by L. L. McNeil
After minutes of waiting, when he’d caught his breath and could no longer smell Mateli, he relaxed, shifting back and falling onto one knee.
Blood poured from his temple, and his whole body ached.
There was no telling whether Mateli had swum upriver or followed it further down.
He heard leaves rushing and twigs snapping, and Palom looked up to see Solvi racing through the trees towards him. She leapt over the river without breaking stride and hurried over to him once she landed on the other bank.
‘Palom! Kali!’ She said, skidding to a halt.
‘Solvi? You should not be here,’ he said, trying to stand but failing. ‘Why are you not in Sol?’
‘I couldn’t leave you to face him alone!’ She looked him over, wiped the blood from his face. ‘Palom…!’
‘Solvi…go back to Sol. Mateli will be back. You cannot be here when…he gets back.’ He felt blood trickle down his neck and struggled to stay conscious.
Damn.
He hadn’t realised it was such a deep wound.
His vision dimmed, and fear ran through him like ice.
‘I will be fine. Go back to Sol…I can finish him.’
‘Don’t be silly! I can’t leave you!’ She crouched to loop his arm over her and pulled him away from the river.
He hobbled along with her but collapsed to the ground on several occasions before Solvi managed to bring him inside and lay him on his bed in the inn. ‘I’ll get your sword,’ she said, darting back outside to pick up his abandoned Valta Forinja.
The fire in his room had almost completely burnt out, and Solvi added more wood, letting the flames grow again around his egg.
‘I’ll stay with you while you recover,’ she said, when she was happy with the fire.
‘Solvi…When he comes back…You are no match for him.’ Palom coughed.
She tore up the extra bedding in his room and slowly wrapped it around his wounds. ‘Hold this here,’ she commanded, lifting his hand to press against his bleeding head.
‘Solvi…You are not listening to me…’ Palom tried again, doing as she asked.
She went back to the fire and fiddled around with the firewood. ‘I know. But…But I could fend him off. Keep him away from you while you heal.’
Palom sank into the bed. Blood trickled through the sheets, but he turned his head away, so Solvi wouldn’t see.
He wished he’d never left home in the first place.
He’d never have got himself mixed up with Mateli, would have been there for Solvi as she’d grown up.
He could hardly believe how courageous she was in the face of danger.
Then again, if he hadn’t left, he’d never have met…
He gasped, half in pain, half in excitement.
‘Solvi. You can…you can help me,’ he said, voice weak.
‘What do you need, kali?’ She was by his side in a moment, clutching his hands.
‘My bag…’ he pointed to his belongings by the side of the hearth. ‘There is…inside there is…brooch. For a friend of mine…’
Solvi hurried over and rooted through his bag, eventually pulling out the small drawstring purse Lathri had rejected.
‘This?’ She asked, holding it up so he could see.
‘Please, Solvi…Take this to…Taban Yul…There is healer I know. In Little Yomal…’
Solvi frowned. ‘Taban Yul is leagues away!’
He coughed, blood spattering the sheets. ‘Lathri is best healer…She…Please ask her…To come and help…The top house…The blue roses…’
‘Palom, I can’t leave you! What if he comes back?’
He coughed again. ‘Then hurry. Use…your meraki to run fast as possible…Lathri can fly, but please…Give her that brooch…Tell her where I am. I am begging you, Solvi.’
She held the bag close and looked to the door.
‘Solvi…’ He closed his eyes, desperate.
‘I don’t like it. Sol is closer…’
He shook his head. ‘Lathri is best…Please.’
With a sigh, she transformed, her grey-blue fur brightening the room. She picked up the bag in her mouth and gave him a pained look before she raced off into the night.
Chapter Sixteen
Isa made her way downstairs, pleased that she’d not been spotted by anyone when she returned to the palace the previous night.
She checked over her hand multiple times and could hardly believe the skill with which Lathri had healed her.
