Alondo nodded and stumbled away, buffeted by the fierce winds. I hope he’ll be all right. They had just seen Shann and Boxx swept over the side by an immense wave. There was a chance they would survive if they could stay afloat and near to the ship until it was safe, Lyall told himself. If so, then they would be found and picked up when the Reach broke through into clearer water. If not…well, there would be time enough for hariath-sharana if the rest of them made it out of this alive.
Lyall ran forward, extending the lodestone layer of his cloak, and pushed off the lodestone in the foredeck. The tether connecting him to the iron ring in the deck snaked and then snapped taut as he rose over and above the bowsprit, where Keris was already straining in midair to pull the ship forward, buffeted by the turbulent winds. Immediately, he retracted lodestone and extended bronze, adding his effort to hers.
Keris’ dark hair was plastered to her face by the rain. She looked sideways at him and called out the question he was dreading. “Boxx…the girl?”
Lyall shook his head. The pain on Keris’ face seemed genuine. The two women were travelling very different paths, but at the end, they had stood together side by side and faced down Saccath. And Boxx–the Chandara had a special connection to Keris which no-one understood, least of all Keris herself. Yet the creature had touched her heart in a way that no-one from her own race ever had. She had become its companion and its protector. It would be a loss keenly felt by her. By all of them.
Ahead, Lyall could see gaps of blue in the roiling storm clouds. A shaft of sunlight sliced through the dark like a sword point. The mountainous seas were starting to moderate. The wind was beginning to lose some of its fury. Lyall permitted himself a small rush of elation. They were actually going to make it.
As the storms abated and the brooding clouds began to part, Lyall gradually extended the upper lodestone layer of his cloak and allowed himself to drop lightly to the deck. Alondo was already at the ship’s larboard rail, scanning the water anxiously. Lyall walked over slowly, using the time to compose what he might say to his friend by way of consolation.
When he arrived, however, the musician merely pointed at the section of the hull below them. “Look.”
Seawater overtopped the tear in the ship’s side and poured gradually into the hold. As the water accumulated, the ship would ride lower, so that more and more water would pour in until… “We have to rouse Patris.”
Alondo appeared dubious. “Are you sure we can trust him?”
“I trust that he would want to save his own life and not go down with this ship. He’s a sailor. We need his help and his expertise.”
Alondo nodded. “I’ll keep looking for the others.”
Lyall looked out across the grey sea. Here, close to the Barrier, the waves were spiteful, spitting plumes of spray, threatening to drag down anything that came within their reach. He strained his eyes, looking for a miracle, but there was nothing. He felt his heart sinking beneath the waters–weighed down with the burden of inevitability. Next to him, Alondo continued to scan the rolling swell with dogged concentration. He needs to do this. He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Alondo did not react or interrupt his search. Lyall released his hand and hurried over to where the launch was berthed. Chain shot from the Prophet’s ship had torn a ragged gash in its hull.
Keris was waiting there for him. Her delicate face was grim. “They’re gone, aren’t they?” Lyall nodded once. “It wasn’t your fault, you know,” she continued. Lyall was pulling at the launch’s sailcloth covering. I don’t have time for this. “At least your method worked,” he heard her say. “We seem to have made it through the Barrier. Of course, if Boxx was the key to Annata’s plan to save the Kelanni, then that leaves us with a problem.”
“Yes, well right now we have a more immediate problem,” he snapped. “Our ship is taking on water fast. The Reach needs its master.”
Keris’ mouth hardened. She reached into the bottom of the launch where the thief lay unconscious, and shook him hard. Patris moaned, but did not open his eyes. She shook him again. He moaned again and raised a hand to his head. “”Wh…what happened.”
“Saccath knocked you out,” she said flatly.
“Wh…?”
“He’s gone. Over the side,”
“We need you,” Lyall put in. “The Reach was holed and is shipping water.”
Patris sat up, his hand still cradling his head. “How…?”
“It’s a long story,” Lyall said.
“Show me.” Patris clambered out of the launch and followed the others to the ship’s side. Alondo had moved to starboard, continuing his search. Patris made a brief inspection of the damaged ship’s structure. Then he took a deep breath. “It seems cold.” He left the side rail and headed aft with Lyall and Keris in tow. He stopped at the binnacle, glancing behind at the storm front and then checking the directional lodestone device once more. “This can’t be right…” Suddenly he looked up at Lyall, his eyes aflame. “You did it. You actually took this ship through the Barrier, you crazy son of a–”
“There’s no time for that now,” Lyall barked. “We have to keep afloat somehow.”
“Well, I have news for you,” Patris retorted. “This ship is going down. The hole in the side is across the main bulkhead. Multiple compartments are going to fill up with water.”
“So what do we do?”
