The Empress and the Acolyte

by Jane Fletcher

  “Why not?”

  The screams rose to a new crescendo. Tevi saw the way people were running and looked in the other direction. Shard was approaching again, up the valley. The dragon’s wings beat a slow, unhurried rhythm, graceful and unstoppable. Tevi watched in horror as the dragon’s mouth opened and a fountain of fire erupted. Another line of blazing death was scored across the city.

  Tevi was too shocked to think, but her body moved instinctively. She pushed back up onto her feet, shrugged the shield off her shoulder, and slipped her left arm through the grip. Her right hand tightened on the shaft of her spear. She did not know what Shard was up to, but had the nasty hunch that it was her fault. Equally, she did not know what she could do, but she had to do something.

  Shard had stopped spewing fire and was lazily circling the city. It soared a few hundred feet up, then rolled into a dive and came down right in the heart of Uzhenek. The huge shape disappeared behind the burning buildings. The dragon had landed.

  Tevi charged into the city. People were fleeing blindly. Tevi ducked and barged her way through the oncoming torrent. Bands of smoke rolled across her path, obscuring vision and making her eyes sting. She fought her way onto the main east-west thoroughfare and turned in the direction of where Shard had landed. The road she was on climbed gently. Tevi remembered that Bykoda’s magical citadel had occupied the centre of Uzhenek, raised on a low hill on the valley floor.

  The number of people surging past her dwindled as she raced nearer to the middle of the city. Over the crackle of burning thatch, Tevi listened for the sound of the dragon. An outbreak of shrieks and wild shouts seemed a likely guide. The burning remnants of a thatch roof blew across her path. Tevi hurdled over and charged on. She dived through a wall of smoke and found herself suddenly in the open.

  She had been right. This was the spot where Bykoda’s phantom towers had stood. Of the previous ethereal beauty, all that remained were a few dilapidated stone structures scattered across the otherwise empty hilltop.

  Shard was there, less than a knife throw from where she stood. While Tevi watched, the dragon ripped the side off one building. From the clamour of hysterical voices raised, it was packed with people.

  Why did they take refuge there? Tevi wondered, and then answered her own question immediately. Uzhenek was a city made of straw and hide. No other building materials were available on the grasslands. Even wood was a rare luxury. Bykoda had imported the stone for a few vital buildings that she did not want tied to her magic, and the terrified townsfolk had seen them as the best protection from the dragon’s breath. But they were no protection from the dragon’s claws.

  People were scrabbling free of the broken building. Some tried to run, but most seemed frozen in fear. One figure, a woman, fell at the dragon’s feet. Shard pawed at her with its claws and hooked out a tiny squirming shape wrapped in a shawl—a baby. The woman leaped up and made a futile attempt to get back the wailing infant. Shard hoisted the baby out of reach, and the woman collapsed back to her knees, shouting incoherent threats. The dragon ignored the woman and swung the prize up to its huge jaws. Clearly it was now time to eat. Tevi did not wait to see more. She took three long steps and hurled her spear at the dragon.

  The spear had not been designed for use as a javelin, and was not weighted for throwing. It wobbled and twisted in flight, and hit the dragon’s flank broadside on. Even had it flown straight, the chances of the point piecing the dragon’s thick scales were not good, but it was enough to get Shard’s attention. The dragon dropped the baby and leapt towards Tevi. It landed a scant twenty feet from her. Tevi drew her sword.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Shard did not answer. The dragon’s mouth opened as it drew in a deep breath.

  “Fire!” The warning voice of prescience sounded in Tevi’s head.

  Jumping left or right would be no help. Tevi had already observed the dragon’s ability to track moving objects. Only one direction had any hope of safety. Tevi dived forwards. A blast of searing heat flowed over her back. The acrid stench of burning fur filled the air. The cloak would be ruined, but it had saved her from serious harm. Tevi hit the ground rolling and ended up between Shard’s front legs. She doubted that the dragon would willingly roast its own stomach.

