by Ashley Capes
“Then help me now. Protect Tsolde and help Jardila.”
Luis nodded, despite the conflicting emotions on his face.
“Vantinio?” Never asked. “Would you stay, also? There may be greener fields elsewhere, you know.”
He grinned. “Or no fields, if Snow has his way. That’s not a world I want to see, Never.”
“Thank you.” Finally Elina. “My Lady?”
“Take me as far as you will or not at all, Never. I will walk if I must.”
He sighed. He could not stop her without force. Just as she’d told him before – they were similar; neither willing to turn from their duty. “Very well, do what you think is best.”
Tsolde, her eyes full, ran to Elina and hugged her. They exchanged words in Hanik, Elina stroking Tsolde’s coppery hair, and he recognised a farewell, and then the young woman was hugging him around the middle. “I won’t forgive you if you die, Never. You owe me, just remember that when you’re going to take a stupid chance.”
He swallowed, lifting his arms to take her by the shoulders. “I will.”
Snow’s voice cut into his mind. Now, brother!
Chapter 25.
At first, Elina remained tense – and he couldn’t blame her.
She’d trusted him upon his leap from the Spire and after the way they’d plummeted at first, he must have given her the fright of her life. Once he’d adjusted to the extra weight, angling his wings accordingly and keeping a firm hold on her wrists, his own wrists straining under her iron grip, she seemed to enjoy the flight.
“The air is so cold,” she shouted as they approached the palace. “But it’s still beautiful.”
“Just wait until you experience a landing.”
Dawn was simmering in the eastern sky, the colour of newly-forged steel. Would it be his last? He did not shiver at the thought but a flash of regret followed. To know his true name, to finally know if he was cursed or gifted. To finally have a chance to... a sinking feeling overcame him.
Was there even anything beyond his quest?
“Never!”
The palace loomed ahead. He banked, wind rushing as he turned from the gleaming central dome and toward the parapet nearer its base, a long wall that curved around and stretched back, back to meet the distant mountain range. Not unlike a small road. It would provide Elina access to the passages within the mountain, but from a different position to where Never suspected Snow was waiting.
“I’ll release you when we’re closer,” he said. Distant torchlight was enough to judge the ground, since it was still quite dark. But he managed, beating hard to hover, not unlike a hummingbird, and released Elina. She landed and fell into a crouch before darting to the shadows where the wall met a watchtower. Hopefully it was empty.
Or perhaps Snow had simply asked his men not to bother Never. The same courtesy would not likely extend to Elina.
Never swooped after, landing beside her.
“What now?” she asked, rubbing at her wrists.
Never glanced back to the glow of the central palace dome then to the lawns between them, broken by evenly spaced statues and benches in tiny garden plots. The scent of rain and damp earth was strong but he saw no movement. “Now run along the wall and into that watchtower,” Never said as he pointed. “It should take you eventually to the Folhan Passages; there are two I know of. One is quite small and another is the old Royal Merchant’s way. That is where Jenisan will have struck.”
“I’d always thought the Merchant’s Passage was closed? Caved in centuries past.”
“So did I,” Never said. “But Snow and the Vadiya found a way and Jenisan did the same, it seems. As I understand it, the Vadiya even scaled down the very mountains themselves.”
“I’ll find out soon enough, I suppose,” she said.
Never glanced at her. Her mouth was set in a firm line and her eyes caught light from the still-distant torches. “Do you still want to do this? It’s madness, you know.”
She gripped his arm. “I keep telling you, Never. We share that madness. Do you tell yourself that what you do is madness?”
“I tell myself there is no-one else.”
“And who will help Jenisan from inside the city? You?”
He sighed. “Very well. Can I take you closer?”
“No, this will be fine.” She released him and pulled her quiver into her lap where she began counting arrows, checking fletching by feel only, it seemed.
He stood. “Fare you well, My Lady. May Jyan bring you another spring.”
