by Kim Falconer
‘What’s your name?’ Nell asked, giving him the faintest nod.
‘Redrick, Mistress. Captain Jack Redrick.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Captain Redrick. You can serve Treeon by telling me if a young woman—a witch—her companion, her familiar and their horses have been here seeking passage across the strait, possibly to the Isles of Landercan?’ She took a sip of her mulled wine. ‘Or Rahana Iti?’
After a lengthy silence, she encouraged him with a smile. ‘Did you see them, Captain Redrick?’
The men averted their eyes, some shaking their heads. The ones that looked down at their mugs had clearly seen Rosette. Most likely they’d been instructed, or paid, to say nothing. They were trapped. On the one side was Rosette, a witch who had requested their silence—not someone they’d care to cross. On the other was this High Priestess from Treeon Temple, a woman who would know if they lied, possibly turning them into cockroaches if they did.
Finally, the nearest man removed his cap and scratched his bald head. ‘Aye, milady, I’ve seen ’em. I was paid by the lad to keep my mouth shut, but I figure it’s one of them moot points by now. They left the harbour three nights ago. The sea was calm then, not a ripple or a foul breeze. They’d be smack in the middle of this uncanny storm…and that’s not all.’
‘Please go on.’ Nell watched him draw in a deep breath.
‘You be the second mistress of Treeon who’s asked after them.’
Nell gave a light, quizzical look. ‘Someone from Treeon came before me? When?’
‘Just before the storm struck.’
‘Who was she?’
‘Well now, she didn’t offer her name, as is natural with your kind, meaning no disrespect.’
‘None taken.’
There was no point asking what she looked like—it could only be La Makee, and she could take on any glamour she chose, appearing to be any age, any form.
I should have known she’d suspect. ‘Just the priestess?’ she asked aloud.
‘No—she had a couple o’ warriors with her.’
‘And she was asking after my friends as well?’
‘In part. They were looking for a young witch and that massive black cat.’
‘What’d you tell her?’
‘Nothing, milady. But they’re likely to be around still, I’m thinkin’. Holed up somewhere against the storm.’
‘You’re most honourable, Captain.’
‘Like I said, it matters little now.’
‘How’s that?’
He didn’t answer.
‘Your young witch and her company were on board the Valiant,’ another man ventured, those around him nodding their heads.
‘The Valiant?’ Nell lifted her eyebrow.
‘Aye, milady. A fine ship as there ever was, but no vessel of her make could withstand such a storm, is what I think. She’d be at the bottom of green Sednara ‘bout now.’
Nell pressed her lips together and nodded before draining her mug and setting it on the table. The captains rose as she stood, all bowing their heads.
‘Blessings be on you and your seafaring craft,’ she said. ‘And blessings to you, Captain Redrick.’
‘Thank you, milady,’ they all said without looking up.
The meeting had gone better than expected for them. They’d received a blessing and weren’t turned into cockroaches. Nell walked to the door and pulled on her coat, heading back out into the storm. She made her way, head bent low, to the edge of Morzone where she absorbed her glamour and shifted.
The raptor shrieked with frustration, her emotions no less intense in the body of the black falcon than in her human heart. She circled with the wind, higher and higher, until she broke through above the storm. She would not despair. She would not be beaten. She knew Rosette was alive and…well, she’d fix Makee, if someone hadn’t gotten to her first.
Kreshkali slammed back through the portal gasping for breath. The effect on her was definitely getting worse.
‘Back off!’ she growled at the Entity between fits of coughing, wrapping her arms around her belly.
The portal rippled and went smooth.
Kreshkali wiped her mouth and smiled. She had a week’s supply of fresh water, bundles of herbs and roots, a new grimoire bound in red leather and edged with gold, and a Lemur Raven in an iron cage. The bird’s feathers were ruffled, its talons curled tightly around the wooden perch, its mouth gaping open, gasping for air, and tears running from its yellow eyes.
