by Stephen Deas
She burst into tears, and the tears turned into great heaving sobs. Truth was, if she was honest, she was glad that the Arbiter was taking her, and she was glad that she had no choice. She needed just to be away. To have some time to think. To not see Belli’s face every hour of every day and see him standing over a talking corpse; and yet it made her feel so utterly horrible because she was abandoning him when he needed her most and she hated herself for that, and she knew that if she was given the choice then she’d stay because that was right and he deserved it, but the Arbiter hadn’t given her the choice and she was so damned grateful because that meant it wasn’t her fault when she left him here alone . . .
What did that say about her? If he knew, if he could see her inner thoughts, wouldn’t he hate her? He certainly ought to.
She closed her eyes, thinking furiously about how she could keep Belli safe and what she ought to do for him and how much he deserved everything she could give, and then she must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew there were men barging through her door and the Arbiter was with them, dressed in all her flaming finery.
‘Give her five fingers of the sun to be ready. She may bring whatever she wishes.’ Red Lin Feyn swept out and Liang was about to follow, all ready to start her arguments as to why she should stay so she could look after Belli, when another pair of soldiers came running in and gave her a wooden box with a tiny brass catch. Inside it six wax-sealed vials lay cocooned in soft velvet nestled over packed goose down. Her breath caught in her throat – she’d given the box as a present to Belli not long after he’d arrived. She couldn’t remember where she’d got it – Zinzarra, perhaps – but the vials were her own work. They were simple little shapings, each no more than a few minutes’ effort, but they were all unique and she’d worked the necks into differently shaped dragons for him. As she opened it, a piece of folded paper fell out, tied in a ribbon. She picked it up and read it:
‘Be safe Li.’
Tied around the neck of each vial was a tiny label. Liang almost burst into tears again. She stuffed the box into her bag and hurried after the Arbiter, determined to stop her and demand to stay, but when she reached the dragon yard, she abruptly stopped. The yard was swarming with soldiers. Most were the Vespinese who had come to free Mai’Choiro Kwen, lined up in arrow-straight ranks. Their polished gold-glass armour gleamed with coppery fire in the dawn sun, their ashgars rested on their shoulders and their shields were raised to their chests in perfect lines. Their emerald and silver capes billowed and flapped like flags in the constant wind and the jade in their helms and the coloured silks they wore across their chests seemed to glow.
In the centre of the dragon yard a small golden gondola sat beside the one the Arbiter had taken for herself, but the soldiers weren’t for her. Across the yard and close to the walls – as far away from the dragon’s perch as they could be – three gondolas of jade and bright shining silver rested with their ramps still closed. Red Lin Feyn stood waiting for them in all her splendour, in her Arbiter’s robe of flames and with the white headdress on, her arms spread wide and shielded from the wind by gold-glass screens while Elemental Men stood on either side. More killers watched from around the dragon yard, conspicuously outlined atop the walls. The hatchling dragons paid no heed to it all, almost hypnotised by the Godspike as ever. The great dragon was nowhere to be seen.
Liang’s escort stopped dead. They were Vespinese soldiers themselves, proud in their silver and emerald, and Liang saw they were looking up at the glasships overhead, whose chains had carried these new gondolas here. When Liang followed their eyes, she understood. The glasships above the silver and jade gondolas were stained a silvery green. The impurities made them slower but they also made them unique and only one sea lord flew them. Shonda was here at last.
For a fleeting moment, at the top of her ramp, the Arbiter became Red Lin Feyn again. She shot Liang an irritable glance and made a sharp gesture for her to come. Confused, Liang ran to the Arbiter’s side as the silver and jade gondolas cracked open. More Vespinese soldiers were running out from the barracks, forming themselves up into an honour guard as quickly as they could. The dawn sun shone across the storm-dark, lighting its swirling cloud with apocalyptic orange. The white stone of the eyrie appeared touched with pink.