  The grass was wet. With luck, it would put out any fire on the cloak, but Tevi did not have time to deal with burning clothes. She thrust her sword at Shard’s soft underbelly. The well honed blade bit through the scales and crimson blood splattered on Tevi’s face. However, from her prone position, she did not have the reach to stab more than eight inches deep. For a beast the size of the dragon, this was no more than a flesh wound. She tried to scramble up for a better strike.

  Shard reared back on its hind legs and then lunged down, jaws agape. The dragon’s mouth was lined with rows of dagger-like teeth. Tevi had got as far as her knees. She swung her arm across defensively and backhanded the dragon with her shield. The impact was so hard it sent tingling darts flying from her fingertips to her shoulder.

  Shard threw back its head and roared, in either anger or pain. Tevi gained her feet and thrust forwards once more with her sword. This time, she connected with more force, at the base of the dragon’s throat. Blood spurted out, but it was still far from a fatal injury.

  The dragon’s wings unfurled. With a second great roar, it left the ground. The wind from its ascent sprayed yet more of its own blood on everything below.

  Tevi stared up. This would be the end, she knew. Shard could pour fire on her from far out of reach. Why had it brought her here to kill her? It made no sense. Nothing about the dragon had ever made sense. She remembered the words it had said before leaving its lair: “We’re going to be fighting once we arrive. You need to get yourself suitably equipped.”

  At least Shard had not lied.

  But then she noticed that Shard was not wheeling around for another attack. The dragon was flying away, laboriously, into the east. The flap of its wings was uneven. Its head was sagging. Its legs dangled limply beneath it. Everything about the dragon spoke of pain and defeat. Had she injured it more than she knew? Because unless this was just one more bit of incompressible dragon behaviour, Shard was running away, defeated. Tevi stared after it, bewildered.

  The jolt as someone grabbed her round the waist caught Tevi by surprise. She looked down. The baby’s mother was on her knees, her face buried in Tevi’s stomach, sobbing in gratitude. More folk surrounded them. Then people appeared from all around in an ever-growing crowd. Some hung back shyly. Some patted her back. Some grabbed her hands and kissed them. Those farther away punched the air in rejoicing, and they cheered.

  Everybody was cheering.

  *

  The distant way station was blurred and faded in the dull grey light, as if it were melting into its surroundings. Jemeryl viewed the buildings from the top of a slight rise. In her estimation, it was just over an hour’s walk away and should easily be reachable by nightfall. The station presumably marked one standard day’s travel on horseback from Tirakhalod. It would be a good target to aim for. The rain had stopped for the while, but more would come before dawn, and a roof over her head would be nice.

  Jemeryl adjusted the straps of her backpack and strode down the slope. All day, her mood had been lurching about. Maybe it was just as well that she had been alone. She was sure that anyone else would have thought her mad as she switched from hysterical sobbing to placid acceptance and back again in the space of a minute. Perhaps she was mad.

  Her current chain of thought was playing along the lines of giving the talisman to Mavek. He would use it and probably destroy the world, but it would not be her fault directly. And if it did work, against all the odds, then she and Tevi would be together, just so long as Mavek’s alterations did not change the past so much that the two of them had never met in the first place. Jemeryl shook her head at her folly. She would never willingly give up the talisman. Not unless someone caught her at the wrong moment. And any
way, if Anid had vented her anger on him, Mavek might no longer be around to give the talisman to.

  Even so, she wished that Mavek was with her on the road. She could say sorry for what she had done to him. They could then sob on each other’s shoulders about their lost partners and he could tell her how to survive through the years ahead. Tears started to stream down Jemeryl’s cheeks again. She had given up wiping them away and now carried on, half blind, down the hill.

  The light was fading rapidly as she finally approached the way station, but it was still good enough to reveal the details of the buildings. On one side of the road was a guard post, similar to the one back by the bridge. Beside it stood another stone-built shelter that was probably a blacksmith and farrier. Jemeryl spared a quick glance through the open doorway of the guard post. No one was about. No weapons or personal possessions lay scattered. The fire in the hearth was out. Next door, the furnace in the smithy was also cold.

