Their daughter’s lips thinned. “He went missing some years ago. It was before Tal... died. I’ve tried to track him down with eyes and ears and all the usual channels, but they have found nothing. No one has heard from him.”
“But he can’t have gone – he had our blades delivered to the border only a few weeks ago.”
“So that’s where they went!” Medea huffed and folded her arms. “They went from the vaults last year while everything was being cleaned. And your horses – we recovered them after the battle, but-”
“We have our horses.”
Morghiad, who had been mostly silent, finally spoke. “He could have set these plans in place years ago. Remember when he came to us, Artemi? He said we would have another letter here.”
“Then where is it?”
They waited, but no letter-bearer came to the door this time.
At length, Morghiad sighed. “Perhaps my theory is wrong, but I think we should find him. He could be useful to you, daughter. I would feel more at ease if I knew he was watching your back.”
“I don’t need him now,” Medea retorted sharply, and that did make Artemi very proud indeed, if a little concerned.
Artemi had another question burning inside of her, though her husband’s innards twisted when she
asked it. “Have you heard anything from Kalad?”
“We receive the occasional letter. He was last here for Tallyn’s funeral. That’s it.”
Still alive. That was something. But it was apparent that Kalad would have a more pressing duty ahead of him. Artemi hated herself for thinking of it, but a royal family needed heirs. Unless Medea hatched a trick as Artemi had done, children were unlikely to come from her. Blazes, what was she thinking? How many times had she been a queen and left her country to adopted heirs or named
successors? Stupid Artemi! She promised herself never to think of the problem again, and certainly never to mention it to her children. They had enough burdens to bear.
After she had embraced her daughter tightly, and after she had spent most of the day talking with her father, Artemi went to lie down in the lush, green gardens that Calidell was renowned for. She stared up at the wandering clouds in the sky, clouds that had not altered a whit in the tenthousand years she had spent on the Darkworld, and wondered what fate would decide for her in the years to
come. The skies and the sun would not change across a single lifetime nor a thousand, and yet her perspective on them would change as rapidly as the seasons.
Over a hundred years ago, her long-held assumptions had been crushed with the happiest discovery, one that she had ceased to dream of, and yet it had brought her new fears and levels of misery that she could never have contemplated. But that was love, surely – a gateway into a set of emotions so disparate and opposite that one was always at risk of inciting the other. Great happiness could so easily
spiral into great sadness, and great need would lead to the inevitable loss at the end of it. Tallyn was a great loss indeed.
It was a small leap for Artemi to cast her mind back to Morghiad’s death and the way in which her very being had been hollowed, made into a wizened, old shell for new monsters to take up residence in. She did not want any creatures to return to her ever again; it was too great a risk for those who remained alive. But Morghiad... she could sense that thing in him once more, waiting to rise when he was at his most vulnerable. Perhaps it would
never leave them be.
A tear touched the corner of her eye, and finally the most fundamental difference between her and her lover became clear. Both warriors, both loyal and dedicated to the truth, both bonded for eternity. But in times of sadness, and when free of the monster, she would seek the fires, sun and the skies and the arms of those she loved. In those times, Morghiad sought only darkness and the company of creatures that fed upon decay. It was time to pull him out of it.
A few hours earlier he had gone to stand before their son’s tomb, buried deep beneath the palace. Artemi had refused, of course. She had seen more than enough tombs and memorials in her time, and all those years spent looking at Morghiad’s, now only yards from their son’s - it was not right. Artemi began to make her way toward the palace once more, but she was stopped at the entrance by Koviere. He was holding a letter, and Artemi did not have to guess very hard at whom it was from. The giant handed it to her in silence before walking away.
Artemi,
I am sorry, so very sorry that I could not save Tallyn. There was no way to avoid it, or at least, no way to do so without permanently losing you, Medea and Kalad and far more people than I can count. I tried. I tried so hard to think of a way, but there was none. He had a wonderful gift, but that gift gave him a heavy responsibility.
You must know that he went to his death with honour, and that he gave his life for all of you. Do you recall that dream Morghiad spoke of, when he found that you had been taken to The Crux? He said he was visited
by a ghost of Tallyn. The truth is, he really was visited by Tallyn. Your son had to give his life up to do it, but if he had not, the world you have today would not exist as it does. He knew his fate before he went to it. He died well.
Your death and Morghiad’s well, I must apologise for that too. Fate twists in difficult ways. I had to choose between you and your children, and I knew that you would agree with me on this, but only once you had died. I hope that one day you can forgive me for it.
I know what conclusions you will reach, and from there my predictive powers become useless. I have no idea what will happen when you make your decision. It is all I can do to wish you luck in your quest.