‘Go inside and make yourself invisible,’ muttered Red Lin Feyn as Liang reached the gondola. Liang hurried in and climbed the steps to the upper level. She’d never been up here. It only occupied half the width of the gondola’s interior and was reached by the sweep of an arcing silver stair. There was a huge bed and several closets and racks for . . . she had no idea what they were for but they were empty. She felt like an intruder, a thief, a burglar. This was where the Arbiter slept, where she stripped away the trappings of the Dralamut and became just an ordinary person, and Liang had no place being here. She put down her bag and wished she was somewhere else, wished that Shonda had arrived ten minutes earlier so she could have stayed in her room until all this was done or perhaps gone and spent an hour with Belli. Or later so she could have made her case to stay.
Which made her think again of the pale corpse of Baros Tsen turning to her to speak. She shivered. The alchemist was her slave. She often forgot but others didn’t. She had responsibility for him and it cut both ways. The killers would look at her long and hard once they knew what he could do. It was all too much to think about.
She went to the window to see what was happening. The silver gondolas of Vespinarr had their ramps down now. Two dozen more soldiers were lining themselves up, pushing the other Vespinese back to make space. The wind tore at the emerald plumes on their helms and at the gold banners that flew from the long spiked staves they carried instead of ashgars – and then Liang frowned as she saw what else they were carrying. They had gold-glass globes in their hands and at their belts – and yes, they were armoured like soldiers but they weren’t, they were enchanters! How many of them? She put a hand to her mouth and almost gasped and then counted to be sure. Twenty-two. Twenty-two enchanters. Hingwal Taktse rarely held more than fifty. The Cashax school was smaller and the palace in Khalishtor was smaller still. Across every realm of every world there were no more than a couple of hundred of them.
Twenty-two Hingwal Taktse enchanters. With that number working together they could do . . . well, anything really. They could build a cage for the dragon! Even the killers would have to pause surely? She watched as each enchanter lifted their glass orb and shaped it into a curved screen until they had a corridor running the length of the dragon yard from the middle of the three silver gondolas to the base of Red Lin Feyn’s ramp. A man stepped out of the middle gondola. Bright green robes swirled behind him, while the braids of his hair were so long they dragged on the ground. He walked along the line of enchanters as though inspecting them, now and then shaking his head and gesturing to their glass screens until he was content, and Liang had to wonder what he was doing until at last she understood. They were shielding the path to the Arbiter from the wind. Twenty-two enchanters and Shonda had brought them to keep the wind off him?
The man in emerald came steadily on until he was so close that Liang couldn’t see him from the window any more, even when she stood on tiptoe and pressed her nose to the glass to peer over the curve of the gondola’s silver shell. There was a long pause and then a second man came out in a feather robe which spread out around him and seemed to float above his feet. There were patterns woven among feathers of shimmering electrum, a pale coppery gold, but they were subtle and too far away for Liang to make them out. His braids were even longer than the first man’s and trailed behind him as though floating very slightly above the ground – no, they were floating, each one tipped with a tiny gold-glass sled no bigger than a finger. He wore a silver crown inlaid with jade. Shonda, sea lord of Vespinarr.
A movement on the eyrie wall caught her eye. An Elemental Man. The hatchlings all had their eyes on Shonda as though they hadn’t forgotten the last time he’d come. Sho
nda himself never looked away from the Arbiter.
Liang moved back to the top of the stairs. She took a farscope out of her bag and spent a moment with it, reshaping the glass to bend it to look round the corner. She lay down at the top of the steps just out of sight and poked the bent end around the edge, feeling even more like an intruder and a little like a naughty child spying on her elders. Clearly the Arbiter had meant her to hear whatever was to be said otherwise why beckon her inside and then tell her to hide? Although why the Arbiter should want her here, Liang couldn’t begin to guess.
At the top of the ramp two killers moved to bar the sea lord’s way. Shonda stopped. He stood in front of Lin Feyn far longer than he should until, like the waiting man in green, he dropped to one knee. Whatever words passed between them were lost to the wind, and then the Arbiter turned, walked into the gondola and took her place on her crystal throne at the head of Mai’Choiro’s table. One killer sat to either side while the others vanished. Into the air around them, Liang supposed. Watching. Watching her too, no doubt.
