by Jen Williams
‘Inky, you must all go back.’ Now that one of them had emerged, there were multiple snouts edging out from behind tree trunks and from within bushes. Their minds pushed at her own. ‘You’re the eldest. You should convince them.’
The small dragon-kin at her feet took no notice of this, leaning heavily on her leg instead, almost like a cat after its tea. Ephemeral pursed her lips. They were too young to understand the danger they were in.
‘I am already late,’ she told them severely. Multiple orange eyes watched her, unblinking. ‘I must be swift now, or Terin will be at the lagoon without me, lost …’ Her voice trailed off. Next to her, Inky opened her mouth wide, showing off her teeth.
‘Follow me, then,’ she said, reaching out for all their minds at once, whilst marvelling at how easy that was. ‘Come with me, little ones, and we shall hunt as we go.’
Ephemeral ran into the trees, and the tide of dragon-kin came on after her.
47
Xinian the Battleborn led them through a broken courtyard teeming with men and women, and they came to a part of the Arkanium that looked much older than the surrounding buildings. Three grey stone walls were still standing, and the mages had built a new roof over the top, the wood still pale and raw. As they approached, a pair of mages guarding the entrance bowed deeply to Xinian and moved swiftly out of their way, while a short woman in crimson vest and leggings hurried over. She wore thick fabric strips around both burly arms.
‘Commander!’ The woman had frizzy auburn hair held back in a stained kerchief, and at the sight of Xinian her eyes were bright with excitement. ‘We weren’t expecting you. What’s happened? Are we going out on a raid? Do you need my assistance?’
‘Silvain, I require the use of two of the carapacers. Get them ready.’
The woman raised her eyebrows. ‘Of course, Commander.’ She ran back into the building ahead of them.
‘What I propose,’ said Xinian as they walked into the echoing space, ‘is that you split up. Two of you check on one piece of the artefact, two of you check the other. They are kept some distance apart, as you can imagine.’
‘That’s fair enough,’ said Wydrin. ‘If we split up, we can cause trouble faster.’
Xinian narrowed her eyes at this. ‘To use this method of transportation, you will need mage assistance.’
Inside the hall was a tall wooden screen. As they approached, a pair of men folded it back, revealing two large blocky shapes. Silvain was there, pressing her hands against their shiny flanks with a look of intense concentration on her face.
‘The carapacers,’ said Xinian. ‘This is what we use now that our transportation spells are too dangerous. There are only five in existence.’
They looked like a pair of giant beetles made of shining green metal. As they got closer, Frith saw that what he had taken for shell casings were engraved with the looping forms of mage words, and these were what Silvain was pressing her hands to. As she did, each one glowed briefly with a pearly light. There were two lamps mounted to the front of the green domes, which only enhanced the insectoid impression, and underneath he could see what looked like stunted gold legs mounted with springs.
‘How do you get around on these things exactly?’ asked Wydrin.
‘You’re unbound?’ asked Silvain, looking up from her task. Frith caught the curious look she shot Xinian, but the Commander apparently decided not to notice it. ‘Ah, well, they essentially run on a sort of magical clockwork. We wind them up,’ she pressed her hand to one of the mage words, and waited for it to wink with light, ‘and let them go.’
‘Fascinating.’ Not quite able to help himself, Frith joined Silvain by the carapacer device, peering closely at the symbols etched into the green metal. ‘You fill it with Edenier somehow?’
‘Sort of,’ said Silvain, looking mildly impressed. ‘We store the magical energy within it, and then whilst on board we use the Edenier to steer it. And then, when it runs out, we top it up again.’
‘They are not here to learn the intricacies of the Edenier, Silvain,’ said Xinian, a cold note in her voice.
‘Can I ask why they are here, then?’ asked Silvain quickly. ‘The unbound are not normally allowed to just wander around the Arkanium.’
‘Do you see them wandering?’ Xinian glared at the woman, and then gestured at the carapacer with the arm that ended in a stump. ‘Two of you will travel with me, and Silvain will accompany the others to our other destination, since she is so curious. Who is going where?’