Lathri and her allies had made her think seriously about how Sapora and Tacio were running the city, about their broken promises and aggression. She was older than Tacio, and yet the Varkain still had more authority than she did—Sapora always turned to him for advice over her.
She swept around the curving passageway, glancing at the tapestries lining the walls. Sapora’s no longer hung next to the others—a shame, she thought. The artist had really brought depth of colour to his scales, and it had complemented Vasil’s portrait in the gallery.
A pair of Goldstones sat at a small round table in the dining room where the kitchen staff served breakfast and tea to the palace residents—as well as wealthy individuals who would happily pay for the experience and a chance to peek at royalty.
She smiled at the staff, helped herself to a platter of toasted bagels and butter, and walked through the double doors at the end of the dining room, where she breakfasted in private.
The Council—those in residence, anyway—used to join her, but now she found she ate by herself most mornings.
Her usual pot of tea waited for her on the table by the window when she sat down. The view looked out over Taban Yul, and she thought how much her city appeared to have changed in a single day.
Conspirators.
Curses.
Monsters.
She needed to report that old Ittallan woman, before she ended up hurting anyone else. Isa ate slowly and wondered whether the best thing for the city was indeed the best thing for her.
She’d finished her first mug of tea, and was halfway through her second when the door to her room opened, and Tacio sauntered in.
She scowled at him.
‘Mind if I join you?’ he asked, sitting down without invitation, his long necklaces jingling.
‘What do you want?’
He smirked at her and brushed down his lapels with one hand, his other drumming on the table as though he were impatiently waiting for something.
She had plenty of patience, however, and sipped her tea while she waited for him to explain himself.
Eventually, he coughed and stopped drumming. ‘Have fun on your little excursion last night?’
Isa kept her face impassive, half using the mug to hide her lips.
‘No…?’ He leaned forward slightly, pupils dilating.
‘I can roam the city as I wish,’ she said, emptying her mug and placing it on the table.
‘Of course you can. I wondered what was so interesting outside the city? You didn’t get back until very late…’
She moistened her lips with her tongue, giving herself time to think. How much did he know? Had she been followed? ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She shrugged, the epitome of nonchalance.
Tacio’s grin broadened. ‘I think you know exactly what I mean, Isa. Now…the fact you’re hiding your reasons for leaving makes me very suspicious. You can understand that, can’t you?’
She raised an eyebrow. It was like being a child again.
‘You’ve got personal airships, you can fly out if you want to go anywhere. But you left on foot, didn’t come back until the middle of the night, and you look like you’ve been in the wars.’
The Varkain Guard, she realised.
They were under Tacio, not Sapora.
Why was Tacio keeping tabs on her?
‘Excuse me? Been in the wars?’ She was irritated now.
Tacio grabbed her forearm and pulled her close to him.
‘What are you doing?’ She hissed and pulled awa
y.
‘This is what I mean,’ he said as he held her fingers and yanked her hand close.
She flinched.
‘New scars? Come, Isa. If we have an enemy, don’t you think you ought to tell us…?’
Isa writhed in his grip, but he wouldn’t let go.
‘Tacio! Get off!’
His claws pressed into her soft flesh for a moment before he released her with another smile.
‘Who do you think you are?’ She got to her feet, her chair scraping back on the marble floor, one hand holding her injured one.
‘I want to know what you’re up to, Isa.’
She scowled. ‘I could ask the same of you! How many times have you snuck back into palace at dawn? What do you get up to in the middle of the night, hmm?’
‘Doing the dirty work our king commands,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘Managing our Cerastes and the Guard. Weeding out conspirators. Making sure his rule is nice and easy…’
‘And you think I’m making his rule difficult?’
‘I’m just making sure you don’t.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Releasing Mateli will make his rule harder than I ever could.’
‘Precisely why Sapora has an ace up his sleeve.’
Something about the way his eyes glinted made Isa’s heart pound. What ace did Sapora have?
‘Come and walk with me,’ Tacio said, offering her his arm. ‘Let’s go and see our brother.’