Shonda entered alone. The ramp closed behind him and the rushing roar of the wind across the eyrie abruptly ceased. Liang saw Shonda’s robes clearly now: the designs, in slightly paler silvery gold or a touch darker with a hint more copper, were of three dragons and a lion, the sigil of his city. They were exquisitely done, almost as though they were living things. Each time he moved the dragons moved too, entwining around one another. He stared long and hard at Red Lin Feyn, sitting in all her splendour. ‘Arbiter. You summoned us. We came.’
‘And with some difficulty, I must suppose, given your delay. I do hope the journey wasn’t too much trouble and that my summons was no inconvenience.’
‘None at all, lady. Indeed, I had planned to visit your court to request the return of my kwen.’
‘Then I am relieved and very glad to have summoned you. It would be such a shame for you to have come all this way for only one reason and then to have to leave with disappointment as your only reward. I’m afraid your kwen will not be returning to you. You will need to find another.’
Shonda paused and then cocked his head. ‘Your investigation is complete, lady?’
‘No, Sea Lord Shonda, it is not. Did Mai’Choiro Kwen engineer the destruction of Dhar Thosis on your behalf?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Very well. You may go. One testimony remains to be heard. You will remain at my court until that time.’
Shonda’s lip curled. He laughed, a low throaty sound. ‘Shrin Chrias Kwen? He continues to elude the Elemental Men, lady?’
‘No. Baros Tsen T’Varr, Lord Shonda. I must hear Baros Tsen T’Varr speak before I am done. Surely you must see the necessity?’
‘I had heard he was dead, lady,’ said Shonda, and Liang caught the moment of surprise on his face.
‘Someone did indeed try very hard to leave that impression.’ Lin Feyn cocked her head. ‘Was it you?’
Shonda hesitated again. He frowned and looked to Liang as though truly confused. ‘I am at a loss, lady, as to what you can mean.’
‘No matter. Tsen himself, I imagine, seeking to escape his punishment. You may go. Amuse yourself. I hope you brought something to do. We are rather remote, there is little entertainment and I’m afraid you may be here for some time.’
‘Lady Arbiter, if you have no further questions for me then I will return to Vespinarr. I will of course be available to be called again.’
‘No, Sea Lord. I have decided you will remain here until I give my verdict.’
Shonda laughed. ‘Lady, I have a city to run, a fleet, an empire. You have taken my kwen and my brother my t’varr is—’
‘Of no consequence.’ Lin Feyn didn’t even raise her voice, yet she cut him dead where he stood. It was a beautiful thing, and Liang made a quiet mental note to ask how she did it. ‘You may go. My killers will see to your safety.’ Liang imagined the Arbiter smiling, though doubtless her face remained perfectly still. As she watched Shonda compose himself, the most powerful man in all the worlds dismissed like an errant child, Liang found herself starting to like this Red Lin Feyn. Eventually Shonda dropped to one knee. ‘Lady. May I ask, lady, how long I will be remaining here?’
‘As long as is required, Sea Lord Shonda of Vespinarr.’
Shonda rose. Liang thought he left with surprising grace, all things considered. She crept sheepishly back to the window and watched him and the man in green return to their gondola. The ramp closed behind them, sealing them in. The twenty-two enchanters with their gold-glass screens remained exactly as they were. Liang could almost feel them wondering what they were supposed to do. Nothing, apparently, so they simply stood and waited, and she tried to imagine Baros Tsen T’Varr doing something like this and then keeping her standing like a lemon. She might have slapped him for that. But then Baros Tsen didn’t have twenty-two enchanters to pick and choose between. He had her and that was that.
She shaped the farscope back to its original form, picked up her bag and started down the stairs, and then froze as an Elemental Man appeared in the gondola close to the Arbiter and almost collapsed. He clung to the table and hauled himself upright, clutching his side. He was covered in blood. He saw Liang, vanished, appeared again at the Arbiter’s ear, whispered for a moment and then was gone. Liang didn’t move until Lin Feyn glided across the gondola and raised a hand, beckoning her to follow out across the dragon yard. Red Lin Feyn had to stoop to walk against the wind, the headdress whipping around her. No enchanters to keep the wind from pulling at the robes of the Arbiter, Liang thought. Yet she’s one of us. She could have emptied Hingwal Taktse if she’d wanted.
