by Ashley Capes
“And what talents do you have, then?” Elina asked.
“Plenty,” he grunted.
“We still need to know who is allowed to move freely through the city and under what conditions,” Never said. “So we’re back to me sneaking in first.”
“Then how?” Tsolde asked.
“Bluff my way inside.”
Tsolde shook her head. “I don’t know. You said Isajan was spreading the word to look for us. That would include descriptions of you, Never.”
“True.” He’d forgotten about that – highly inconvenient. There was another way of course... but was he ready to share it? Did he have a choice? The Brotherhood, who controlled the largely forgotten Fire-Gate, were hardly easy to contact from the wrong side of the city. “There is a way – if the moon is hidden – that no-one will see me.”
“How?” Elina asked.
He hesitated. “I’ll show you under one condition. No questions, because I don’t know the whole of the truth. Agreed?”
“Cryptic,” Vantinio murmured as he turned.
“If it’s the only way,” Tsolde said with a shrug. “Show us.”
Never stood back, glancing side to side. There was enough room but still he did not make a move. Luis would accept him, and Tsolde no doubt. Vantinio, well, it was hard to say. And Elina... she probably still hadn’t shared all she knew about the Amouni. But what other option did he have? Never pushed his cloak free and rolled his shoulders. Muted pops followed as his wings unfurled and he sighed as they stretched to their full span. Finally! After so long retracted, allowing his wings some freedom was most welcome.
Open mouths and wide eyes were clear in the blue light.
Silence stretched.
Finally Vantinio whistled. “See. I made the right choice.”
“How?” Luis asked.
“And when?” Tsolde added after swallowing. She moved a little closer. “Can I touch them?”
He angled a wingtip to her as she passed off the blue-stone. “Forgetting my request, aren’t we all?” he said with mock-sternness.
Tsolde took his feathers in shaking hands. “Aren’t they soft? Come, Elina,” she said.
But Elina had folded her arms, though she still seemed awed, as if she could not focus fully upon her disapproval. Was she thinking of her order’s hopes and dreams? That he truly was going to end up being a help to the world? “Why did you hide this from us, Never?”
“Us? You’ve not long returned, I’d remind you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Various reasons. It was nothing I wanted Sirgeto to learn of, for one.” He looked to Luis. “Somehow, Cog knew my wings were dormant. And by somehow, I mean Snow knew. It’s merely another of the mysteries surrounding my heritage for now. Like I said, I cannot explain it. I don’t know myself.”
“You saw Cog?”
“Yes. He was waiting for me in Disan; he took the last of the chila powder and then blackmailed me into awakening my wings.”
Luis frowned. “But why? What reason would Snow have to help you?” he said, then apologised. “I know he is your brother. But I don’t trust him. And my ribs still trouble me at times.”
“I don’t trust him either, Luis,” Never said. “And that is my own concern. Snow would only awaken my wings if it served him somehow.”
Vantinio cleared his throat. “You know, none of this is making much sense.”
“Ah, you wouldn’t know, of course.” He outlined the bare facts and finished with his question from the Broken Plain. “Still happy to play along with us?”
Vantinio’s usual neutral expression appeared a little shaken but he shook his head. “Despite all of what I’ve heard, I haven’t changed my mind. Like I said, I made the right choice. If anyone can protect me it’s you.”
“Never, can you be sure you’re not playing into his hands by coming here?” Elina asked.
“I cannot simply let him do as he wishes.”
“Nor should you, but if you’re captured –”
“I know, Elina,” he said, softening his tone. “It’s dangerous. We all know that. But this is the best way since I don’t want to risk your lives too. I will fly over the walls, learn what is afoot in the city – if Snow is even here – and then we will enter if needed. Otherwise, north to the Empress, perhaps that is where ‘Tendov’ is at work.” He flexed his wings, stirring the hair and clothing of his friends. “If I’m not back by dawn – return to the Broken Plains and wait for me there.”
“And how long should we wait?” Luis asked.