As for me, I have a quest of my own to complete. Our choices may lead us along parallel paths, but those paths will not cross soon. I hope that we will meet again one day, my queen.
With much love,
Silar Forllan.
Artemi had managed not to cry for most of the day, but blazes, she wanted to cry now! How long had Tallyn known his fate? And his gift... It was not right. None of this was right.
Our choices may lead us along parallel paths...
What did Silar mean by that? He had not been explicit about his quest, which probably meant he did not want her to try to interfere with it. Bloody man! Artemi shook her head and squeezed the letter in her fist. Her husband needed her, and that was more important now.
The tunnels beneath the palace were always unexpected: unexpectedly dark without walls that glowed, unexpectedly cool in the absence of floors filled with energy. And yet they felt like the most natural and native part of it. Perhaps it was to be expected that he would feel most comfortable here. After all, it was where he had first
entered the world.
Morghiad folded the letter carefully and tucked it inside his coat. He had not liked its contents at all, not least because he knew what his old friend was preparing him for. It was never easy! Nothing was ever bloody well easy! He felt a sudden pang of upset from Artemi’s emotions, and knew that she was reading a letter of her own. She had not shown it during their travels, but the void that had opened up inside her from the loss of Tallyn was terrible. Even Morghiad found himself balking at his own awareness of it. He had no idea of how to put it right for her.
The letter-bearer, none other than the erstwhile Hunter, watched him from amongst the shadows. “It is a pain you will never forget, but it will get easier with time,” he said. Of course, The Hunter had been a father before. Vanha-sielu outlived everybody. “It was an honour to have shared a name with him.”
Morghiad nodded. “He would not have lived if it weren’t for your actions at Cadra. So many lives depend on the things we do. Is it wrong that I feel some relief? He has died, but he did not die at my hand.”
Silence pervaded the chamber, further cooling the cold air with its inertia. That horrific prediction had been avoided, and The Daisain did not have his disaster. It was the single most reassuring aspect of Tallyn’s death.
A thought occurred to Morghiad. The Hu
nter was not dressed to travel any significant distance. “If you were dismissed, why are you still in the city?”
“I was only exiled from the castle.”
"You love my daughter."
There was a pause. "Yes."
"Are you looking for my
approval?"
"With respect, Mor, it wouldn't mean a damn thing even if you gave it to me. She loathes the sight of me."
Morghiad managed to crack a smile. He laughed. "As well she should. Will you stay while I am gone? I would appreciate it if she had someone with your skills here for her.”
“I had no intention of leaving. Where are you planning to go?”
A sigh left Morghiad’s mouth, much as he tried to stop it. “There is a peace to be made. A union across Sennefhal.” Unite a belt of three countries, and the rest will follow.
That was what quite a few people seemed to expect of him, and it was a duty he intended to fulfil.
“Excuse me? I don’t think I heard it right.”
“I’m going to unite this blasted continent. No more battles. I have the ears of two queens and the blood of a Hirrahan. I can speak to all of them, and make this into a single body that won’t want to cut off its own arm or leg or whatever else.”
The Hunter seemed more than a little incredulous. “No war?”
“Artemi will find it hard to understand too.”
“Morghiad... people fight. Someone’s always got to be blamed for the troubles in society, and the way it gets sorted out is by stabbing them. You have to have enemies to keep your own group united. That’s just how people work.”
“I will help them change.”
The Hunter folded his arms, his dark features crumpling as if he’d eaten something he did not like.
“Tal, you’re here?” It was Artemi. Morghiad had not even noticed that she was so close. The two assassins embraced briefly, but The Hunter knew not to offer his sorrows.
Instead he smiled and made a deeply inappropriate comment about the shape of her hips, which made her smile. It was a good thing to see on her again, and for an instant she forgot her pain. It was only an instant, however.
The hole had returned to her heart by the time she had turned to look at Morghiad. “Tell me more about this peace.”
He explained his plan while she listened, and somewhere during his rationalisations, The Hunter made himself scarce. Artemi folded her arms at the end of it, apparently deep in thought. Eventually she said, “I think
you can do it.”
He had not expected that! Not from his war-maker wife!
“But you will have to do it without me.”
“What? No! I need you-”
“Morghiad, my heart.” She stepped closer to him, so that he could smell the perfume of the soap she had used on her hair. “I would be... troublesome in such negotiations. Too wilful.” Her mouth turned up at the corner. “And besides, there is something else that calls me away from you. I wasn’t sure, but I know what it is now - what I must do.”
He had the distinct feeling he was about to hear about the part of Silar’s letter that he dreaded. “And what is that?”
“I have to find out if we can bring Tallyn back. I will go to the Lawkeepers. They may have an answer.”
