Palom

by L. L. McNeil

  ‘Know what you mean. I took some vegetables to be nice, but it’s awful stuff.’ Amarah stirred again. ‘You see Jato, then?’

  Kohl knelt down opposite Amarah and busied himself with picking at his hat.

  ‘She didn’t wanna see you?’

  Kohl looked up, the light from the cooking fire catching his face. ‘She was…unavailable again, today.’

  Lifting a spoonful of stew out of the pot, Amarah sniffed it carefully before tasting. ‘You never did say why you were exiled, you know. Was it that you spotted Aciel for the rat he was, and everyone took his side?’ She kept her eyes on her dinner, spooning out the dish into her bowl, and then into another for Kohl.

  ‘You really have no boundaries, do you?’ The Arillian asked, though he didn’t sound offended.

  ‘Not in my line of work,’ she replied, looking up at him with a grin. She handed Kohl his bowl of food before sitting back with her own and letting the steam warm her face.

  The two sat in silence for several minutes before Kohl took in a deep breath. ‘I didn’t like Aciel. But perhaps not for reasons you might think.’

  Amarah brought her bowl to her mouth with both hands, slurping at the contents and watching him carefully. She knew the tell-tale signals of liars. The twitch of a lip or the dilation of a pupil could signal fear, anger, desire. She waited for the signs.

  Kohl said, ‘He admired Jato. Young love, it was. Lust, really. He wanted to be with her for a while, but he was too low in rank to be a suitable match for anything more than fun.’

  ‘Rank? Don’t tell me you Arillians have Goldstones and all that nobility rubbish.’ Amarah wiped her mouth before gulping down more. ‘Thought that was just Corhaven!’

  ‘I was the leader of my people,’ Kohl said, swallowing. ‘My blood is old. I have the frost-touch, the same powers as my ancestors who created the Golems.’ He took a deep breath, as though speaking for the first time. ‘Fire burns bright and hot, and then it passes. Fades. Like the dragons themselves will fade, eventually. But the ice? The ice has always been here. It will always be here.’

  Amarah narrowed her eyes. What he said conflicted with what she knew of Linaria. What she’d been taught. But he didn’t show any signs of dishonesty, and he spoke so earnestly that she almost believed him.

  Kohl continued, ‘Jato was to follow in my footsteps, and she was expected to…choose someone worthy of that status.’

  Amarah added another ladle to her bowl, her mind racing.

  ‘Aciel is not a candidate. Was not a candidate. He is one of our lowest classes, with weak powers. He used his compulsion to have others do the work and labour he should have done. The match could never be agreed. He wasn’t even from Oren! But Jato said the old ways were dying and they should die with me. Teenage rebellion, I think,’ he chuckled, though his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  ‘They saw each other in secret, and he convinced her of his...new way. His compulsion turned a lot of Arillians to his way of thinking. The old way—my way—had previously led to the destruction of most of our people, of our homes.’

  ‘The Great War?’

  ‘Indeed,’ Kohl nodded. ‘Though that was before my time, I suppose I’m a traditionalist. I wanted to preserve what we’d almost lost in that war.’

  Amarah shrugged.

  ‘As Aciel used his compulsion to bring more Arillians into his fold, I fought back. I called upon the Golems to intervene.’

  ‘What? But… I… didn’t you say they were to keep outsiders out? To keep your lands safe?’

  ‘They do more than guard the gates. Through me, they...I can speak with them. Not control them, but as the leader, I could talk to them. Demand judgement. They heard my plea and came to my aid. They brought Oren to the ground to determine whether Aciel or I would lead the Arillians here.’

  Amarah’s bowl was forgotten in her hands as she listened to Kohl, not quite able to believe the things he described. How on earth could the floating islands be brought to the ground?

  ‘Their action enabled Aciel and I to fight on even footing. I’d always been immune to his abilities, I suppose I have my strong blood to thank for that. I didn’t want to kill him. I just wanted to make an example of him. I wanted him to be fearful of me…enough so he wouldn’t push his luck or try and stir up dissention again. But he controlled so many people by that point. He had them fight against me, too, and the Golems couldn’t tell the difference between them and Aciel himself. They don’t have eyes, you see, and Aciel was the one making all the decisions. So, they didn’t stop the fighting as Aciel’s followers overpowered me.’

