by Matthew Ward
The cat, intrigued by the lummoxes who had disturbed it, padded quietly after us for a time, watching with the aloof and distant interest only such creatures can manage. Was it the same cat I'd seen before?
At last, we came to the stepping gate.
Morecet turned to face me. "When I get clear of this place, I'm leaving the city for a while. But I meant what I said – I owe you. If you need me, look for me in the village of Valna – it's a few leagues south of Edrekan, on the Thrakkian border. We can have a good long talk about the serathi, share a bit of information – that kind of thing."
"I doubt I'll have chance to do that any time soon," I said, thinking about what awaited me back home.
"Perhaps." His mocking manner fell away, replaced by a shrewdness of expression. "But you can never tell quite what the future holds. "Think on this: where were the serathi before they came to Tressia?"
I dredged through my memory. "Thrakkia. The serathiel told me they'd come from Thrakkia."
Morecet nodded. "That's what I understood. So what's the one thing you'd expect to find on Skyhaven that isn't here?"
I frowned. "I don't know."
"Think about it. Find me when you have the answer."
He gave me a crooked smile, and vanished through the stepping gate. I stared after him in puzzlement. Then I remembered that I'd promised to meet Arianwyn, and set off to do precisely that.
I was feeling quite pleased with myself as I made my way back to the gardens. I was still apprehensive of the consequences for what I'd just done, of course, but I knew at least that Morecet wouldn't be haunting my dreams alongside Constans. I would say my farewells to Arianwyn and Koschai, and then depart before Morecet's absence was noted. They could tell the serathiel of my decision in the morning, and I'd be out of the city by then.
Unfortunately, I'd made it not more than two streets when a serathi dropped out of the darkening skies in front of me, and told me in no uncertain terms that the serathiel had commanded I see her.
Immediately.
Nine
"I cannot properly express my disappointment, Ambassador."
I've heard it said that some women look especially beautiful when angry. This was most certainly not the case with the serathiel. Azyra's voice was icily cold, her whole body rigid with anger. She was terrifying, a vision of divine judgement seeking release. At that moment, I think she could have crushed me with as little compunction as I would a rat, or a viper. I'd seen her this way before, just as Myrzanna had been taken into confinement. For the first time, I feared her fate would be mine also.
We were alone, at least for now. I'd been hauled without ceremony to the Courts of Heaven to find the serathiel waiting for me, but the serathi who had brought me had beaten a hasty retreat within moments of arrival. It was not hard to understand why.
"That man had done nothing to justify what you were about to do him," I said evenly.
I could have told Azyra that Morecet had blackmailed or coerced me. The drudge in the gaol could have in no way gainsaid such a story – such a threat could have been made in code, or relied upon knowledge of an earlier conversation. However, I sensed this was no time for anything other than truth. Lying to the serathiel would only make things worse.
Not that the truth was likely to make things better.
"And who are you to decide?" Azyra demanded. "To overrule the Courts of Heaven?"
There was no easy answer. Had I been in her position, had a guest freed a prisoner of mine without leave, I'd be just as angry. I shook my head to drive the comparison from my thoughts. I could think of no circumstances under which I'd order someone remade into a drudge.
Azyra misinterpreted the shake of my head. "Do you mock me?" She stepped briskly forward and seized my shoulder.
I'd sufficient self-control not to flinch, but couldn't help but wince as her fingers dug into my arm. "Not at all."
Azyra released me with a derisive snort. "That man was no simple thief or intruder. Do you think so little of me that you believe I'd sanction such punishment against a mere lost soul?"
I said nothing. I very much believed it.
"That man – that 'Morecet' – is an agent of another power." The serathiel lowered herself onto the throne. "He is a threat to everyone on Skyhaven."
I didn't know whether or not to believe that. I couldn't claim to know Morecet's intentions, or those of his mysterious employer, but there had been something off-key in the serathiel's voice. It wasn't a lie – or at least I didn't think so – but there was something odd there all the same.
"Which of the powers is he an agent for?" I asked carefully.