*
The gardens were more crowded than Isa had ever seen. There had to be fifty Varkain in Imperial armour charging around, clearing plants, fountains, and ornaments like their lives depended on it.
The last time she’d seen such behaviour had been when Aciel’s fleet had attacked the city.
Sapora stood in the centre of it all, barking orders and gesturing like the conductor of an orchestra. Isa hadn’t seen him flustered before, but she could tell Sapora was close.
‘Things running nice and smoothly, I see,’ Tacio said, eyeing the organised chaos around them. ‘Looks like your delivery is coming in right on time.’
Sapora ignored him and rolled up his sheet of parchment paper. ‘In future, Tacio, I’d appreciate a more precise arrival time than “soon,”’ Sapora said. ‘Less time preening yourself and more time being active.’
Isa supressed a laugh, her breath coming out through her nose in more of a snort than anything else.
‘Mateli is out, now, anyway.’ Tacio said, after the redness in his face faded.
‘Good. At least Palom will be dealt with.’
Isa’s stomach knotted.
‘Any other killing orders, or are you having a break from that?’ Tacio ventured.
‘I’d suggest a break from that,’ Isa interjected.
She was keen to change the subject and also let him know about the old woman in town. ‘You’ve got bigger problems in your city to deal with. Curses.’
‘Curses?’ Tacio sneered. ‘Oh, is this what you were up to last night?’
She cast a filthy look in his direction. ‘While I was in the city, on the south side, there was an old Ittallan woman. She looked in a kind of trance. Blank eyes. Muttering to herself.’
‘Senile Ittallan.’ Tacio shrugged and looked to Sapora.
‘I asked if she was all right and when I touched her, I heard someone calling my name.’
Sapora’s eyes widened. ‘Who?’
‘Don’t know. It was in my head. A…a man’s voice, I think. Soon as I let go of the woman he disappeared. There was a whole group of them.’
Sapora turned away, as he often did when he thought. Isa bit her thumbnail. ‘I thought she’d been cursed…It’s this sickness that’s in Taban Yul.’
‘Could be,’ Sapora said, putting his rolled parchment in his inside pocket. ‘Could be something else, too.’
‘Does it matter? Not like we need to worry now it’s here,’ Tacio said.
Isa hated being missed out of conversations, and she felt very excluded right now. ‘Now what’s here…?’
‘An old power for the Varkain,’ Tacio said, unable to resist rubbing it in her face. ‘We’ve got a god in our claws.’ His eyes flashed.
‘What are you talking about?’ Isa asked. There was only one thing that could be considered a god. ‘A Sevastos?’ She looked at the commotion in the gardens in a new light. ‘How…Sapora…?’ She stammered.
‘That’s right. Nothing in Linaria can stand against it!’ Tacio grinned, his usual lazy drawl replaced by excitement. ‘Which means nothing in Linaria can stand against us. We’ve got all the power now! We’re invincible.’
Isa looked to Sapora, who had been silent during Tacio’s outbursts. If anything, she thought he looked angrier than ever.
‘Gods do not exist. Power does not exist. There is only leverage. Anyone—anything can be broken. Even dragons. Even…a Sevastos.’
Panic suddenly gripped her. What did he mean?
She remembered the voice in her head, speaking her name—demanding she respond.
It couldn’t mean…It couldn’t mean Aciel…could it?
From Sapora’s stony glare, she guessed it wasn’t outside the realms of possibility.
If it was true, how on earth could they stand against that if a Sevastos had failed?
Sapora said, ‘Isa, I want you to oversee the loading of my cargo. They’re bringing it in now.’
She blinked, surprised, but nodded.
‘Once it’s in, make sure the canvas is brought out. It has to cover the whole garden. Understand? Then dismiss everyone but the Cerastes I brought with me. Roke will keep them in line.’
‘Where are you going?’ She asked.