  Facing the guard post on the other side of the road was a two-story wooden inn. The walls were rough cut timber, crudely tacked onto the crooked frame. The roof was a mildew-covered thatch, coming adrift in the wind. This building also looked deserted. The windows were all shuttered, although the door stood half ajar. The tap room was dark and silent. No smoke issued from the chimney. Behind it were stables and a hay barn.

  When Bykoda was alive, the inn would have been disguised by a glamour to make it seem luxurious. All who passed through would have been impressed by Bykoda’s wealth, unless they had the gift to see through the magic. Now anyone could perceive the inn for the ramshackle heap it really was. With Bykoda’s death, her Empire was falling into chaos, and Mavek would not be able to hold it together for long, even if he had recovered from the soul-shredding.

  The thought produced a twinge of guilt, but Jemeryl’s mood was currently in the numb, detached phase. She was incapable of any emotion. The empty inn would suit her fine. She did not want company. A jovial innkeeper and room service would have been wasted on her. Getting drunk sounded attractive, but was probably not a good idea. She felt terrifyingly out of control as it was. Alcohol could only make things worse. Fortunately, there was little chance that looters would have left any bottles of wine behind.

  Jemeryl shoved the inn door fully open with her shoulder and stepped into the room. Immediately the smell of blood and death assailed her. The year was not advanced enough yet for the swarms of flies that bred on decay, but a scurry of rats spoke of other scavengers. Dead bodies lay in the tap room, and Jemeryl had the sure sense that they were human rather than animal.

  While her eyes adjusted to the gloom indoors, Jemeryl stood in the doorway. However, her sorcerer senses were not dependant on light. She probed outwards through the fifth dimension, searching for threats and clues as to what lay before her. The results were confusing. Despite appearances, the inn was not deserted. Horses were in the stables and four people were alive in the next room.

  Why had they not called out? They were standing so still that it had to be deliberate. Were they survivors of the trouble here, and frightened that she was one of the attackers, returned? Or were they the killers, anxious not to be caught for their crimes?

  Jemeryl’s eyes were now accustomed to the low light and able to assist her other senses. Two bodies lay at the side of the room. Jemeryl went and crouched by their side. One was a young boy of no more than six. The other was older. They were both northerners, with long blond hair and broad faces, but the likeness between them went further, enough to show shared family ties. The man was most likely the father, uncle, or elder brother. From the position of the bodies, he had died trying to protect the boy, and failed. Both had been run through with a sword or spear.

  Jemeryl lifted the man’s arm. The skin had a purplish tinge and the fingernails were pale, but there was no stiffening in the joints. He had been dead for only a few hours. She carefully placed his hand back over the boy’s and then raised her head. She let her senses probe deeper.

  These two were not the only murdered victims in the inn. At the rear of the tap room an open doorway lead to a storeroom beyond. More bodies were in there. Blood tracks on the floor showed where they had been dragged through from elsewhere in the inn. Somebody had been trying to clean up. Had her arrival disturbed whoever it was? And why hide the bodies rather than bury them?

  Jemeryl guessed that she would soon be getting answers. The living people in the next room were moving. One was opening a door behind her very, very slowly and carefully, so as not to make a noise. The effort was completely wasted. Normally, Jemeryl blocked out the auras of people around her. Life would be far too distracting if she did not. But at the moment, the fifth dimension had most of her attention. The aura behind her was such a tense knot that following the person’s actions could not have been easier. Jemeryl waited until the door was fully open before turning to face the sneak.

  A woman stood there, dressed in shoddy remnants that had once been the uniform of Bykoda’s army. She held a spear in her hands. From the bloodstained point and shaft, Jemeryl thought that she could work out what was going on, but it was best to make sure.

  “Did you kill these people?”

  The armed woman was visibly startled to be discovered and addressed, but she recovered quickly. “Me and my mates.”

  “Why?”