The last gondola in the dragon yard was a small golden thing decorated with ships and sea serpents, the sigils of the city of Tayuna. As soon as Red Lin Feyn was inside it, she lifted the head-dress off and almost threw it on the floor.
‘I swear whoever designed this couldn’t possibly ever have worn it themselves.’ She put it gently on a table and glowered at it, then smiled, though her eyes carried a flash of warning. ‘I have some excellent news, Chay-Liang. The rider-slave slew the missing hatchling at sunrise this morning. She returns with its corpse. It is of no consequence to my purpose one way or another . . .’ again a flash of warning and this time a flick of the eye to yet another Elemental Man who stood patiently inside ‘. . . but it’s one thorn fewer to prick at my killers.’ She picked up an ornate fan made of silk and silver and ran her fingers over it. ‘You will come with me because I may have need of an enchanter. I will not say where and you will not ask. You will be told what you need to know when the moment arises. We shall begin in Kabulingnor and we shall visit other sites in Vespinarr. You will not speak to any we meet unless I permit it.’ She looked away. ‘You will find the gondola has been partitioned so we may travel together without inconveniencing one another. You will find the space allotted to you above. I suggest you acquaint yourself with it. You may come when I call for you.’ Which was as clear a way as could be of telling her that she was dismissed.
‘Lady!’
The Arbiter looked up sharply. ‘Enchantress?’
‘I cannot come with you.’
For a moment the Arbiter was Red Lin Feyn again. She frowned fiercely, walked past Liang and closed the gondola ramp, then stood in the way so Liang would have to push past her to open it again. ‘I do not believe I gave you a choice,’ she said crisply, flicking another glance to the Elemental Man. ‘Your reluctance stems from concern for your slave?’ She sounded dismissive. ‘We will discuss him if so.’
‘Lady, I . . .’ She didn’t get any further. The Arbiter put a finger to her lips and suddenly Liang couldn’t talk any more. Words formed in her mind and in her throat. Her lips and tongue moved but not a single sound came from either.
‘In good time, Chay-Liang.’
Short of actually attacking the Arbiter of the Dralamut, which would get her killed on the spot by an Elemental Man in however little time it took him to cross the
gondola and stab her, Liang couldn’t think what she could possibly do except turn her back, climb the steps and go where she’d been told. Waiting for her she found a tiny windowless compartment that was so low she had to stoop. She dropped her bag on the minuscule bed. Even a slave might have objected to the space the Arbiter had given her, but so many thoughts were already crowding her brain they were almost bursting out of her head and she had no space for trivia. She felt the gondola move immediately. They were off! Already! She snapped and snarled and punched her fist into her hand. So this was getting what she wanted, was it? Leaving Belli behind? A bit of time and space of her own to think? Only that had been what she wanted last night, not now. Now she wanted to be with him, to keep him safe, and it was far more than a sense of duty from a good mistress towards her slave. She sat heavily beside her bag and balled her fists. She thought she might throw herself down and beat them against the mattress but that wouldn’t do any good. No one would come and the Arbiter wouldn’t change her plans.
She sat for what seemed a long time, wondering what she could do, realising that the answer was nothing and then wondering it again anyway. The thought that something could happen while she was gone, that it really might this time, that she wouldn’t be there to stop it, was paralysing. Not the dragon or even the rider-slave this time, but the killers. And when she tried to tell herself that she was being foolish, that the killers didn’t know what he’d done, that Belli was clever enough to look after himself, it just wasn’t enough.
Liang felt her ears pop. They’d crossed the edge of the storm-dark and were coming down to a more comfortable height over the desert. She’d grown used to the altitude of the eyrie, where every step climbed left her gasping. The richness of the air close to the ground was intoxicating. She could almost taste it. Her ears popped again. There was a rushing sound from below that came and went. The low muttering of talk between the Arbiter and her killers was done. Liang lay very still and listened but she couldn’t hear a thing. A moment of silence passed and then: ‘Chay-Liang?’