  Kohl took another breath, shaking his head as he spoke, his own food untouched.

  ‘Jato begged Aciel to stop. Insisted he’d won and that I’d submit. But Aciel wanted absolute domination. He told her she had to deliver the final blow to end our battle. She had to strike me down herself. Once he’d commanded her, she…she….’ He broke away with a shudder.

  ‘As she raised her hand to attack me, the Golems sensed the interference of an outsider and attacked her.’

  ‘How did they attack her but not his other followers?’ Amarah interrupted, an eyebrow raised.

  Kohl looked at her, then dropped his eyes. ‘She’d never been under his compulsion. The whole time, she went along with what he wanted and asked because…she was infatuated with him. Like me, she was immune. I guess it didn’t make a difference in the end.’

  Amarah sniffed. ‘So, she survived the Golems’ attack?’

  ‘Our laws are unbreakable. They would have killed her. So…so I attacked them instead. The result is what you see of my face.’ He tapped a finger to the scars on his leathery skin, still smiling his half-smile.

  ‘They couldn’t kill me as they are unbiased in our disputes. By that point, it was too late, anyway. I saved my daughter, but Aciel had won. Won her. Beaten me. Gained followers. Everything. On the Golems’ command, I was exiled, their instruction carried out by Aciel, now the new leader, and Oren was restored to its place in the sky.’

  ‘Kohl…’ Amarah said, shocked at his admission.

  ‘Now that Aciel’s dead and the Arillians are leaderless, there isn’t anyone who can enforce the law of the Golems, so I’ve been permitted to return, it seems. We’re lucky.’

  Amarah’s mouth hung open as she struggled to comprehend Kohl’s story. It seemed the magic which bound the Arillians was far stronger than anything she understood of the Samolen, whose blood she shared.

  ‘So, all this time, the Golems could’ve attacked you when we were flying here?’ Amarah said.

  Kohl dipped his head to her.

  ‘And…and that’s why…when we were in Berel, you were so keen to find a book on compulsion that could have broken Aciel’s hold on his followers.’

  ‘In part, yes,’ Kohl said. ‘I’d also hoped there was some other string to his powers that controlled Jato. Something deep down that affected her differently to everyone else. I didn’t want to believe that she’d really…’ He trailed off.

  ‘Your food’s getting cold,’ Amarah said.

  For all her hatred of authority, Kohl had ruled as the leader of the Arillians until Aciel had come along—and lost it all to save his daughter, who saw him with nothing but contempt.

  ‘If….If Jato was never under Aciel’s compulsion…She… must know what you went through?’ Amarah said, placing the remains of her bowl on the floor beside her.

  ‘Yes,’ Kohl said, drinking his dish and refusing to meet Amarah’s gaze.

  ‘And she still—’

  ‘Yes.’

  Amarah poked her bottom lip out as she thought about it, frowning and scowling at the same time. There had to be something more to it than Kohl was letting on.

  How could Jato hold such a grudge against him, even now? Surely, she had the sense to see Aciel had been a vigilante, no matter how in love she thought she was.

  Kohl broke her thoughts. ‘Jato also wanted power of her own, I suspect. Growing up in my
shadow can’t have been easy. She will not obtain my frost-touch or ability to communicate with the Golems, not until I die. Then the power in my blood will become hers. The Golems are not only the gatekeepers to our home, but to our history, our culture. They are our teachers and defenders.

  I need to speak with them. Access our deepest magic, the magic that might be able to free Moroda. But as I am no longer leader, I don’t have the strength to put forward such a request. Jato has been a temporary leader. She’s been a General for years. The Golems haven’t yet recognised her as the highest ranking Arillian, so I need to find a way to get the plea to them. Find out what they can teach and see if it can help.’

  Amarah looked up as Kohl spoke again, thinking back to those great titans stood in the snowdrifts, and wondered what on earth they could teach. ‘Sorry, Kohl.’

  ‘Sorry? What for?’ Kohl laughed.

  Amarah shrugged, ‘Seemed to be the thing to say. It’s something Moroda would have said.’