‘I’m borrowing one of your ships. Tacio, I want you to come with me.’ He charged back towards the palace.
‘Wait, Sapora! Where are you going?’ Isa called out.
But he was gone.
*
‘I’m telling you, she’s up to something,’ Tacio said, for what had to be the thousandth time.
Sapora ignored him again as he had every other time Tacio had suggested Isa was traitorous.
Koraki flew the two out of the city and due east in Isa’s personal airship—one of two she owned. Designed for personal use, the ship could comfortably transport only a couple of people. The three of them had been a squeeze, and Sapora had opted to stand for the flight instead of sitting beside his brother.
Now his Sevastos had found its new home, he had a little breathing space. But he needed to get his second piece on the board as soon as possible.
Isa’s report sounded suspiciously like Aciel’s compulsion—albeit a weakened version—and he’d hoped Moroda’s plan would have worked indefinitely.
But it seemed his own words were true.
Even a Sevastos could be broken.
If that was true, the damned Arillian could be free to try his hand at conquest again. He had to have a defence in place, and a counter-attack.
What good was it ruling if there was nothing left to rule?
He’d been trying to save a country on the brink of collapse and all he got for his trouble were reports of conspirators and angry Ittallan that the comfortable life they knew might change a little. For the good of their country.
He had to protect them; against dragons turning against villages and Aciel potentially still affecting people in Taban Yul.
He rolled his tongue over his fangs. With such powers at play, the safety of Linaria was no longer down to the Imperial Guard, Cerastes, or even what was left of the Varkain Old Guard.
No. This called for far more leverage.
‘Bring the ship down on the edge of the trees,’ Sapora said, as the Rio Neva forest spread out below them. In the distance, he could still see Taban Yul.
He really could have made his way here alone, but he had no idea how much time he had before he’d be forced to act, so he had decided to use the resources at his disposal.
Koraki landed the ship at the top of a slope beside the roa
d, the trees dark and foreboding just ahead.
‘Stay with the ship. Tacio, come with me.’
Sapora leapt off the side of the ship, disliking how exposed he felt in the fields leading up to the trees.
Perhaps there was a little more Varkain in him than he cared to admit.
He hurried along, as quickly as he could, avoiding trailing vines and large tree roots, pulling out his map periodically to ensure he was on the most direct path.
‘She’s an Ittallan, Sapora. An Ittallan.’
Sapora followed the path into the forest, then at the first bend, continued straight into the trees, following his own route and using his map as a guide.
‘Tacio, in case you fail to realise—or have forgotten—I myself am half-Ittallan, too.’ He turned at a particular tree and carried on through the undergrowth.
‘Yes, but…you’re not really one. You’re Naja. Not some damned house cat.’ Tacio continued, several steps behind him.
‘I really do tire of you discussing my lineage. I’m your king. That’s as much as you or anyone else needs to know. Isa is my sister and has lived in Taban Yul her whole life. You’ll show us both the appropriate amount of respect, or I shall send you back to Sereth.’
‘Argh!’
Sapora whirled round, one scimitar already out and ready to strike.
‘My…cloak…’ Tacio said. A thin branch had snagged it as he’d passed, and he gingerly pulled it free.
Sapora sheathed his blade.
Tacio needed to spend more time in the real world as far as he was concerned. ‘Be quiet. We’re getting close.’
He jumped over a particularly thorny patch of vegetation on the edge of the Feor Mountains.
‘A cave?’ Tacio asked.
‘A cave,’ Sapora repeated. He licked his lips and walked into the mouth, his eyes immediately shifting as the darkness surrounded him.
He’d been planning this since he’d first arrived in Val Sharis, but now he was here, he wasn’t quite sure where to go next. He’d thought it would be obvious.
Tacio shuffled in beside him, pulling his torn cloak tight.
The Varkain had said there’d been a plaque.
A plaque should be simple enough to find, he supposed.
He walked forward, eyes down, looking through the churned-up soil for some indication of the plaque.