The thief looked as if he were going to let fly at Lyall. Then his brow furrowed as the problem took root. He glanced again at the Barrier astern. The billowing black clouds had closed in behind them, but were still lashing their vessel with wind and rain. “If I had my way, I’d take us straight back across, but in this condition we wouldn’t stand a chance.” He looked around at the cluttered deck. “The launch is useless.” He peered at the horizon. “There.”
Lyall and Keris followed his gaze. A thin, ragged line separated sea and sky. Land.
“Can we make it?” Lyall asked.
“I don’t know, but right now we don’t have much of a choice.”
“Maybe we could rig up a sail?” Keris suggested.
Patris shook his head. “No time for that. Can you two get this ship moving like you said before?”
“Yes,” Lyall said.
“Then get going. We are going to need best possible speed. Your friend Alondo will have to help me pump water and shift anything heavy to the forward section.”
“What are you going to do?” Lyall demanded.
Patris returned his look defiantly. “I’m going to run her aground.”
~
The three of them sat, huddled together in the shadow of their once proud vessel, shivering from cold and apprehension. The Reach lay with its prow buried deep in the yielding shore, sand piled up before it like a wake frozen in time. A soft footfall sounded behind them. No-one looked up. A sack landed on the wet sand and Keris dropped beside it, flying cloak still draped about her shoulders.
“Well, that’s the last of it,” she announced to no-one in particular. “There’s nothing else salvageable. The good news is Annata’s machine wasn’t damaged–at least, it doesn’t seem to have sustained any further damage. However, most of the food we had is spoiled, and finding a source of fresh water is going to be a priority.”
No reaction. The men stared ahead of them, not acknowledging her or each other. It felt as if she was talking to three corpses. She soldiered on. “It’s getting cold. I would guess that when the suns set, it’s going to get a whole lot colder. We should build a fire.”
“With what?” It was Patris’ voice, but when she looked, the thief was still staring straight ahead and not at her.
Keris shot a look at the beached ship behind her. The obvious answer was for them to start dismantling the Reach’s hull for firewood. However, the ship had given its “life” to save them. Tearing it apart just felt…wrong. “I’ll find something,” she said.
Lyall seemed to rouse from his stupor. He addressed Patris. “I’m sorry, I didn’t m
ean for you to be involved in this. But there is a reason we had to traverse the Barrier. Something that affects all Kelanni–”
“Save the recruiting speech,” Patris spat, his eyes like steel. “I’m not one of your little band. I agreed to pilot the ship–nothing more. Kidnapping me and dragging me here isn’t going to force me to do your bidding.” The thief got to his feet and marched away across the desolate wet sand.
~
He’ll be back.” Keris’ words sounded unconvincing in her ears.
“What makes you say that?” Lyall inquired.
Keris had backed herself into a corner and now had to come up with a credible answer. She was uncomfortable in this new role she had been thrust into. Maintaining morale was supposed to be his job, not hers. “It’s just his way of punishing you for getting him into this situation. Besides, he’s a survivor. He can take care of himself.”
They had walked off a little way down the beach. Her eyes flicked back at Alondo. The musician was still sitting in the same position near the ship. He had not moved or spoken during the entire exchange with Patris. She lowered her voice. “To be honest, Alondo worries me a great deal more. He doesn’t say anything.”
“It’s Shann,” Lyall’s eyes were downcast. “He’s taking her…loss pretty hard.”
He stumbled over the word “death.” Keris could fully understand. It was all too recent–the pain too great to face. Yet if they were going to survive in this place, they would have to start facing facts–even unpleasant ones. And they would have to start solving problems faster than they picked up new ones.
A little farther up the beach, the sand gave way to coarse shingle. It was covered with patches of a strange white substance. She walked toward it and knelt down on impulse, scooping up some and putting it to her lips.
Lyall stood over her. “What are you doing?”
She held it up for him to inspect. The tiny crystals were melting and pooling in her palm. “Water,” she said, with genuine surprise.
“What manner of place is this?” Lyall’s voice held a note of alarm.
A low thrumming sound. Keris and Lyall spun round but could not identify the source. It seemed to come from all around them. Keris reached behind and grasped her staff, noting with annoyance that Lyall did not have his. The sound suddenly grew in pitch and a silver shape appeared over a low hill to the southeast. It was narrow, with a curved nose and two oblique tail fins. There were distinct bulges on either side. As it lifted up, she saw that the bulges housed what looked like fans.
Keris backed away and saw that Lyall had the sense to follow suit. Over near the wreck, Alondo was on his feet, watching the spectacle. The low suns glinted on its silver flank as it hovered for a few moments more, then the thrumming intensified once more as the strange apparition rose into the air and banked away following the coastline south.
Keris and Lyall stood unmoving on the beach and watched as it faded into the distance. The steady hum gradually died and was replaced by the rhythm of the surf.
“A machine.” Lyall spoke in hushed tones. “A flying machine.”
~
Soon afterwards night fell, and the stars came out.