  ‘Indeed,’ he agreed, bowing his head slightly at the mention of Moroda’s name. ‘Don’t burden yourself with my woes. It is not your concern, and Jato is not your fight.’

  ‘Is my concern if it affects getting Moroda back,’ Amarah said, spooning another load of dinner from the pot to her bowl. ‘But I don’t care about Jato. I’ve got too many enemies of my own, too many battles to fight without adding your crazy daughter into the mix.’

  Kohl smiled again, his lips twisting in a macabre way. ‘Of course. There are legends of the great sky pirate Amarah and those who want her head. I imagine King Sapora will be near the top of that list.’

  Amarah laughed, sitting back down and taking a long slurp. ‘Damned snake!’

  ‘You’ve always been spiteful to each other. What is it about him that you hated?’ Kohl asked, his wings rustling.

  ‘A game of questions tonight, is it?’ Amarah grinned, downing the rest of her dish in one go. ‘I hate the damned Varkain. You know what they did to me when I got to Niversai for the first time? When I was a kid? They ganged up and attacked me! Left me for dead!’

  Kohl nodded.

  ‘And that Sapora…always throwing his weight around. I tell you, I can’t stand people like that. Because they’ve got money, or clothes, or talk a certain way. Fuck the lot of them! We don’t choose where we’re born, or who to. He’s only important cause his daddy was important. He’s just a maggot like the rest of them!’

  Amarah ran her fingers through her hair. ‘You know what? I thought of throwing him overboard a few times. Especially when we crossed the sea. But he’s so fucking fast, I’d never get hold of him before he struck. Had to put up with him. And look—he turned tail and ran before the last battle!’

  Kohl flinched and glanced away. ‘I know I’ve let people down. It’s hard not to, it seems. I must be cursed.’

  ‘Oh shush, I didn’t mean you,’ Amarah waved her hand in his direction. ‘Wouldn’t expect you to kill your daughter. Sapora, though…We’d none of us still be alive unless he needed us for something. I tell you, the next Varkain I see, I’m killing.’

  ‘An innocent Varkain who’s done nothing to you?’

  ‘They’re not innocent!’

  Kohl shook his head, smiling his twisted smile again.

  ‘What’s so funny now?’

  ‘You are, Amarah. You just said yourself you can’t choose where you’re born, or who you’re born to. Would it have been that Varkain’s fault? You don’t sound all that different to Sapora. Or even Aciel.’

  ‘That’s damned rude,’ she said, glowering.

  ‘Sorry,’ Kohl said. His smile faded.

  Amarah blinked, confused. She was used to people rising to every quip, spoiling for a fight. Kohl backed down and her rage ebbed away. She thought over what he’d said of family, that he’d only mentioned Jato and no other relatives. Perhaps she was his only true friend. Even Jato hated him. The other Arillians here, his people, were more interested in her and Khanna than the return of their former leader.

  She couldn’t understand it. To have status, prestige, and love and to lose it all because of an ungrateful child.

  Amarah found she liked Jato less and less the more she heard of her. She’d only ever seen her briefly before, twice, once when she snuck aboard her warship and stole from her, and then on the battlefields above Taban Yul, when Aciel led his army to attack the city.

  She hadn’t liked what she’d seen of her then.

  She wondered whether Jato would even remember her. Wondered whether Kohl would feel true grief if Jato were to die, or whether he’d simply be free from the exile he’d earned for being foolish enough to have compassion.

  Amarah had no family, no children, no real friends— only those who used her and whom she used in return.

  There was no love, no trust, no bond.

  The closest she’d come to a friend was Moroda, and now, Kohl.

  The strength of the emotions he felt was not something Amarah could fathom. Surely, it’d be simpler to cut all ties and seek his fortune on the mainland? The world was certainly big enough, and he wasn’t missing much in Oren. The dull rock had little to offer, from what Amarah had seen and learned from the locals.

  Why in Rhea’s name did he feel such deep attachment to the place?

  A sudden crackle of lightning and strong wind had her guard back up immediately. She rolled to her feet and grabbed her scythe, ready and tense before Kohl reacted.

  Perhaps he was so used to the sound of his own kin, he didn’t hear the approaching wings.