Frith saw Wydrin exchange a glance with Sebastian. ‘Frith and I will travel together, and Sebastian and Oster will take your other contraption.’ She grinned. ‘That’s at least one decent sword arm on each team. One of us is bound to run into Estenn, but I hope it’s me.’ She touched the dagger at her hip, and Sebastian nodded.
‘This woman will not get anywhere near our strongholds,’ said Xinian. She walked around to the side of the nearest carapacer, where a short rope ladder hung from its broad top. ‘But I promise that she will regret attempting to disrupt our plans. Silvain, show your guests to their transport. You’ll be making a trip to Relios today. Threefellows and Lord Frith, you are with me.’
Xinian gestured to Silvain, who hurried over to receive quiet instructions. Frith saw the woman’s eyes widen, and then she was dismissed. Xinian turned away from her and climbed the rope ladder that hung down the side of the carapacer, and then dropped down into an alcove that Frith couldn’t see.
‘Looks like we’re splitting up again,’ said Wydrin. ‘I can’t say that I’m pleased about that.’
Sebastian nodded gravely. ‘If all else fails, come back to Krete,’ he said. ‘We can regroup there, if we need to. Do you remember where the Hands of Fate tavern was?’
Wydrin grinned. ‘Of course I do. It was the beginning of this whole mess.’
‘It is unlikely to be there now,’ said Frith.
‘Whatever is there currently, that will be our meeting place, even if it’s a half-built street.’ Sebastian shook his head slowly. Behind him Oster stood, silently watching them. ‘It’s still too much to take in. That we have travelled this far—’
‘I suggest you get a move on,’ called Xinian from above them. ‘Or we’ll have to charge the ’pacers anew.’
Abruptly, Wydrin hugged Sebastian, squeezing him fiercely. The big knight smiled and kissed the top of her head – how long, Frith wondered, had it been since they’d seen a genuine smile from him? When Wydrin released him, Frith took his hand and clasped it firmly.
‘I will see you both again,’ Sebastian said, but his smile faded as he said it. ‘I swear it by Isu.’
They climbed into their ’pacers. The tops of the contraptions were hollowed out and upholstered with cushioned silk. Frith noticed that there were more ropes attached here, made of dark green braided silk. Xinian positioned herself at the front of the seating area, her legs crossed. She gestured and the big lamps on the front of the carapacer flickered into life. Next to them, Silvain settled herself at the front of the other carapacer with an undisguised expression of cheerful anticipation on her face as Sebastian and Oster climbed awkwardly in behind her.
‘Shall I lead us out, Commander?’ she called across.
‘If you must,’ said Xinian. ‘Be careful of us as you leave.’
Silvain nodded, and held her arms up in front of her. As they watched, two oval-shaped sections of the shining green metal lifted up, and a pair of shimmering wings emerged, composed of emerald light. For a moment they seemed to flicker in and out of existence, and then they began to move, so quickly that they became a brilliant green blur. The carapacer shuddered and then lifted jerkily off the ground. It hovered there for a few seconds, and then it glided swiftly forward, out of the hall and into the bright sunshine of the courtyard. They could see Silvain shifting in her seat, murmuring words under her breath and then the carapacer shot forward, curving up into the sky until it was lost from sight.
‘Extraordinary,’ breathed Fr
ith to himself. He turned back to Wydrin and was surprised to see her face solemn. He lowered his voice. ‘What is it?’
‘Saying goodbye again,’ she said. ‘It feels like a mistake.’ She looked up at Frith, her green eyes like smoky jade. ‘When we sailed down the waterway into Euriale for the first time, I had this feeling – like this would be the end of something. When we found Sebastian again, I decided I was just being ridiculous, but here we are again, and that feeling hasn’t left me.’
Frith found that he did not know what to say to this. The carapacer jerked, and abruptly they were lifted up into the air. There was a faint hum, just on the edge of hearing; the sound of many spells working in conjunction at once. It reminded him of the Rivener.