“If I don’t return, flee to Jenisan or even Sirgeto. You’ll know if it’s been too long – I’m a fast flyer,” he said with a grin, but he couldn’t hold it. “Watch over each other.”
Never slipped into the trees then angled away from the camp, stumbling once before he found clear ground – one of the many trails leading toward the city. He sprinted along it, spreading his wings then leaping up into the night.
He beat his wings hard, driving his body higher. Cold air rushed across his face and hands as he spiralled up, breathing deeply. His muscles seemed to groan at the effort after long disuse, but everything came back quickly. He caught a wind-current and climbing was suddenly swifter. The ground receded until it became a dark, featureless sea broken by dwindling lights from the Vadiya camp. A camp mostly of tents. There was little in the way of war machines; no catapults or wheeled rams, instead, just rows and rows of soldiers. And why not? They hadn’t needed them to take Isacina by surprise, sliding down from the mountains. Such machines would be further north. And so it was only tents that spread before the huge, closed gates and the towering wall, some forty feet high.
Yet Never was already well above it, looking down on the small shapes of guards that paced its length. None saw him as he angled away from the walls to fly across the city, rooves and squares flowing below, street lanterns casting a scant glow.
Pacela’s Spire loomed ahead, the white wings like charcoal in the night. Yet yellow lights dotted its surface, along with the tower itself, rising in a beautiful spiral. Candles from within, their light somehow enhanced by the special glass used by Pacela’s faithful.
Never banked, slowing his flight. A fine vantage point.
A walkway ringed the spire’s peak, guarded by a stone rail. If he was careful, it would make a fine landing point. Never circled the tower, lowering himself until he was close enough to judge his landing, then pumped his wings in a sharp flurry, slowing to thump onto the walkway. Excess momentum from his landing sent his outstretched hands slapping against the stone wall.
He grunted at the shock that ran along his arms. Not too bad, overall.
Never turned to the rail and leant against it to stare down on the city. Shadow obscured much and activity was limited below. The broad thoroughfare that led up toward the huge, gleaming dome of the palace appeared to be guarded by checkpoints at several intersections, otherwise he saw little of use.
There was some activity from inns nearer the gate, light flashing on steel, but this high up, the wind still swirling, he heard no voices. Daylight probably would have helped; he’d see merchant trains or even who and how many people could move around un-accosted. Of course, daylight meant he’d be just as visible and wings or no, the Vadiya were doubtless still looking for him.
If he swooped down lower, maybe to the next largest building –
“Pacela!”
Never spun, hand going for a knife hilt.
A Priestess had fallen against the spire wall beside an open doorway, where there had been no door before. Her whole body trembled and she was mouthing something to herself. A prayer? Her pale yellow robe was adorned by a single sprig of juniper sewn over the breast. Which made her an acolyte, if he recalled correctly. It had been so long since he’d actually seen a Priestess. How long had they been hiding themselves away now?
He raised empty hands. “I mean no harm, Lady.”
She swallowed. Her eyes were so large, it was like
staring at a doe. A stab of guilt ran through him. He’d terrified the young woman with his carelessness.
“You...” she trailed off.
Never did not approach, instead he leant against the rail, drawing his wings closer to his body. “Forgive me, I know I’ve frightened you but I will leave soon. But if you could help me first, that would be wonderful.”
Her trembling eased and she seemed to regain control of her voice. “Who are you?”
“My name is Never and I am someone who wants to help the city, that is all.”
“You’ve come to help us?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes lit up. “Then you are Her messenger? I must tell the High Priestess Jardila.” The acolyte turned for the door.
“Wait, no,” Never said, unable to keep alarm from his voice.
The young woman fell to her knees. “Forgive me, Messenger.”
He approached. “What is your name?”
“Lina.” She did not rise.
“Lina, you can stand. Please, I’m not one for ceremony and nor am I a messenger from Pacela but I do need your help. Please stand.”
She rose, keeping her eyes downcast. “Thank you, Messenger.”
