by Jen Williams
‘When I thought you had died within Joah’s Rivener, I also did things I regret,’ said Frith. ‘And I didn’t have strange god magic addling my head.’
‘Yes. Well. I can say now that I’m really glad you weren’t stabbed to death by that bitch, because I fucking love you, Lord Aaron Frith.’
There was a polite cough, and Frith looked up to see Sebastian standing over them. He was holding three dead rabbits, and like Wydrin, he looked better than when Frith had seen him last – his face was still lined and his beard and hair were unkempt, but there was a peace in the big knight’s eyes that Frith hadn’t seen before, and something else, too. An alertness, a hint of steel behind his smile.
‘Did you just chase those down?’ asked Wydrin. She stood as she spoke and matter-of-factly hugged Sebastian tightly, caring nothing for the dead rabbits. ‘That was bloody quick.’
Sebastian shrugged. ‘I find I am a decent hunter these days, and I thought we might be in need of dinner. And a bit of space to talk.’
And that was how they passed the next hour. Sebastian spitted the rabbits and cooked all three until they were browned and running with fat. The knight ate one himself, tearing the meat from the bones while it was still so hot it steamed, while Wydrin and Frith shared one between them. The last would go in their pack. Sebastian spoke of his time trapped with Y’Gria, describing the gods and Oster’s conflict with them. Frith sensed that there was a part of the story Sebastian wasn’t mentioning, but he also knew that he would not hide something important from them. Wydrin related much of their own journey, her face twisting as she spoke of Frith’s apparent death on the roofs of Lan-Hellis and then she looked down at the sand as she told them of the last moments of the Red Echo.
‘Any other time I could have taken Estenn down, but she’d already poisoned me, back in the artefact room. I was just too stupid to notice.’
‘What happened to her?’
Wydrin shrugged. ‘No idea. I didn’t see her again after I jumped from the tower. We can hope that she was caught in the fires she created, but I doubt it somehow. That one has the luck of the gods on her side. At least what she has left of the Red Echo is useless now.’
‘We should be vigilant then,’ said Frith. ‘She has a particular knack for being where you don’t expect her to be.’ He remembered the sword piercing his back, cold and hot at the same time. Clearing his throat, he added, ‘The Red Echo did a lot of damage, but it didn’t wipe out the city as she’d hoped. We have to assume she will want revenge, and that she will want to be a part of what the gods do at Krete.’
‘What do you reckon to that, Seb?’ Wydrin chewed at a bone, and then pointed at him with it. ‘You said the other gods wanted no part of an alliance.’
Sebastian shifted where he sat. ‘They are unpredictable.’ He paused, then half laughed. ‘And that is an understatement. Res’na stands back from it, wanting to avoid the chaos, whereas Res’ni actively courts it. She seemed to think that Y’Gria was afraid of Y’Ruen. But now that the mages have been significantly weakened? With such a devastating blow dealt here, and their leader infected with Res’ni’s madness, they are as weak as they have ever been. I wouldn’t be surprised if Y’Gria managed to talk them into it, for the sake of finally wiping out the mages. And we know that in our own history they did all finally come to the Citadel together, even if it was in competition with each other. Something about it feels inevitable.’
There were a few moments of silence. The sun had almost set, turning the sky a mottled purple and indigo. The first stars hung over them, and beyond the circle of their small fire Frith could feel the temperature dropping.
‘So what is our plan now?’ he asked into the silence. He looked at Wydrin, the silver mark on her cheek a bright patch on her pale skin, and then at Sebastian, who was smiling faintly. ‘The Black Feather Three ride again?’
Wydrin grinned at them both. ‘Of course. It has to be us, doesn’t it? Anyone else would fuck it up. Which reminds me,’ she came gracefully to her feet and stepped around the fire to where Feveroot was still tightly curled in his fox shape. ‘I think we might have a new temporary member. Hey, Feveroot, how are you doing?’
The demon creature stirred, the red mark on his black fur flaring into life. ‘I have had better days.’
As if Feveroot were some particularly lazy cat and not a shapeshifting demon, Wydrin leaned down and picked him up, settling him easily in her arms before sitting back down.