"Does it matter?" she snapped.
"If I've learned anything, it's that the Great Powers are not equal in thought and deed. Unless you're suggesting that the actions of the Radiant could be in any way similar to those of Jack, or of Malgyne?" She stared at me coldly, trying to cow me to silence through fear of the consequences. Unfortunately for her, and for me, it wasn't in my nature to back down. "Besides their propensity for using mortals as playing pieces on a divine gaming board, of course."
I'd thought the serathiel's gaze couldn't get any frostier. I'd been woefully mistaken. "Is that what he told you?"
"Which of the powers does he work for? You must know."
Azyra leaned forward on her throne. "I am sad to say that my days of telling you anything, Edric Saran, would appear to be over. I offered you my trust, my friendship, and you have misused those gifts. I brought you here so that you might repent your sin." She pushed away from her throne and rose. "Had you abased yourself, I would have overlooked your actions. Instead, you stand proud before me and dictate how my own laws should be observed."
Hands closed around my arms. Two graces, deathly silent, had materialised from the shadows behind me. This wasn't the serathiel offering chastisement; this was sentence being pronounced.
"As you have interrupted the punishment sanctioned by the Courts of Heaven, it seems only fitting that you should make his fate your own," Azyra announced. "You suffer, Edric Saran, from wilfulness, but your spirit is strong. In two dawns time, you shall contribute to Skyhaven's greatness in a new form, one less given to disobedience. I am greatly tempted to have you simply take Morecet's place, a few hours from now. That would have a certain symmetry, but it would also speak of unseemly haste. You may use this extra time to say your farewells, if you wish." She smiled, but I found no comfort in that expression. "It seems fitting. That is when we shall reach the border between your land and Tressia."
I felt sick. I'd never have thought the serathiel would go as far as this. "Do I not get a hearing before the Courts of Heaven?"
"I do not require the full assemblage to pass judgement on a mortal," Azyra said derisively. "Your betrayal brings humiliation enough upon me. I shall not magnify it by putting your guilt on display."
I fought through the fog of terror settling about my brain. I couldn't be made into a drudge, I simply couldn't. Not now I'd resolved to meet my destiny at last. "Don't do this." Even now I couldn't bring myself to plead. "You're inviting outright war with the Empire. When the Golden Court learn what has happened to me..."
"They will temper their outrage, in time. The Tressians forgave us for their village, your people will not long resent your fate."
"You might be surprised," I said, thinking of Calda. This would only spur her on, and would bring her allies she lacked before. "And the Tressians might change their minds when they realise how calmly you deal out punishment of this kind."
"I do not believe so. I believe they will appreciate our restraint at not having executed you."
I sighed, and admitted defeat. The serathiel was not for turning from her course. "What about my friends. What about Arianwyn?"
Azyra smiled beneficently. "They do not share your guilt, so there is no call for them to share your punishment. No harm will come to Arianwyn Trelan, I assure you. I seek only the best for her, as I once sought only the best for you." He
r eyes flicked to the grace at my left. "Take him away."
*******
I'd much to think on as the graces marched me from the Courts of Heaven beneath darkened skies. Should I have handled it differently? Thrown myself on Azyra's mercy? The part of my mind frozen in horror at the prospect of becoming a drudge believed so, but the tiny sliver still capable of rational thought did not. It hadn't escaped my attention that the serathiel had answered few of my questions about Morecet – she'd either withheld information, or else had been lying about his purpose. Either way, I was left with the distinct impression my fate had been a foregone conclusion before I'd even been brought before her.
Could I somehow escape my fate? I hoped so, and kept a very careful watch for any slackening of attention on the part of my escorts. If my futures could now be simply expressed as 'drudge' and 'killed whilst escaping', I'd take the latter in a heartbeat.
Alas, the graces were alert and watchful at all times. I'd been in similarly dire circumstances before, of course, but I'd always been able to rely on Jamar, Constans or Arianwyn. Jamar was surely in a Tressian gaol by now, Constans was dead and Arianwyn... Arianwyn's magic would have been a formidable weapon, even against the serathi, but even with my life at risk, I didn't want to jeopardise her.