  ‘Jato. Speak of the devil.’ Amarah said, adjusting her grip on her scythe, giving herself more range.

  Jato landed on deck a moment later, rattling the sails of Khanna and sending everything loose flying. She glanced at Amarah and her weapon, before turning her attention to Kohl.

  ‘You’ve been summoned.’ Jato said.

  ‘At this hour?’ Kohl said, getting to his feet.

  Amarah watched as he lowered his eyes and hunched his back, all confidence gone as he faced his daughter.

  Other than their body language, the resemblance between them was clear—both had the same grey eyes and blonde hair.

  ‘Why else would I be here?’ Jato snapped.

  ‘To see your dad, maybe?’ Amarah raised an eyebrow. ‘We’ve been here two days, and—’

  ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ Jato said. She turned her head towards Amarah but kept her eyes closed, as though even looking upon Amarah was beneath her. ‘Now, Kohl.’ She crouched, wings raised.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Amarah said, rising to the insult. She aimed the blade of her scythe at Jato and the strength of the Sevastos ore within blasted a wave of blue light straight at her.

  Jato deflected the attack with a flick of her wrist and brought her hand down, conjuring a bolt of lightning in the same movement, and sent it after Amarah.

  ‘Jato! She is under the Golems’ protection!’ Kohl said, stepping between them.

  Amarah yelped as the shock of the attack ripped through her body. She dropped her scythe and curled into a ball, a reflex against the searing pain.

  ‘Kohl. Come,’ Jato said, continuing to ignore Amarah as she took to the air.

  Kohl sighed, his shoulders dropping as Jato vanished from sight. He walked across the singed deck to Amarah and offered his hand.

  ‘Don’t touch me. Go after your fucking brat.’ Amarah spat, blood dripping between her teeth from where she’d been knocked to the floor.

  ‘Amarah, I’m—’

  ‘Sorry. Yes. Like you always are.’ She coughed, getting to her knees and wiping the blood from her mouth. ‘She just caught me by surprise. I’m fine. Run along now. Don’t want to keep her waiting, do you?’

  Kohl bowed his head, turned, and leapt from the deck to follow Jato.

  Amarah spat blood again but was glad all her teeth were intact when she tapped her fingers to them. She wanted nothing more than to teach Jato some manners, especially after everything Kohl had done f
or her.

  But it seemed Jato was an ungrateful, entitled, spoiled brat who had a taste for power and didn’t want to let go. Gingerly getting to her feet, Amarah leaned on the side of Khanna, peering out.

  In the distance, the village fire burned as it always did, the contrast of light and dark so bright that she couldn’t see anything in the night sky.

  Some leader Kohl was. At Jato’s beck and call. And now the former lunatic General flouncing around like she still had Aciel’s borrowed power.

  Spitting the last of her blood overboard, Amarah picked up her scythe and slammed the bottom of it on deck.

  She’d played nice for too long.

  Tomorrow, she’d make the Arillians get whatever magic they needed from the Golems and get Moroda out of her crystal tomb.

  Chapter Five

  Sapora’s task of assigning a new council in Taban Yul progressed slowly. Other than Tacio, Isa, and the raven—Koraki— who’d served in the palace for over sixty years, he’d picked a member of the Cerastes—guards—of Sereth: a grizzled old snake called Roke, who was missing an ear and his right hand, yet had the infallible ability to understand Sapora’s moods and wishes without saying a word.

  Sapora had also assigned a pair of lower-class Varkain who’d shown some aptitude in combat but were cowardly and lacked resolve. He knew they could not be relied upon, not truly: their own lives were more important than his, especially as they all longed to return to Sereth.

  His people’s affinity for the darkness and the comfort of their tunnels was their weakness. Sapora’s Ittallan blood had given him the ability to enjoy the open air; he had no desire to hide and live in the gloom like his people.

  Even Tacio—the boldest and most confident Varkain Sapora knew—wished to return to Sereth, though he knew Tacio remained in Val Sharis to save face rather than out of a desire to help on the surface.

  Sapora was trying to set up a new order, a new regime, and even though he had been the crown prince and had always held a certain amount of power in Val Sharis, the strength of his rule was far less than he wanted.

  The Ittallan in the palace feared Tacio more than him.