‘Bit acrid for you, La Makee?’ Kreshkali asked, peering in between the bars.
The bird extended its wings and let out a raspy caw.
Kreshkali laughed, throwing back her head. ‘Welcome to my world.’
She gave the Entity a parting glare before picking up the waterbags, bundles and cage. The raven cawed again.
‘You’re coming with me, High Priestess. I have something to show you.’
Once home, Kreshkali opened the cage and the raven hopped out, morphing into human form, her raucous caw turning into a woman’s scream.
‘Demon bitch, what are you thinking! You can’t waltz into my temple and snatch me to your…’ She looked around the apartment, her face turning red. ‘Wherever the spirits this place is. How dare you! How…’
Kreshkali waved her towards the table, ignoring the ranting. ‘Sit down, Makee. Have a cup of tea, and I’ll tell you exactly how I dare.’
La Makee sniffed and sneezed and rubbed her eyes. Her nose was running and her breathing uneven. Kreshkali sat for some time without speaking, deep in thought. They’d just returned from quite a tour, and Kreshkali suspected Makee was in severe shock. It was hard to imagine such a hell could exist on any world, until you stepped into it.
‘Don’t snivel, I’m trying to think,’ Kreshkali said, tossing her a roll of toilet paper.
Makee fingered it, her brows furrowing.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! Like this.’ Kreshkali snatched back the roll, unwound a length and blew her nose. ‘Get the idea?’
Makee nodded, doing the same. ‘So what’s this place?’ she asked.
‘Like I said, it’s my world.’
‘Does it have a name?’
‘Earth.’
Makee coughed. ‘It’s charming.’ She glared across the table. ‘Why am I here?’
‘A few reasons. Mainly, I wanted to show you what can happen to a world when an Entity is sundered and a worm gets loose—when the firewall breaks down and a few narrow-minded, power-seeking individuals take control. I thought it would be the most expedient way to stop your incessant meddling on Gaela.’
‘What makes you think I’m meddling?’
Kreshkali sneered. ‘Oh come on, Makee. It was you working with the Corsanon fools when they breached the portal and ruptured that Entity. It was you all along, goading the high council. You unleashed quite a spell.’
‘What spell are you talking about?’
‘Makee, you can hide under your pretence of naivety or you can pay attention and learn something. What’s it going to be?’
Makee snarled. ‘Do I have a choice?’
‘Not really. I’m going to let you live here—just as I do—until you decide.’
‘Decide what?’
‘Whose side you’re on.’
Makee didn’t respond. She looked out the window at the murk that seemed to pass for daylight. When she turned back she said, ‘The Entity’s disintegrating.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know.’
‘This world looks about to expire also…can’t imagine why.’ She blew her nose again. ‘How do you live in this poisonous brick box?’
‘They’re called apartments.’
‘Call it what you like,’ she said. ‘It’s a deathtrap.’
‘Makee, concentrate. That Entity guarding the portal we came through wants out before this world collapses. It’s already split apart.’
‘How’s that?’
‘It’s the same Entity as the one at the portal in Cor
sanon…don’t you get it? It’s all that’s left on this side of the corridor. The other half has been roaming about the rubble of Corsanon ever since you lot got it into your small minds to try travelling the many-worlds!’
‘What’s done is done,’ Makee spat. ‘What do you want?’
‘I want this world to survive, and so do you.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t care.’
‘Really? And would you say that if you knew all the many-worlds were linked?’
‘Linked?’
‘Connected. Related. What happens to one, happens to them all. There is no separation.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘You need to try harder.’ Kreshkali stared at her contemporary, shaking her head. ‘Earth was first. Everything branches from here. Earth must survive or they will all collapse. And that is looking more and more likely unless the Entity is healed, for starters. I can’t let what’s infecting Earth pass into the other worlds.’
‘How many others?’
‘Do you understand the concept of infinity?’
Makee’s eyes widened.
‘Meanwhile, the portal’s sucking the life out of me each time I pass.’