Why had the serathiel gone to such lengths to assure me that Arianwyn would be well treated? She'd practically laboured the point. Under other circumstances, I'd have assumed it a deliberate kindness, designed to put my mind at ease, but that no longer seemed in character for the serathiel.
I was thoroughly miserable by the time the graces locked me in a cell beside the one from which I'd lately freed Morecet. They'd have placed me in that chamber, I suspect, had it not still been missing its door. The drudge I'd used to effect the escape was still standing by the long window. He greeted me as I was led past, but I confess I was so lost in self-pity that I hardly noticed, let alone made any attempt to respond.
I watched the graces depart, then sat heavily on the stone bench at the back of my cell. The serathi had left me my sword, for all the good that would do me. I had to get word to Arianwyn. Now, more than ever, I needed to see her. Was she still even on Skyhaven? It had been some time since I'd promised to meet her.
"Drudge?. Can you deliver a message for me?
[[I regret I cannot.]] He sounded genuinely sorry. [[I have been commanded not to follow your instructions, or any instructions that would set you free. The serathi were most unhappy I obeyed them at all.]]
"I'm sorry," I said, and meant it. I'd used the poor creature with as little thought as I would have done a tool. "Have they punished you?"
[[No. This would serve no purpose.]]
"I'm glad."
[[Why?]]
I sighed. "Because I think I've made a terrible mistake, and I'd hate to think someone else suffered for it."
[[I am sorry you are to be made like me. I would not have told them what you had done, had I any choice but to obey.]]
"Why? You don't owe me anything," I said. "You don't even know who I am, not really."
[[One who risks himself to save another should not exist as we do.]]
*******
I spent an unhappy night in that cell, my mind trapped in the horrors of my future. Would I remember what I'd lost? It would be kinder if I didn't, but I found the idea of having no memory of Arianwyn just as soul-wrenching. Surely I'd see her in the morning? Even if Azyra didn't tell her of my fate, Arianwyn would come looking for me.
As it happened, I did have a visitor just after dawn, but it wasn't Arianwyn. It was Koschai.
"Whatever possessed you to do it?" He issued the demand without even a greeting. He paced back and forth in front of the cell as he spoke, clasped hands working in obvious agitation. "You're just as bad as your father, may he know peace."
Despite everything, I smiled at the unexpected compliment. At least, I took it as such, whether it was meant in that manner or not. "I couldn't stand by and do nothing," I pointed out wearily. The sleepless night hung heavily on me, and I was scarcely in the mood for a lecture, no matter how much I respected the source.
"Perhaps, my boy, perhaps. But getting caught? That is most definitely not like your father." He shook his head. "Arianwyn is distraught. She waited most of the night for your return, and then to learn of this..."
"Arianwyn's here?" I asked, rising to my feet.
"On Skyhaven? Yes. Under the circumstances, I could hardly send her back to Tressia, could I? Adanika organised quarters for her, but I doubt she slept a wink. How could you do this to her? Don't you know how much...?" He cut himself off mid-invective, and at last stopped pacing. "I'm sorry, my boy, of course you do." He swayed a little, and grabbed one of the bars for support.
I frowned. Koschai's whole manner was unsettled and restless. And where was Arianwyn? "Koschai, what's wrong? Where is she?"
"She wanted to see you, but Adanika's gone to argue your case, and I insisted that Arianwyn go with her."
"You think that Arianwyn has that much influence?"
"It can't hurt. Though whether Adanika will let her get a word in or not, I couldn't say. She's most unhappy with the serathiel." He sighed. "But I confess that wasn't my main reason. I wanted to talk to you without Arianwyn present. I'm worried about her."
He certainly chose his moments. "What is it?"
"I think her lessons with the serathiel are affecting her. She's been increasingly distant and forgetful these last few days. I've had whole conversations with her that she's later claimed never happened."