‘Hold on now,’ called Xinian from the front. The carapacer shuddered once more, and they coasted gently out into the courtyard. Around them, mages were watching, no doubt wondering where their greatest military commander was taking a pair of unbound civilians. The Edenier wings buzzed frantically, and before Frith could quite prepare himself for it, they swept up into the air, leaving the Arkanium far beneath them. Frith peered over the side, and felt his stomach turn over. Riding Gwiddion had been one thing – the griffin was a solid beast of muscles and fur and intelligence – but the contraption beneath them felt all too frail.
‘Just once, I would like to walk somewhere,’ murmured Wydrin. Then she shouted over to Xinian, ‘didn’t you say these things eventually wind down? What happens then?’
Xinian glanced over her shoulder at them, the bright sun winking off her bald head. ‘I would tie yourselves in, if I were you.’
48
Estenn settled the final rock into place, pushing it into the sand firmly, and her mind came back to her with a snap.
She straightened up and looked around. She was dimly aware that for the last hour or so she had been moving rocks around under the punishing desert sun. Her head was throbbing and the skin on her face was tingling. The line of rocks marched off across the red sand, turning and bending here and there to a design she couldn’t even guess at.
‘Why have I done this?’ she murmured to herself. Since the visit from Res’ni and Res’na, her mind felt clouded, all her usual iron purpose thrown to the winds. ‘I should not even be here, I should be travelling, I must stop them. I must.’ The world spun around her and she squeezed her eyes shut. ‘I have a task to perform. For them.’
She opened her eyes and looked at her hand. The ridge of purple flesh no longer hurt, but it felt very warm, as though it were infected. For all she knew, it was.
‘Why would she do that?’ she asked the empty desert. ‘I am here to save them.’
A whirring noise from above caused her to look up. Hanging in the blue sky was what looked a giant green beetle, its wings beating in a brilliantly glowing blur. As it descended, it kicked up puffs of red sand all around, and Estenn held her hands over her face to keep it getting in her eyes. The strange object landed just beyond where she had been placing her rocks, and a tall man with a bald head jumped out. He was in his fifties at least, and stocky, and he had some sort of ornate sigil tattooed onto his scalp. He wore an olive-green cloak over travelling clothes that looked both unsuitable for the desert and as though they had recently seen a lot of hard use. He looked furious.
‘What do you mean by this?’ He gestured towards the rocks. Behind him, a man and a woman were watching her from the back of the strange flying contraption.
Estenn cleared her throat and willed her mind to recover. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘The wolf, woman! I assume this was you, since you are standing there with sand all over your hands and a gormless look on your face. What do you mean by it?’ Now he was closer Estenn could see that his arms were criss-crossed with long lengths of white silk, all of them painted with words. A mage, then. This was one of the people she was here to kill. She thought of her swords, lying in the sand.
‘Who are you?’ she asked, and was pleased to see a spasm of anger cross his face. This was good. She was feeling better already.
‘I am Archmage Reis, you unbound whelp. Do you mean to call the gods here? Is that what you’re doing?’
Estenn looked at the rocks. She supposed that, from above, the pattern of them might make some sense.
‘It’s a wolf? That’s what it looks like?’ she wondered aloud.
‘Pretending ignorance now, is it?’ Archmage Reis scowled. ‘As unbound, you hardly need to pretend to that. Of course it’s a wolf. What are you? An agent of the Twins? Or just one of these raving fanatics who believes we should let them crush us into dust?’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Either way, we’ll take you with us to the Arkanium. Xinian can deal with you.’ He turned and gestured to the man and the woman still waiting for him. They climbed out of the contraption. Estenn felt her heart grow lighter. It all seemed obvious now. They had given her a gift.
‘You are the Archmage?’ Her face split into a genuine smile. The man frowned in response, looking confused. ‘Your fame reaches further than you realise.’
She stepped forward, and before he could react she took hold of his hand with both of hers and squeezed it. The wound on her palm burned with sudden ferocity, and she watched with pleasure as the Archmage’s eyes widened with surprise.
‘What are you doing?’ he cried.
‘I’m just giving you a gift,’ she said softly. ‘The gift of faith.’