‘Because?’
‘Because it wants out, and if it goes…’
‘That would collapse more than just this world, wouldn’t it?’
‘So it’s starting to register?’
Makee nodded.
‘That’s not the only problem, though.’
‘There’s more?’
‘The witch-trackers.’
‘The what?’
‘ASSIST, an organisation of scientists,’ Kreshkali said, reconsidering after seeing the look on Makee’s face. ‘It’s like a dominant temple with advanced magic and an unwavering hatred of witches.’
‘How can you have advanced magic and hate witches?’
‘I know, but you can, and they’re tracking me, day and night.’
‘On Earth?’
Kreshkali shook her head. ‘They’ve found their way to Gaela.’
Makee narrowed her brows. ‘How?’
‘The portals, of course.’
‘And they’re doing what exactly?’
‘Remember the Matosh murders?’
Makee sucked in her breath. ‘I thought…’
‘Oh, it was Corsanon assassins that did it, but on the trackers’ order.’
‘How can you know all this?’
‘How do you not, witch?’ Kreshkali scraped back her chair and turned to open a cupboard. A rolling boom of thunder shook the building and white light briefly illuminated the room. Makee winced, covering her eyes from the flash.
Kreshkali took out a packet and broke it in two, tossing half to Makee.
‘What’s this?’
‘Dinner.’
‘Consisting of…?’
‘They’re called Nutries—a compressed cake of synthesised amino acids, long-chain fatty acids and essential…’
Makee held her hand up, shaking her head. ‘Stop. You’ll ruin what little appetite I have left.’
‘Suit yourself.’
Makee took a bite and grimaced.
‘You get used to it,’ Kreshkali said around a mouthful.
‘I hope not,’ she choked. ‘Has it always been like this on Earth?’
‘No.’ Kreshkali took another bite and chewed it slowly. ‘We used to eat each other.’
Makee straightened. ‘I’m listening, Kali. Tell me what I can do.’
It seemed like hours before Rosette spotted land. It bobbed into view when she had all but given up. Jarrod was unconscious but breathing. Drayco stood above her, straining to keep sight of the horses and scanning endlessly for sharks. The sun was high, a searing heat in the now cloudless sky.
Jarrod still bleeds. The sea tigers will come.
‘I know, Dray. I’m hoping the spell will hide us for a while longer.’
Me too. I’m really, really not liking the ocean. His tail lashed as he kept a vigil. Maudi, the horses have reached shore. They are shaking like dogs.
‘We’ll be there soon.’ Rosette redoubled her efforts, kicking her legs in a smooth, even rhythm. Finally, she felt the swell roll up under her, carrying them towards the beach. When her toes touched bottom, she was flooded with relief.
It lasted only a second. Behind her, a huge wave was building up overhead and rolled straight for them.
‘Jump, Drayco! Swim!’ she screamed, grabbing the edge of the board tight and sucking in her breath.
The wave ripped the plank from her arms and held her under for longer than she thought she could stand. After being slapped into the sand and churned in the whitewash, Rosette staggered to her feet, gasping for air and searching for Jarrod. The board was up on the sandy beach with Jarrod next to it, coughing and struggling to get up.
She waded through the shallows just as Drayco swam to her side, taking her sleeve in his jaws and, part guiding, part dragging, pulling her onto the beach. She reached Jarrod and they clung to each other in their wet, heavy clothes before crawling away from the water. With dry sand beneath them, they collapsed.
‘We did it,’ Rosette said as Jarrod flopped down beside her.
We are safe on dry land, Drayco answered. He shook, arcs of water flinging from his coat, and immediately began licking his wet fur.
Rosette rolled over on her back and looked up at him. Are you all right, Dray? You were so brave in the water. Her arms were like dough rolled in sugar.
I am unharmed. Are you? The massive feline stood over her as he began licking her face and neck.
She laughed aloud. Rough tongue!
He shook again. So, Maudi, where are we?