“Never, wait. I would tell you something, before you go.”
“Yes?”
“Do you remember when you asked me about my tally, in the White Woods?”
“You had twenty-one I think.”
“I did.” She shrugged. “I have not told this story – I did not even tell it all to my parents before they died; they thought him lost.”
“Who?”
“My brother,” she said. “And in a way he was lost – you know that there are those who would abuse things like the honey stick?”
“Like all things.”
“Well, Hendryl used it like any other, at first, mostly on hunts. But he was younger than I and would not listen to any warning. I tried to make him see, Never. It was killing him, changing who he was. His mood turned dark, always. He stole gold from mother and father, from any he could manage – at first to buy more and then to cover gambling losses.” She looked up at him. “Can you see where this is going?”
“I believe I can.”
“He fled into the forests, chased by those he owed money to. Hunted.” She gripped her bow. “When I found them... they’d tied him to a tree. But I saved him. I shot each one, many around their fire. Those who ran I stalked and feathered them too,” she said. “When I freed Hendryl both his eyes and mind had grown blind, he did not know me. In his broken state of fear he lashed out, scarring my arm, and fled, stumbling and crashing through the trees until he fell into the lake.”
Never waited while she took a shuddering breath, shaking her head at herself, it seemed.
“I should not feel it so, not now, after years.”
“Elina –”
“Let me finish,” she said, but she was not angry. “I reached him in time. I could have pulled him ashore but I did not. He called for me as he struggled to keep his head above water, he called for mother and father too. For anyone. His cries were so loud, it was like they were searing the very trees but I stood on dry land and watched until he did not rise again.”
Never could not speak, instead he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“It was not my brother that died there, Never. Hendryl was lost the moment the resin took hold – yet every day I fear I made the wrong decision.”
“You made a choice. Perhaps the merciful one?”
“Perhaps.” She met his eyes. “But I wanted to warn you that no matter what has come between you and Snow, to take the life of kin is not without cost.”
“I fear it, Elina,” he said. “But I will stop him no matter what.”
“I know. Go – maybe we will meet at the passage.”
She did not believe it and Never doubted his gaze offered her any more certainty. He turned and ran across the lawns, moving from statue to statue, then found a garden with a quiet fountain. He leapt onto it and spread his wings, launching himself into the air.
He flew toward the old barracks, those built around the Royal Merchant’s Passage, where it once would have allowed official convoys between Marlosa and Hanik, but which now would have been jammed with soldiers. Torch and lantern light filled the windows and the nearer he drew, the clearer the shouting in Vadiya became.
I need you at the front.
Snow’s voice again.
Never swooped low and landed within the barracks courtyard. Steelhawks and infantry filled the yard, faces grim. The wounded were stretched out on one side and across from them, barrels of crossbow bolts and replacement spears. No-one gave him more th
an a glance as he crossed the yard – it seemed Snow or perhaps Andramir had indeed passed orders to leave Never unaccosted.
Either way, it allowed him to make swift progress through the dim halls and finally to the double doors set in the very mountain, twice as tall as needed for a man on horseback. For now the doors were open but large statues of stone and rusted iron rested nearby, ready to be used as obstructions.
The passage remained as broad and smooth as anything he might have found within the palace itself, even the wagon grooves appeared regular. Just how much in the way of materials had been transported between cities? He hurried on, passing more wounded men. Finally the surface changed – more grit and rubble beneath his boots. Here he also found new support beams and steel frames with thick wire netting – as if it were keeping the mountain from collapsing further.
And perhaps it was.
The Vadiya had taken no half measures in their invasion. How had Jenisan discovered and then reopened the path?
Pale light appeared ahead, turning rows of men into dark outlines. A murmuring filled the passage, but no shouting, no clash of steel. Odd for a battlefront. As he neared the men, eyes slow to adjust, they parted for him after only a glance. Snow had indeed spread word then.