‘Human. You smell of the sea.’
‘I do at that. Now, I thought I might have seen the last of you, demon, but you took the phial and you helped us anyway.’
‘I’ve no doubt we only survived Y’Gria’s palace with … this creature’s help.’ Frith looked up at Sebastian. The knight looked unconvinced; of them all, Sebastian had the most reason not to trust a demon.
‘You talked to me,’ said Feveroot. He sounded uncertain, his long fox’s snout pointed towards the ground. ‘Before, when I was in the tree, I never needed to talk to anyone. I would listen to the birds and the other small creatures, but listening was enough. Then Joah drew me from the tree and trapped me, and I was a specimen to him. You, though, you asked questions. You listened to my answers.’ The small fox shape sat up. ‘That seemed … it seemed like something that shouldn’t go unmarked.’
Wydrin nodded. ‘And you are still wounded?’
‘I ebb,’ said Feveroot, as if this explained everything.
‘You need blood, right?’ To Frith’s surprise, Wydrin reached down for the dagger at her waist.
‘Wydrin, what are you doing?’ Sebastian’s tone was sharp. There was a flash of that steel behind his eyes again.
‘What I am doing is helping a friend,’ she said firmly. She pressed the edge of her blade to the back of her hand. Frostling was as sharp as ever, and a thick beaded necklace of blood grew on her skin in an instant. She held it out to Feveroot, who hesitated. ‘Does it matter if it’s freely given?’
‘No, it doesn’t. And thank you.’ The shining black shape of Feveroot grew fluid again and flowed over Wydrin’s hand and arm. There was a second where the red patch on the demon’s back grew brighter, rivalling the glow of their small fire, and then he drew back. Wydrin flexed her fingers.
‘That tickled.’
‘And I am replenished. Thank you.’
‘Where is the glass phial now?’ asked Frith. ‘Wydrin gave it back to you?’
‘It is still here.’ Feveroot’s form became liquid once more, parting to reveal the crystal bottle. It was there, and then in moments covered over again. ‘I’m not sure it’s what you intended, Wydrin of Crosshaven, but I have my freedom now. Joah will not be happy.’
‘Oh what a shame,’ Wydrin waved an idle hand. ‘I can’t tell you how much I don’t care about Joah’s feelings on the matter. So will you come with us, Feveroot? We’re still rather stuck for transport.’
‘Eventually, I will return to the tree.’ The demon paused. ‘Or a tree, somewhere. Joah burned my old one. But for now I will travel with you.’
‘It will take Y’Gria some time to gather the gods together, and then more to convince them to follow her,’ said Sebastian. ‘That might give us a head start.’
‘That is our plan, then?’ asked Frith. ‘We are going to Krete?’
‘Where better?’ Wydrin leaned back from the fire. She was smiling but her eyes were cold. ‘We’re going back to the Citadel to kill us some gods.’
84
As they approached the eastern gate of Krete, Frith found his stomach churning with a mixture of relief and dismay. The city was still standing, the half-built Citadel still perched at its highest point, and the gates were as busy as ever. Men and women and children came and went with carts and horses and caravans, and the walls barely contained the miasma of smoke and noise that was the aura of a busy city. The gods had not yet attacked and they still had time. Time to do what, though, he wasn’t sure.
‘So we get in there, go straight t
o the palace, and warn the mages,’ said Wydrin. ‘I doubt they’ll be glad to see us, but if they’ve some warning they can put up extra barriers or something.’ She shrugged. Feveroot, who, after flying them across Relios in the form of an eagle, was now perched on her shoulder in the shape of a small monkey with red eyes.
‘Or it could give them a chance to get people out of the city,’ said Sebastian. He narrowed his eyes at the surrounding desert. ‘Although where they would go to, I don’t know. Perhaps it would be better to be behind the walls at least, than trying to hide behind sand dunes.’
They passed through the busy gate. There were mages stationed there, Frith saw, their long robes marking them out from the other men and women. They were watching the beacons rather than the sky, he noticed.