I don’t know and don’t care. Besides, Dray, you’re the geographer. Where do you reckon?
The feline sat on his haunches and lifted a paw, licking the dampness between his toes. I’ve absolutely no idea, but I’m delighted we’re off the sea.
Me too, Drayco. Me too!
CHAPTER 19
‘Get up,’ Nell whispered into An’ Lawrence’s ear. ‘Nell? Where have you been?’
She lit a small candle by his bed and pressed her finger to her lips. ‘Here and there. Come on. We have to go.’
He sat up and stretched. ‘It’s pre-dawn.’
‘And no moon. Get dressed.’
‘Did you find Rosette and Jarrod? What’s happened? Where are they?’
‘Keep your voice down,’ she said, waving her hand. ‘I’ll explain later. We’re going for a little trip; that is, if you still want to help.’
‘Of course I do. Where, though?’
She lit another candle and tossed him his clothes. ‘Where’s your pack?’ She rummaged in the closet for his coat and found his sword by his bed.
Scylla got up and stretched. She seemed unconcerned, as if she’d been expecting this.
‘How’d you get past the temple guards?’
Nell glared at him.
‘Sorry I asked,’ he mumbled, pulling on his pants.
‘Where’s Zero?’ Nell asked.
‘Dorms. Why?’
‘We need him too.’
An’ Lawrence stood, buttoning his shirt. ‘Nell, what’s going on?’
‘You’ll see.’ She watched Scylla head for the door without a limp. ‘How’s her wound?’
‘Healed.’
‘And your head? Can you handle a sword?’
‘Always.’
She clicked her tongue. ‘Let’s go.’
Rosette awoke flat on her back, squinting at the sunlight. She didn’t know how long she’d lain in the sand, but her hair was dry, her eyelids were encrusted with salt crystals and her lips stung. She touched them with her fingertips and winced. Pushing up onto her elbows, she checked Jarrod. He was asleep on his side, his breath rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic motion. There was no sign of a laceration on his head. She looked at him from different angles. Judging by the sun, they’d been asleep for a few
hours—not long enough for the knock on his head to heal. Where was that blood coming from? She checked his hand, the bandage torn loose from the swim. There was no sign of a wound there either, and that had been a deep gash a few days ago. She rubbed her neck, frowning.
Drayco?
Right here.
You okay?
Grand. I like it here. Warm, dry, good nap, good smells. He purred from the shady palm trees behind her, where he sat sculpture-like, eyes unblinking. We need water, though.
‘Good idea. I’m parched.’
And sunburnt.
‘Have you seen the horses?’
They headed east—looking for water too—but I think that’s the long way around.
‘The long way around what?’ Rosette turned over on her belly to look at him.
Around the island.
‘The horses made it? Did you see Wren?’ Jarrod mumbled, awakened by the conversation, not quite grasping the words from Drayco’s mind.
‘Dray says they’ve gone to look for water,’ Rosette replied, sitting up and brushing sand from her arms. ‘The wrong way round.’
Jarrod stood and stretched, peeling off his coat and shirt. ‘Wrong way around what?’
She smiled. ‘The island.’ Rosette pulled off her layers of clothes as well until she was down to a black cotton undershirt and leggings. She laid her things on rocks above the high-tide line to dry and turned to scan the horizon. Waves rolled in, quite gently now, in rows of foamy turquoise and white.
‘Jarrod? This is strange.’
He was staring out to sea. ‘I know.’ He put his arm around her as she came to his side.
‘Something’s not right,’ she said. ‘The colour…’
He didn’t take his eyes off the ocean. ‘I’ve never crossed the straits before, but…’ He pulled her close. ‘There’s nothing like this on the maps. The water is positively turquoise, and this island is mountainous. Huge.’ He tilted his head until his nose pointed straight up and still he had to crane his neck to see the tips of the peaks. ‘All the islands beyond the Emerald Straits are sand-spits, not even a foot above sea level.’
‘And the water’s green, not this shade of blue.’