"You're not the first person to speak of such things," I said carefully. "Karov and Morecet both agreed on events that she denied. It could simply be the strain of the magic." I was starting to wonder if that was truly the case.
"I've never heard of such a thing," said Koschai. "And that's hardly the worst of it. Part of the reason she didn't sleep last night was because she burst into my chambers a little after midnight. She was almost in a state of panic, and begged for my help. She pleaded with me, said that 'they' were going to kill her."
"You don't think it might have been a waking dream?" I asked. "You said yourself she was distraught. Perhaps it was a nightmare? I've had a few of those myself recently." I spoke as reasonably as I could, but was I doing so to assuage Koschai's worries, or my own looming fears?
"I might have," Koschai allowed, "had she not begged me so cogently. I gave her what assurance I could, and promised no one would harm her so long as I..." He broke off. "This was no dream, Edric. It was something more." For the first time since I'd met him, Koschai looked like a worn old man. "She didn't recognise me, Edric. She didn't know who I was. I sat with her until she grew calmer, and watched over her as she slept. When she woke, she remembered nothing."
"And she knew you again?"
"She did, and was most surprised I'd even needed to ask."
I stepped closer. "Did she remember who she'd been running from?"
"No. I told you, she said she didn't recall any of it."
When it had just been Karov and Morecet – two men I barely trusted – I'd been prepared to believe Arianwyn's memory lapse had been the work of their imagination, or some peculiar conspiracy. But Koschai? He had no reason to invent such things.
I slammed a clenched fist against the bars in frustration. The drudge, clearly concerned I was about to attempt to harm myself, shifted to watch me, but subsided as he realised I'd no such intent. I stared at the cold metal of my cell. Adanika had once told me that metal resonated freely with the soul. Would these bars still radiate my anger after I'd been turned into a drudge? Would a serathi walk past here, years from now, and feel the echo of my vexation?
"I don't have an answer for you, Koschai. I feel that I should," I said at last. "I'm sorry."
"Will you at least talk to her about it?" he asked. "I'm sorry to ask when you have more immediate problems, but..."
"I'll do what I can. But your daughter's a stubborn woman."
"Isn't s
he just?" He gave a small smile. "I suspect that between her and Adanika, the serathiel is having a rough time of things at the moment. I almost feel sorry for her."
"I don't," I said flatly.
He shook his head. "No, no I suppose not. Can I do anything?"
"Nothing that won't see you invested here in my place, I'm afraid."
Koschai arched an eyebrow. "Let's leave that notion for a time when all other paths have failed."
I knew a genuine offer when I heard one, and I knew also that I couldn't accept it. "Arianwyn would never forgive me."
"Then, my boy, I find that we have something in common, no matter how this works out. I'm her past, but you're her future, even my old eyes can see that. Goodness knows that I've not done much for her these last ten years. You can't expect me to stand idly by now." He shrugged. "But let us hope it won't come to that. We shall put our faith in those we love, and hope for reason to prevail."
"We shall indeed," I agreed with a smile. "Thank you, Koschai."
No sooner had the Tressian departed than the smile faded from my lips. Like him, I'd every faith in Adanika's and Arianwyn's determination, but I'd none at all in their ability to change Azyra's mind.
For the next hour, I made a detailed examination of my cage, studying every join, socket and latch in the hope of finding some weakness. When I found nothing of the kind, I began again, this time with a growing sense of desperation. I only halted my fruitless task when another drudge arrived with a jug of water and a small plate of food. Apparently the serathi thought it bad manners to let a condemned man go hungry.
After I'd eaten, I slumped beside the cell door and thought of Calda. Should I have gone back to Tregard with her? I wouldn't be here now if I had, and she wouldn't be about to lead my people into conflict with the serathi – assuming that anyone survived the chaos of the civil war she would unleash. I'd made a frightful mess of everything, and I only hoped I'd be able to forget it once I was no longer truly me.
Arianwyn arrived a little while later. I knew at once from her expression that her meeting had not gone well.