He sighed. “Lina, you shouldn’t call me that because you’ll only be disappointed. Now, I need to ask you a few questions, can you help me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, what of the Vadiya. Are the people of Isacina free to go about their lives?”
She nodded. “Yes. For the most part. Only, none may bear arms and the palace is closed... at least, that is what Father Gelvi has said.”
Good, that made things a little easier. “And what of the gates?”
“Open in the day but sealed at night. I feel the boom in the walls of my room,” she said, raising her head a little.
“Thank you, Lina. Now, what about trade? Merchants?”
“I’m not sure.” She looked down again. “We do not leave the Lady’s Spire much, even less so now that the Vadiya are here. They tend not to trouble us... they allow us to leave for supplies but that is all.”
“Hmmm.” Any wares brought into the city would be searched, that was simply standard practice for an occupying force. And it did seem as though merchants were free to move around the city, only not the palace. But with no cart or goods... no, it was not the best option.
But something Lina said bore real possibilities.
“Lina, do you have access to more robes?”
A slight frown crossed her brow. “Of course, Messenger. Do you need clothing?”
He grinned. “I and others, Lina.”
Chapter 17.
“Am I covered?” Tsolde asked.
She stood in the morning light where it streamed through the trees, arms outstretched, draped in pale yellow robes of a Pacela acolyte. Her hands, forearms and face had been wrapped in bandages, leaving only her eyes visible. Close scrutiny would probably reveal her Hanik heritage but Never hoped that his story of a ‘serious illness’ would deter the gate guards from any such examination.
“Well enough,” Never said as he fastened the bandage on his birch hand.
“What if they don’t buy this?” Elina asked. She stood between Luis and Vantinio, who were each working on wrapping an arm.
“Since we’ll be surrounded by half an army, I think surrender is the best option.”
Vantinio paused. “That’s not much of a plan.”
“Then let’s make this one work,” Never said as he checked on the sprig sewn into his own robe – this had three branches as befitting a senior priest. Lina had been able to find sizes suitable for all, though Luis’ was a little short at the hem, showing his boots. Perhaps a little unusual for a Priest of Pacela, but hopefully not for a group of missionaries returning from the Ramakki Islands. To further complete the illusion, Never had trimmed his beard and had Luis and Vantinio shave their stubble. Once finished, he bundled up the implements ready to return to Lina. Shaving had been her idea too, and a good one at that.
Finally came the stretcher, for which he’d had to rely on Lina for materials once more. Flying them back to the cove had been a feat in itself, the way the poles threw off his balance. But once all was assembled, the illusion was complete.
“There. We’re merely a small group of priests returning sick brethren home,” he said.
“I don’t feel any closer to Pacela,” Vantinio said.
Never grinned. “It’d take more than robes.”
The mercenary chuckled before lifting his stretcher and beckoning for Tsolde to arrange herself on it. Luis and Never took Elina’s and they set off, breaking free of the cover of trees and starting for the road.
Never scrutinised the trail ahead, the weight of the stretcher pulling on his arms, filtering out Tsolde’s grumbling. Her ride would become less bumpy on the road, before which he hoped she’d stop. Still some distance yet, waited Isacina. Beneath scuffed walls and the monstrous, open gate, stretched the Vadiya tents – a dark wave of blue across a muted plain. Smoke rose from various cook-fires and the din of many voices crossed the field. Like a makeshift town.
On the road they travelled more swiftly, eventually joining other travellers, who rarely spoke. One woman, tools swinging from her belt, offered a single coin to Never. “Pacela’s Blessing upon us all,” she said. He did not know how to return the money.
After a merchant train had passed, Elina muttered something in Hanik before switching to Marlosi. “What’s happening? All I can really see is the sky.”
“We’re closing in on the camp,” Never said. “Best to stay quiet.”
The tents rose around them, uniform in their dark blue. Steelhawks and regular soldiers moved between them, meeting in small groups, sitting atop crates to work on their armour or weapons; the hiss of whetstones brought a constant sibilance.
