t going to work. We need to get you onto the battlements and jump from there.’ He felt a wave of irritation. ‘This is impossible!’

  ‘I don’t care,’ said Sa-at. ‘You swore to try.’

  There was an unpleasant tingling in his stomach. Not enough to convince him that his oath was binding, but enough to make him think twice about ignoring it.

  ‘Stay here,’ he replied. ‘I’ll clear a way to the battlements. When you hear a commotion, I want you to come as fast as you can, go up the stairs to the top of the wall. I’ll be waiting for you there.’

  Satyendra checked Tal was still unconscious and then left the Chamber using the same doors they’d come in. He took in a deep breath of clean air to clear his head. There were no guards immediately between hi
m and the stairs. But he could see a hunter at the top, several others posted at nearby intervals, and a pair of guards making a circuit on this quarter of the wall.

  His mind worked quickly as he began to ascend.

  Nothing I say will persuade them to leave their posts. I have no authority any more and if they realize who I am, they’ll attack. But I refuse to die here. I refuse!

  As he got closer, he recognized the hunter. A plan formed in his mind but his feet hesitated on the steps. He didn’t know the hunter well, didn’t particularly care for him either way, but what he was about to do was horrible. Is this really who I am? A monster. Why do I have to be like this? But even as a part of him reconsidered, wanting to flee back down the steps, the other part of him began to stir.

  Satyendra lowered his head as he reached the top to keep his tattoos hidden in the shadow of his hood. ‘Excuse me, it’s Jir, isn’t it?’

  The hunter turned in surprise. He had long hair as was the fashion and it shone beautifully black in the gemslight. ‘That’s me. Do I know you?’

  ‘I’m just one of Roh’s boys,’ he replied, dipping his head even lower. ‘But I saw your partner just now. She was in the kitchens with another hunter. They were …’

  He had Jir’s attention now. ‘They were what?’

  ‘They were …’ he dragged out the moment, savouring the rising anxiety in the other man, ‘touching each other.’

  Jir ran a hand through his hair. ‘You’re sure it was her?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘No, it can’t be true.’ He looked around as if seeking confirmation from the air, then smiled. ‘That can’t be. All the hunters were posted on watch by Lord Rochant himself. You’re mistaken, boy. And if you make up lies about my partner again, I’ll give you the sharp end of my spear.’

  Satyendra risked making eye contact. ‘Begging your pardon, sir, but it wasn’t one of Lord Rochant’s, it was Zax, that big one that used to serve High Lord Yadavendra.’

  Jir’s smile vanished. None of Rochant’s hunters liked Zax. The man had kept a low profile since Yadavendra had died but he hadn’t been forgotten. The hunter snatched up his spear. ‘I’ll kill him.’

  The sense of betrayal, the hurt, it all pulsed through Satyendra’s body. But he needed more. ‘Wait, you can’t. They haven’t done anything wrong. She was willing.’ He paused again. ‘Very willing.’

  Jir no longer saw Satyendra, his eyes were staring, unfocused, imagining the worst. ‘No … No, no, no …’

  Satyendra drank in the man’s mounting despair, feeling his muscles swell and his senses sharpen. The Sapphire placed their lights so meticulously that there was nowhere on the wall where his actions would not be observed, but now the rush was setting in, he didn’t care. They wouldn’t be able to stop him now. No one could.

  He grabbed Jir by the leather straps that crossed his chest. Hunters trained hard and considered themselves strong and capable. Satyendra was several inches shorter than Jir and of a slender build, so the older man was taken completely by surprise when he was picked up as easily as a babe and slammed against the wall.

  Pain. Fear. Shock.

  The spear fell from Jir’s fingers.

  More fuel for Satyendra’s growing power.

  He slammed Jir against the wall again, and this time, there was a crack as his delicate wings broke apart. As soon as he heard that, Satyendra hurled him over the wall.

  Jir plunged, screaming, into the darkness and was gone.

  It occurred to Satyendra that he had killed another person, but it was a thought rather than a feeling – shouldn’t I feel bad about this? – but it barely registered as he absorbed Jir’s last moments of shock and terror, the ecstasy eclipsing any guilt.

  The two guards were now charging towards him and a cry of alarm had gone up. To Satyendra it looked as if they were moving in slow motion. He had plenty of time to look for Sa-at as they approached.

  There he is, he thought with disgust, wobbling on those Sky-legs like a newly born Cattlekin. He needs to be faster!

  Satyendra picked up Jir’s spear and hurled it at the first of the two guards. They barely registered the motion before the shaft was protruding from the woman’s chest. The second guard looked over his shoulder, trying to understand why she had fallen. When he looked up again, Satyendra was in front of him.

  ‘Wha—’

  His hands closed on the guard’s throat and squeezed. The man’s eyes rolled up into his skull, but not before he’d given up a delicious fizz of panic. Satyendra felt stronger still.