  “Same reason we’re going to kill you. We want your gear and we can’t be arsed with arguing.”

  The woman’s face twisted into a snarl and she launched herself forwards. Jemeryl let her take two steps before throwing out her hand and twisting the elemental forces of the sixth dimension. Green static rippled over the woman’s body, crackling and hissing. Apart from this, she dropped without a sound.

  Shouts erupted in the room beyond. “Shit! It’s a witch.”

  “Run!”

  The pounding of a panicked stampede faded to silence. By the sound of it, the fallen women’s comrades were not coming to her aid. Heroism could not be numbered among their virtues. Though even if they had rushed into battle, it was too late for her. Jemeryl rose and followed. By the time she reached the rear door of the inn, three horsemen were disappearing from the stable yard.

  Jemeryl considered sending a ball of fire after them. She even went as far as pulling back her arm, reaching through the sixth dimension, but stopped. Yes, they were murderers and thieves who were taking evil advantage of the anarchy. But it was not like her to go seeking blood. She had killed her attacker without thinking, and it had not been necessary. A harmless display would have sent them all running. In fact, had she made it clear that she was a sorcerer from the moment she entered the inn, she would never have been attacked in the first place. What had happened to her? Had she not caused enough hurt to others recently?

  Jemeryl dropped her face into her hands and cried. She realised she had just spent a whole two minutes without thinking of Tevi.

  When she was calm again, she returned to the tap room. Now three bodies lay on the floor, one solely on her conscience. The gang’s scheme must have been to make the inn appear deserted and then ambush all unsuspecting travellers who entered, children included. They had not even had the courage for an open fight. Their preferred mode of action involved sneaking up and stabbing their victims in the back. But Jemeryl would put an end to their murderous trap so that they could not drift back and start again after she had left. The inn would make a fitting funeral pyre for the dead.

  Jemeryl was about to leave the tap room when the woman on the floor caught her eye. The thief was about the same size as her. The clothes should be a fair fit, and the fleeing bandits had not taken their fallen comrade’s horse with them. Jemeryl had already decided to claim it. Adding the uniform would help her blend in on the road. How many deserters were wandering across the plains? She would be just one more.

  If Mavek retained anything of his sanity, and had not been killed by Anid, he would be looking for her. He would expect her to be disguised—which was one reason why she had made no
attempt to change her appearance. The telltale trace of magical transformation might make her more conspicuous, if anyone was checking for it. But the simple switch of clothing would be undetectable.

  Jemeryl quickly stripped the woman and went across to the guard post. She had no desire to sleep among the corpses in the inn. Yet the guard post had its own associations. The layout was too much like the one where she had spent three days waiting for Tevi. Each night she had gone to sleep hoping that the next day would see them reunited. She now had nothing more to hope for. There was nowhere on earth that she could go and wait for Tevi to arrive.

  The pain gripped her with a physical force. Jemeryl sat on the edge of the bunk, arms wrapped around herself. Through it all, the talisman was a seductive force, tempting her, making each moment a fight and twisting the knife still further.

  At last she slept through sheer exhaustion.

  *

  The damage to Uzhenek was less severe than had at first seemed likely. Tevi learnt that torrential rain had fallen all morning before she arrived. The straw houses had been sodden. Those touched directly by the dragon’s breath had burnt, but the fires had not spread. She’d had the chance to view the entire city as she was carried around, shoulder high. People crowded the streets to watch her pass. More food, drink, and gifts had been pressed upon her than she could possibly accept.

  Night had fallen before the celebration showed signs of calming down. The crowd around Tevi thinned. The more sedate had gone to their beds. The more rowdy had passed out drunk, but an exuberant crowd still surrounded her. The first that Tevi knew of something new about to happen was when a ripple of quiet flowed across the gathering. The general carousing did not stop completely, but a nervous edge crept in.

  The people nearest Tevi stood aside to reveal a group of three newcomers who wore the uniforms of officers in Bykoda’s army.

  “Greetings, stranger,” one of the lieutenants addressed her.