‘If all the gods appeared together at once, they would be overwhelmed,’ he said in a low voice. ‘For too long they have counted on the reluctance of the gods to work as a single unit.’
No sooner were they through the gate and into the main body of the city than a figure in a hooded robe approached them; it kept its head down and its face in shadow, but the voice was familiar.
‘There you are! It is good to see you alive, goodness knows we feared the worst from the reports that have been coming in. This is Sebastian, is it, your friend? Hello! Yes, well, he certainly seems … large enough. Will you come with me? Xinian’s face will be a picture, she assumed we’d seen the last of you, and certainly that I’d never see you coming back into Krete.’
‘Selsye?’ Wydrin grinned. ‘Is that you?’
The figure dipped her head and briefly pulled the hood back. Selsye winked at them, before letting the fabric fall back into place. ‘Come on. Follow me.’
Selsye led them down a side street, and then down several winding alleys. Her caution made Frith uneasy, and he found himself glancing up at the windows for who might be marking their progress, and watching the people they passed closely. Eventually, they came to what looked like an abandoned building – a narrow place built of red brick, squeezed between a tannery and an especially seedy-looking tavern. It was still early, and the tavern windows were dark; it was clearly a place that opened late and stayed open through the early hours. Selsye approached the partially boarded-up door of the red brick building, and up close it was possible to see that the nails had been carefully removed from the planks on one side. She knocked four times, and then they slipped inside, closing the door quietly behind them. Inside was a low-ceilinged dusty room that smelled strongly of damp clothes, with a single oil lamp burning low in the corner. Xinian marched out of the shadows towards them, and for one disorientating moment Frith remembered Joah’s bunk room; how she had formed out of the darkness in pieces of grey shadow.
‘You made it to Krete!’ Immediately she turned to Selsye. ‘Were you followed here?’
Even in the poor light Frith saw Selsye frown. ‘No, my love, but the news isn’t good. Reis has half the mages here looking for us, and the walls are barely manned at all.’
‘We have bad news too, I’m afraid,’ started Wydrin, but Xinian cut her off with a gesture.
‘About Raistinia? We know. Or at least, we guessed. I have been doing my best to monitor the messages coming in from the city.’ She took a pained breath. ‘At least there are still some people left there to send messages, I suppose. The Red Echo was deployed then, I take it?’
‘I am afraid so,’ said Sebastian. ‘But Wydrin managed to stop it at least partially. A good portion of the city was burned, and I imagine a huge number of people perished.’ He paused. ‘I am sorry. But it wasn’t the complete genocide Estenn intended.’
‘And the fanatic herself?’
‘We don’t know what happened to her, Xinian, but listen,’ said Wydrin. ‘The gods, they’re coming here. Y’Gria promised as much. You have to get the mages ready, or you have to evacuate.’
Xinian snorted. She walked away from them towards a crate, from which she pulled a dark, stoppered bottle. ‘That will not be possible. I have no authority here. Why do you imagine I am hiding in this hovel and not in my apartments at the Arkanium?’
‘What happened?’ asked Frith. ‘What happened at Lan-Hellis after we left?’
‘When it was realised that Wydrin had escaped, Xinian was inevitably connected to it and declared a heretic,’ said Selsye. As she spoke, Xinian produced a number of tin cups and filled them from the bottle. The warm smell of brandy filled the room. ‘Reis accused her of, well, a lot of ridiculous things, and the orders are to kill her on sight. I managed to leave Whittenfarne on the pretence of bringing the rest of the artefact collection here to be stored in the Citadel, and we met up in secret. Shortly after I got to Krete, though, Reis disbanded the Citadel project.’ Selsye shook her head, brows furrowed. ‘Truly, he has lost his wits. It was our best chance of ending this war, and now he has his soldiers taking it to pieces! Xinian and I have been hiding out here, learning what we can. None of it is good.’
‘And it’s even worse than that,’ said Wydrin. ‘Y’Gria knows what you were planning with the Citadel, so they all do by now. There’s no way they’d fall for that trick. The Citadel is useless.’