“No – Artemi – they will not feel they owe you anything. Or if you must go, then bring me with you-”
“You must forge your peace while the time is right. And I must go to The Crux now. For him – I must do this. I have to find out.”
The monsters of the shadows would walk again. Artemi kept them at
bay for him, but they would walk free if given the opportunity. ”Don’t leave me here without you. I cannot bear it.”
“You have to. Please, give me your blessing to go. You know I will return to you, one way or the other. I will come back to you again.”
He swallowed hard. Was this it? Just these precious few years with her before he had to say goodbye again? It was never long enough! “Will you stay tonight?”
She nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course I will.” Artemi kissed him, and they soon departed to a quiet room so that they could properly make their
leave takings with one another. Morghiad held onto her tightly through the night, and when the morning sun came he cursed it to sink below the horizon once more. It did not comply. The time for parting soon came. Artemi’s hair glowed brilliantly in the fierce light of the gateway, its long tendrils of old gold and fire weaving their way about her head in an expression of joy that they existed at all. Her dark eyes were water-filled but bright with hope. She had removed all of her swords, daggers and her engagement knife. Although she still wore clothes, she looked bare without
her blades.
Morghiad kissed her a final time, memorised her features as best he could and then stepped out of the chamber. Almost immediately, he felt their connection snap like a thin bar of glass, and her stream stopped dead in the ether. He was alone; utterly alone.
Stay out of the dark, Artemi had said, and those monsters can never find you. Seek the light.
Silar ran between the flames like a man with scorpions in his boots. Bloody light, but there were so many blazed fires to keep going! Separate piles of fuel stood in pyramids, their tops lit with the heat of their own combustion. They each burned with a very peculiar glow. It looked like sprays of gold coming out of white – not a normal fire. Not in the slightest. They did not even behave like normal fires. He would attend to one, and then the other with start to die, so he would have to go to that, and then a different
one would weaken... and it was endless!
He had almost forgotten the question he had asked. What was it...? Something to do with the source of life. Well, that was stupid. Of course the answer would be something to do with fire.
Damn it! Another one was starting to fail. He sprinted over to it and gave it a poke with his sword. The flames roused to their former height again, and he started to think. Fires... fires. Blade in the fire... Fireblade! Just then, he caught a glimpse of a woman passing through the trees in front of
Silar jogged toward her quickly, whereupon it became apparent that the woman was Artemi. But she did not notice him, however. Of course she would not. Her mind was focused too heavily upon something else. He was fairly sure he knew what that something was, but he could not quite remember just now.
Blazes, how long had he been in here? A few days? Aweek? Follocks! He turned back to see that one of the fires was dying down again. Damned things! Silar growled under his breath, and readied himself to do a little more
The Law-keepers did not bother to evade Artemi this time. Perhaps they were growing too old for such tricks. The three women had lined themselves up before her almost as representatives of how different three women could be. One was blond-haired, tall and willowy, another was shorter, dark
haired, dark-skinned and had a bold nose. The last one would have looked odd to any Darkworlder. She had wrinkles from her immense age. A young boy with ice-blue eyes clung to Kufya’s legs.
“I have come to ask after my son.”
“Of course you have,” the oldest of them said.
“Can he be returned to life?”
Tiranna shook her head of golden curls. “We do not have the power to do that.”
Artemi felt something break inside her. It was not right! “Where is
his flame? Can I see it?”
“We do not have the power to grant such things.”
“Then who does?! I thought you were the blasted, bloody Law-keepers! My son deserves to live! Please!?”
The blonde one shook her head. “No. No one deserves life. That he got one at all was fortunate. We warned you against conceiving such a child.”
They had not warned her! She had not even remembered her origins here until after he had been born. Stupid, brainless Law-keepers! “If you can conjure breeding partners from fire then you can damn-well conjure my
son!” “You are being rude, Artemi.” “
I am pointing out a fact.” “No,” Kufya said, “For too long we have let you run free. Your offspring were a terrible mistake that we may yet have to pay for.” “Nonsense! They are good! You have your child from Mirel now. I merely wish to see mine. You have forgotten what my husband did for you. He freed you!” And this was precisely why Artemi had not invited herself to Morghiad’s peace negotiations. She started fights. She argued. Artemi was good at being a
warrior, not a goodwill-maker.
“You are not him, and you cannot make bargains on his behalf. Do you not think it is selfish to ask for the life of this boy? What of all the other people who have died? Do you not care for your fathers’ lives?”
“I-” This was different! He had died so young!
“You will pay, Artemi. We have decided. The Darkworld offered you no lessons, so we shall send you to the darkest one. It is the Nightworld for
you.” The Nightworld. Fear leapt into
her skin and began dancing merrily
with her organs. Morghiad would be waiting. Blazes, how long would he wait until he realised? “No... my family needs-”
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