  His body hummed with energy.

  His bones twitched.

  His face began to open.

  No! No, I don’t want this!

  But his body was shifting of its own accord now, gathering a momentum he neither understood nor could control. Meanwhile, more hunters were approaching him at speed, spears ready. They were coming from both sides, moving in together to flank him.

  He shook his head, the guard still dangling from his grasp, and his cheeks swung oddly, sending a chill down his spine.

  What’s happening to me! I want it to stop.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw a spear coming towards him. It sailed slowly, leisurely, almost as if it had been tossed for him to catch, but there was no doubt that its intent was to kill.

  He plucked it from the air with his free hand and sent it on its way twice as fast, causing those behind him to fall back with a cry. Then, he launched the guard he held at those in front of him, turning the approaching hunters into a heap of struggling limbs.

  Moments had been bought. He used the reprieve to probe at his face and found his cheekbones too far apart. Horrified he tried to squeeze them back together, his stomach lurching as they moved on some new hinge within his skull.

  Sa-at was on the stairs now, moving with a lot of energy but little skill, jumping three at a time, then slipping, then jumping again.

  Satyendra wanted to shout at him, but he dared not speak. Instead he held down a hand. Sa-at saw it and nodded, scrambling to close the gap between them.

  The hunters were regrouping. Satyendra noted the slow looks between them as they took positions and advanced. They were more cautious this time, and he could see they were using forms usually practised against demons of the Wild. None met his gaze now, their attention was on his arms and legs. The next attack would come from both sides simultaneously.

  Come on! he thought, though even he didn’t know if he was urging the hunters to commence the fight, or Sa-at to enable their escape. His mind was working so fast, the feelings so powerful, that things felt like a blur, like he could be anything he wanted. And he wanted many conflicting things all at once:

  He wanted to get away and hide and be alone.

  He wanted to make people suffer.

  He wanted it to stop!

  It was all getting too much. His vision began to flicker, the gemslights becoming burning points of blue, the people distorted shapes. He swayed for a moment.

  And that was when the hunters attacked.

  And that was when Sa-at’s hand found his.

  Satyendra grabbed hold and stepped up onto the battlements, raising Sa-at above his head. To an observer they would look like partners performing a difficult lift in a dance. He didn’t like the feel of the armour being so close but it did not radiate malice, at least, not yet.

  The hunters were gathering at their heels, thrusting for him with their spears. As he jumped, he felt a point of pain in the back of his thigh, sharp and bright.

  Then they were in the air, him dangling from Sa-at’s arms much like prey would hang from a Birdkin’s talons.

  Sa-at said something that he couldn’t make out but it sounded nervous. He looked around for trouble but there were no immediate threats. Sa-at spoke again, clearly worried, and this time Satyendra didn’t need to hear him to understand.

  They were not flying. They were falling.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When Sa-at had watche
d Rochant fly, it looked easy. Of course, he’d never seen Rochant try to carry someone else. And Rochant’s armour shone bright like a star up close, whereas the armour he was wearing glowed like the last embers of a fire.

  He was falling fast. Satyendra was gripping his wrists so tight it hurt, and with his arms locked straight down, there was little he could do to alter their trajectory.

  They fell past the outer wall. Luckily, Satyendra had pushed them far enough away that they cleared the rocky skirt that flashed out at the base. As they passed that, they fell into a current of essence that wrenched at his wings. For a moment they slowed, even started to rise a little, and then they slipped sideways out of it and fell again, spinning crazily.

  Satyendra was shouting at him but he couldn’t hear a word of it over the roaring wind. In the dark, he was just a shape. But there was something about the shape that he found unsettling.

  If I was alone, I could do this, he thought.

  He considered letting Satyendra go. After all, he hadn’t sworn any oaths, and he hadn’t made up his mind about Satyendra yet. Surely it was better that one of them survived?

  ‘I’m sorry!’ he shouted.

  It was hard to tell if Satyendra understood, but the grip on his wrists tightened still further, threatening to crush the bones. Even if I let go, he won’t.

  He tried kicking his legs and tilting his body, doing all he could to re-enter the currents, but it was an impossible task. Between the extra weight, the unfamiliar armour, and the constant spinning, he could barely see, let alone fly.

  But, by chance, they fell back into the currents beneath the castle naturally. He felt the armour press painfully into his chest as their momentum was forcefully checked. Before he could process this, he was tossed about like a leaf in a storm, and it was all he could do not to throw up in his helmet.

  All around him was dark, save for the castle’s lights that he glimpsed occasionally as he was flipped over and over.

  Are they above me?

  Below me?

  Up and down ceased to have meaning. Time ceased to have meaning. His panic became a single moment in time, as constant as the pain in his arms and the tight clenching of his stomach.