He yelped with pain and yanked his hand away. His two attendants sprinted over, but it was too late. Reis lifted his head, and his eyes were wild. He held his hand out in front of him, and there was a bright purple mark on his palm, throbbing with strange colours.
‘It’s just a little more of what you already had,’ said Estenn. ‘The paranoia, the rage, the need for control. I’ve just given your true nature rein. How do you like it?’
‘Sir, are you all right?’ The man was young, his brown skin as yet unmarked by lines. Before he could react, Estenn lunged and pressed her hand to his cheek, and felt the madness bite. The woman, who was quicker off the mark than either of her male companions, lifted her hands to summon some mages’ spell, but Archmage Reis gestured and she was suddenly a flaming, screaming torch. The scent of burning flesh filled Estenn’s nostrils, and she smiled. It was one of the familiar smells of home.
‘You will take me where I need to go,’ she said, pointing to the strange flying machine. ‘You will take me to Whittenfarne now, lord of the mages, and then I will kill you all.’
49
As soon as they were in the air, Silvain was full of questions. She kept glancing over her shoulder at them and shouting her queries against the wind, which Sebastian couldn’t help feeling wasn’t the most reassuring behaviour for the person apparently keeping this strange craft in the air.
‘So who are you people? You can trust me. The Commander does, she pretty much tells me everything anyway. So there’s no harm if you do tell me.’
Sebastian looked over at Oster. The young god turned away.
‘I am Sir Sebastian Carverson,’ he said, leaning forward so that he might be heard more clearly. ‘This is my friend, Oster.’
‘And you’re what? Swords for hire?’
‘It’s complicated,’ said Sebastian smoothly. ‘Can you tell us where we’re going?’
‘I suppose you’ll see for yourself soon enough.’ Silvain shifted in her seat and the carapacer tipped slightly, turning them to the north-west. Below them orange sands undulated like waves. ‘We’re heading for Relios. Do you know the region?’
‘I’m reasonably familiar with it.’
‘You’ve probably heard of Ashbless Mountain, then. It’s a volcano, but it blew itself all to hell a good hundred years ago now. The small towns and villages that surrounded it were wiped off the map, and no one has been able to settle it since. It’s an empty shit hole of a place.’
‘So the mages have a base there?’
‘We have a base hidden inside the volcano. It’s
called Poledouris, and very few mages have been there, let alone unbound. So I guess you should be honoured,’ said Silvain. ‘Oh hold on, looks like we might have trouble.’
Sebastian sat up, trying to look over Silvain’s head. At the same moment, Oster spoke.
‘There’s more of them here,’ he said, his voice pitched low. ‘I can feel them.’
At first Sebastian could see nothing out of the ordinary. They were flying roughly fifty feet above the sand, and ahead he could see more desert, some stunted trees, and the occasional pile of rocks. They passed over a steep dune and were faced with the remains of a burning town. Sebastian realised that the smell of smoke had been in his nostrils for some time.
‘What was this?’
Silvain shook her head. ‘Oh some bloody place. Might have been Zakrnthos, or Maylabria – they were both small towns around here, I can never keep them straight. It’s nowhere at all now.’
The fires were starting to burn down, and as they passed over Sebastian could see the broken black shapes that had once been houses. He couldn’t make out any people, although he wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad sign. The flesh on the back of his neck tingled, and he looked up into the blue sky, half expecting to see the might of Y’Ruen hanging above them, holding their fiery deaths in her throat, but there was nothing.
‘Was this the work of the dragon?’ he asked, dreading the answer.
‘No, it was her. Shit.’
Out of the wreckage ahead of them, a strange billowing shape was emerging. At first Sebastian had the confused impression that it was some sort of enormous jellyfish, something ensconced within delicate plates of soft tissue, and then he saw that there was a woman at the heart of it – a giant woman around twenty feet tall, her skin bone white and her hair the deep green of a forest. Great curling ram’s horns pushed through her mane of emerald hair, and below the waist her body split into multiple questing tendrils, like the roots of a tree. She was floating up from the burnt town like a sea current carried her, and she held a fiery trident in one hand.