They fell silent for a moment. Xinian passed out glasses of brandy, and Frith drank his down gratefully. He had the beginnings of an idea, but the scope of it frightened him. The burning of the alcohol in his stomach was a good distraction.
‘Then we are defenceless?’ Selsye’s voice was very quiet. ‘If the gods band together, they can wipe us from the map in moments. And even if they don’t, we are doomed to endless war.’
‘Do you have any food here?’ asked Wydrin.
‘Perhaps it’s not completely hopeless,’ said Frith. They all turned to look at him, and he wondered at the madness he was leading them to now. ‘If we cannot bring them to the Citadel, perhaps we can bring the Citadel to them. Where is Joah now?’ He swallowed down the surge of bitterness in the back of his throat. ‘I will need his assistance.’
There was food, much to Wydrin’s relief. From her pack Selsye produced a block of hard cheese, a loaf of black bread, and a greasy roll of ham tied with white string. She passed this to them and left, promising to retrieve Joah; he was there in Krete with them, finding out what he could. Not as well known as Xinian or Selsye, it was easier for him to move without drawing attention. The ham was cut down to the bone by the time Selsye returned with Joah in her wake, and with the food and brandy in her stomach, Wydrin felt better than she had in days. She stood up as they came into the room, taking note of the grave look that passed over Sebastian’s face – no doubt he was remembering the thing whose life she had finally ended on the cobbled streets of Skaldshollow. Joah, his young brow unlined, looked very little like that creature.
‘I am glad to see you all live,’ said Joah in a low voice. ‘When we guessed the news from Raistinia, I feared the worst.’
At the sound of his voice, Feveroot uncurled himself from his spot on the floor, red eyes glowing in the poor light.
‘And you still have the demon! I have a great deal more I would like to—’
‘Feveroot’s his own creature now, kid, and you won’t be getting him back. Now you need to shut your trap and listen to Lord Frith here, because he has an idea that you might be able to help with, and we don’t have much time.’
Joah opened his mouth to argue and Wydrin shifted her posture slightly, one hand resting on her dagger. After a moment the young mage moved to sit on the crates with the others. Frith nodded at her, looking simultaneously amused and slightly pained. He hadn’t spoken of his idea while they had been eating; he’d said he needed to think some more.
‘I am going to speak now,’ he said quietly. ‘Some of what I say will sound unlikely. But I ask you to let me tell it all, and to trust that I know what I’m talking about.’ He took a slow breath, his narrow face sharp as a dagger in the light from the oil lamp. ‘I was once familiar with a device that could tear the Edenier from inside a living being.’
Immediately, Xinian, Selsye and Joah all began to speak at once.
‘Enough, mages!’ Wydrin gave them all a severe look. ‘Do you need to be reminded how little time we have before Y’Gria and associated arseholes turn up to burn your city to the ground?’
Reluctantly, they grew quiet, and Frith continued.
‘This device targeted the Edenier inside a person and tore it away from them, storing it in a chamber for later use. Now, if I am not mistaken, the gods are beings largely composed of pure Edenier.’ He shifted on the crate, his eyes downcast. Wydrin felt a pang of sympathy – she knew what it had cost him to use the demon-tainted magic. ‘I propose that rather than luring them inside the Citadel, where the wards will trap them, we make the entire city of Krete a trap.’
‘I have never heard of such magic,’ said Joah. Wydrin shot him a look, and he held up a hand. ‘Please, wait. It sounds outlandish, yes, but it reverberates with something I have wondered about for some years. The fact that Edenier is a measurable force within us. Something that could, potentially, be extracted. Do you believe you could build such a device here, Lord Frith?’
‘With the magical artefacts already stored in the Citadel, yes,’ said Frith. ‘It would need a combination of Edeian crafting, and Edenier. And … some other techniques that are difficult to describe. I will require your assistance, Joah.’
The young mage raised his eyebrows at that. ‘What makes you think that I would be able to help?’
Frith looked away for a moment. When he met Joah’s eyes again his face was carefully blank. ‘I think there’s a good chance you will have a natural affinity for this.’