Snow himself stood within an open area, still dressed as Tendov and attended by Andramir. The circular space, not unlike a courtyard, stood open to the slowly lightening sky, high above. Not unlike the ‘air hole’ cut into the silver mines. Yet this was different, there was purposeful stonework here – a low wall ringed a well, where Snow waited.
“What is this?” Never asked as he approached. “A mime of war? Are you planning to collapse the passage?”
“No. I spent far too much effort clearing it to begin with.”
“Then why are you waiting here?”
“This is a Sun Shaft. Its use is long lost but not forgotten. It was to aid Amouni machines that once travelled this passage and I will restore it in time. The Hanik have taken heavy losses and have withdrawn for now – they wait beyond the last blockage, not too distant.”
More Amouni secrets. “And you’re waiting for them to return?”
“No, I have sent a guide to harry them.”
Never frowned. “A guide? How?”
“I will show you, since I require your help for the other,” he said before turning to Andramir. “Check on its progress, will you?”
Andramir bowed and ran into the shadows, no hesitation in his bearing. Why would there be? No arrow or blade would find him. Snow gestured to the low wall. It was no well, but more of a barrier for the tarnished mirror within. Several pieces of quartz lay atop it.
“It is from these that I can alter the guides, but it will take your blood, for it seems I am only permitted to create but one, a most vexing outcome.”
“Create what?” Never asked.
“A quartz soldier.”
Never exhaled slowly. He would have to go along with it; if not, who knew how Snow would retaliate? There was always a chance he’d seek to kill Luis and the others even if Never helped – but for now Never had to become a party to more of his brother’s plans.
He drew the Quisoan blade and nicked his hand, blood welling.
“Good.” Snow raised his voice a little. “Guide, attend to me.”
A figure appeared, rising from the mirror, long white robes and bare shoulders typical, but bearing a blank oval for a head, like another mirror. Master, do you wish the sun?
“No, Guide. I invoke Protection – prevent the army beyond the shaft advancing any further.”
Understood. I require assistance. The figure held out its hand, palm up.
“You shall have it. Wait.” Snow tossed a hunk of quartz to Never. “Cover this in blood and hand it to the guide.”
“That’s all?”
Snow chuckled. “I will arrange the rest; I only need your raw blood to initiate the exchange. I doubt this is how our forebears worked, I am improvising as best I can.”
Never took the quartz and smeared his blood across every facet then handed it to the guide. The bloody quartz seemed as though it would fall through the outstretched palm, but instead the guide seemed to shrink into the quartz and there it stayed, hovering in air.
The rows of men behind did not gasp – perhaps their shock was spent on the first creation of Snow’s quartz soldier. Never glanced at them, noting the lack of family marking on their armour. Men loyal directly to Snow, rather than Tendov?
Snow then moved around the quartz, speaking firmly, words of command it seemed. The language tugged at Never’s awareness – Amouni. While nearly all the words were unfamiliar, he understood one: lefr, the word for Rise.
The quartz shimmered and grew bright, a light blossoming from within. It became so strong that he had to shield his face but when the comparative dullness of daylight returned, a hulking figure of quartz stood in the guide’s place. Its chest was a huge block and a flat, featureless head faced forward as it turned to do Snow’s bidding. Each step scraped on stone as it disappeared into the darkness.
“Shall we watch?” Snow asked. He removed the quartz from the mirror then wiped at the dust. “I will show you what Andramir sees. Look.”
An image resolved on the mirror’s surface. Torchlight illuminated the broad passage, gleaming on the surface of a quartz soldier. An arrow bounced from the surface – Never squinted. Harder to see were Hanik men in forest greens, one man was waving a hand at an archer, the message clear: don’t waste arrows.
Yet the quartz soldier was not attacking, it had arranged itself in such a way as to plug one half of the Royal Passage and its fellow was not far behind. When the second soldier reached the first, they aligned perfectly, sealing the tunnel.
The image faded.