But no-one stopped them, few even glanced their way.
Conversations drifted to him – men arguing over dice, others complaining about being ‘stuck outside in the bloody mud while the Firsts got it better in the city’, and even one man explaining sword techniques to another.
Unlike the walk through Sacha’s camp, the more tents he passed the more the tension fell away. Lina was right; it seemed the Vadiya did not care what Pacela’s Priests did. Of course, the gate would be the true test but something urged him on. A feeling – Pacela watching over him? He sent a wry smile to the dirt road; why not? Such help couldn’t come soon enough.
When the gates finally did appear before him, towering high enough to block the thin sun and cast the guard post in shadow, he shivered. A farmer’s cart was being searched by half a dozen Steelhawks, their striped insignia revealing high ranking officers. They climbed into the wagon and began removing crates of pomegranate, commencing a thorough search – which didn’t bode well for Never’s disguises.
Doubt crept forth.
“Let’s rest a moment,” he said, angling his head to Luis.
Together they lowered Elina to the earth, closer to Tsolde. No-one spoke while they waited and when the Steelhawks finally waved them over, Never nodded before lifting Elina and starting forward, Vantinio beside him. Now for the test of their disguise.
The lead Steelhawk, who bore markings of the Falcon, raised a gauntleted hand, speaking fair Marlosi. “Your business, Priest?”
“We are returning home from a missionary trip to the Ramakki Islands,” Never explained.
“And your fellows?” He gestured to the stretchers.
“A serious illness,” Never replied. “We hope to complete treatment here in Isacina.”
“Illness?” The Falcon grunted. “Find another place, Priest. We don’t need whatever pestilence you bring with you.”
“We would confine ourselves immediately to the Goddess’ Spire, My Lord,” Never added.
The Steelhawk backhanded Never. “Fool.”
The blow split Never’s lip but he didn’t retaliate, save to go to one knee. “Forgive me.”
&nbs
p; A second Steelhawk approached, taking the Falcon aside and speaking softly – too softly to be heard, despite Never’s skill with the Vadiyem language. The second Steelhawk, whose breastplate bore no family markings, released the Falcon once the man gave what appeared to be a grudging nod.
“You will be escorted to the spire and there you will remain, understood?”
Never nodded. “You have our and the Goddess’ thanks.” He motioned to Luis, who took his end of Elina’s stretcher. Another member of the Falcon family assisted Vantinio with Tsolde.
“Be quick about it,” the first man said, a sneer on his lips.
Two Steelhawks led them, but none were the man with no markings on his breastplate. Such a man ought not to have been in a position of power in Vadiya society, given his seeming lack of family. Never resisted the urge to look back; drawing any more attention from that particular Steelhawk would not be wise.
There was always a chance the man was simply displaying a kindness... but it was hard not to see Snow’s hand in every act. And mere moments ago he’d been wondering about Pacela’s hand.
In any event, the fellow would bear watching.
The streets were quiet but not empty. Few people went about their usual business, but Never barely noticed them – for their path took him near Ashina’s giant oaks.
The trees were broken, blackened.
The soft green lawn that once caught the falling leaves was now nothing more than a mess of mud and broken branches. Vadiya soldiers formed a line, carrying away lumber from where several groups of shirtless men worked at hacking into the mighty trunks. How long had they been working on the great trees?
He gripped Elina’s stretcher hard.
Further into the city waited more signs of occupation, stone carvings of the Vadiya God, Sovant with his broadsword, resting on newly constructed platforms. Taverns were announcing that they now sold the dark, mint-flavoured liquor favoured by the Vadiya. A desperate attempt to appease the occupying force? The drink had always been available but it simply wasn’t popular in Marlosa before.
And while the streets were not empty, they were hardly bustling. Those Marlosi citizens moved quickly, a pair of women carrying linen baskets barely looked up to see where they walked. Even the yellow and red stripes on their clothing seemed flat and muted.