“And there, all is well,” Snow said. “The way is sealed without collapsing the passage and ruining all my previous work.”
Never looked to his brother. “This is more merciful than I expected.”
“I have also sent a large force to scale the mountains in order to trap and slaughter Jenisan and his men. It will take some time but rest assured, Never, my resolve has not wavered.”
Chapter 26.
“What now then? How do we find these Memory Seeds?” Never asked his brother as they started back toward the palace. They crossed the lawns alone, morning light continuing to grow, thinning out the shadows as it did.
“Now I must show you something before we rest; it will be difficult to locate the Seed.”
“Show me what?”
“That which I promised in the temple. Father.”
Never stopped.
Snow carried on several paces before turning back. “Isn’t this what you’ve been seeking?”
“If you are lying once more...”
“No, no lies – this is our heritage, brother. Come.”
Snow led them back into the palace via a modest door. He took a lantern and started along an unadorned passage, the light swinging in his grip and casting restless shadows. The corridor ended in a narrow stairwell. At the bottom they passed through a storeroom and Never was struck by a memory of Harstas, though it was a different room.
Snow walked to the rear wall and slid a stack of empty crates aside, revealing blank stone. Then he produced a small blade, pricked the tip of his finger and touched the wall. A silver glow appeared in the shape of a doorway.
“Have the Amouni been everywhere then?” Never asked.
Snow smiled. “Of course. They were custodians – everywhere they went they improved the lives of people with their knowledge.”
“Yet it ended in bloodshed.”
“Sadly, yes.” Snow stepped through the doorway and Never followed his brother into a long hallway lined with stone doors. Each door bore an Amouni symbol, he saw the three fingers, the coil, the lightning bolt hitting the V, the mountain ridge and others from Snow’s die, but many he did not recognise.
They came to a halt at a door bearing two circles, one off-
set within the other. Again, his brother brushed the stone with a blood-stained finger and a silver light admitted them. Snow lifted the lantern, setting it on a hook, then stepped aside.
An unfinished skeleton of silver and bone had been tied to a chair.
The skull was intact, its eyeless gaze brimming with shadow, but several teeth were missing. It bore one collar bone only, several ribs were absent and an entire arm gleamed with silver. So much of the man was forged of silver that Never hesitated to call it a skeleton. Was Snow attempting to create his own silver man, like the one hidden in Pacela’s Spire?
“Never, meet our father.”
The words did not at first sink in.
Father? How could that be? Was it another trick – this one cruel even for Snow?
Finally, Never glared at his brother. “What is this?”
Snow moved to the skeleton, lifting a silver rib free. “It is my recreation – unfinished. These bones replace those that were missing when I dug him up.” He placed the rib on a nearby bench, which stood covered in shadowy objects.
“The Gates of Ju-Anna,” Never breathed. Just as Peat had told him, on their way to the Amber Isle. “You were there.”
“Yes, I searched the entire Imperial Cemetery. I pieced together the fragments of his life over years of searching, Never. And when I found his resting place there was only these.”
Never drew in a shuddering breath. Had his father truly been dead for... who knew how many years? And why? How? And more importantly, could he even trust Snow’s claims? “How can you know? How can you be certain?”
“I found records, sealed within the Empress’s chambers that spoke of a criminal who had been buried with no marker. A man who had been hunted all through the world – here, Hanik, Vadiya and even Kiymako. In all reports, written in all the languages, bearing all seals, this man was described as a vampire, one who stole the blood of his victims.” Snow paused. “Does not such an affliction sound familiar?”
“It does,” Never admitted with a frown.
“This man killed many in his search – mostly women. I found a reluctance within the reports, to commit his acts to writing. When he was finally captured here, he was drawn and quartered then spread across the cemetery and other places. It seemed the old Empress was advised that spreading his bones would prevent his return... but that if another like him was found, having at least parts of his skeleton on hand would help in destroying any such new creature.”