The three of them stood together, looking up at the sky in disbelief. They were bivouacked farther up the beach, away from their stranded ship, where the smooth sand gave way to hard round pebbles.
“…Where the sky is bright and there are no suns,” Keris and Lyall turned to look at Alondo. “Arval,” he said by way of explanation. “Of course, it could just be co-incidence.”
As they stared up at the pitch blackness, studded with hundreds of tiny blazing lights, something gelid caressed Lyall’s cheek. He stretched out his hand. Snow was beginning to drift downward. Lazily. Silently. The scene was one of ethereal beauty.
He had been putting it off. They were too busy just trying to survive, he told himself. Also, he didn’t want to attempt it while Alondo was within earshot. He didn’t think his friend could handle another disappointment. In truth, he wasn’t sure whether he could handle it himself. He also didn’t enjoy the thought of having to lie, but it seemed the only way of ensuring privacy. “Best take refuge in the shelter. I’m going to check the perimeter.” He strode off without waiting for an objection.
“Don’t stray too far,” Keris called out after him. He glanced back over his shoulder, but she and Alondo were already headed for their makeshift haven–an awning roughly cobbled together from bits of broken wood, rope and sailcloth. Gracing it with the title of “shelter” seemed like comparing a hovel in the slum canton of Lind to one of the grand houses of Chalimar. But Ail-Mazzoth, with its faithful roseate light, lay far beyond the Barrier, and there was no way they could stumble around in the stygian darkness of this world with its unknown dangers. In the morning they would head inland–try to make contact with the people of this world. If indeed they were people. Tonight was about one thing and one thing only. Survival.
The soughing of the surf grew fainter. Lyall’s course was taking him away from the beach. He turned south, so that he was moving parallel to the shoreline. To his right, the Aronak was a sea of ink, wave crests picked out by starlight. He walked until he was certain that he was far enough away from their little encampment. Then he halted, raised his hand to his mouth and spoke into the Ring on his index finger. “Oliah.”
For a long moment the Ring remained stubbornly dark. Then Lyall saw the familiar emerald glow. “Hello? Alondo? Lyall? Is that you?” He realised that he had been holding his breath and exhaled. It worked. The Ring worked across the Barrier. It felt like a lifeline to the world they had left behind–the world of sanity.
“This is Lyall. It’s good to hear your voice.”
“Is Alondo all right?”
“Yes, he’s fine. You can speak to him in just a little while. We made it through the Barrier.”
“You did? What is it like?”
“It’s hard to describe. Strange. Like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Even the sky is peculiar. And it’s cold.” He debated whether to mention Shann and Boxx, but decided against it. He was sure Alondo would bring it up, and she and he could console each other. Lyall was not yet to the point where he needed–or wanted–to talk about it.
“Will you be all right?”
“Absolutely.” He sounded as confident as he could manage. “It seems that there are…people here. We are staying put for tonight. Then we’ll see if we can find out more about them. How are things in Sakara?”
There was a silence. Lyall was beginning to think that the connection had somehow been lost. Then the Ring glowed once more.
Oliah’s voice sounded small and distant. “The city has fallen.”
<><><><><>
Chapter 9
Lyall listened intently to Oliah’s voice, transfixed by the Ring’s intermittent emerald glow. “It happened overnight. The Keltar dropped in out of the sky and took control of the Guildhall. They are holding most of the Guild Heads in ‘protective custody’. Soon afterward, the Prophet’s troops began moving into the city. There are companies of soldiers on every street corner. The Asoli are nowhere to be seen. No-one seems to know why. Some say they are cowering in their homes, too frightened to show themselves; others claim that they have made a secret pact with the authorities in Chalimar.”
It didn’t make sense. It would take a sizeable amount of troops to hold the port city–not to mention the number of Keltar that must be committed to the occupation. Up until now, Chalimar had been content to let the Guilds have a free hand in return for a healthy tariff. Something had changed. But what? A shortage of Kelanni tributes? No, that couldn’t be it. The towns and villages under the Prophet’s heel had more than enough fit young people to replace those who died from heat and exhaustion in the ore camps. What, then? He voiced his concern. “Why would the Prophet make such a move now?”
“Lodestone.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Chalimar authorities appear to have discove
red that the Guilds were illicitly trading in lodestone. That’s the declared reason for the takeover. They claim the Guild Master violated his accord with the Prophet.”
Lyall felt his palms go sweaty despite the cold. He was the one who had formulated the plan to refit their ship with lodestone to enable them to cross the Barrier, and it was he who had prevailed upon Patris to use his contacts in order to obtain the stone. Was it conceivable that his plan had precipitated the invasion of the city? No–it was impossible. There was no way that the Prophet would dispatch that quantity of men and resources over five levia weights of lodestone. There was something here he was not seeing. “What about you, Oliah? Are you safe?”
“For the moment, yes. The Thief Guild has already been outlawed. The edict was purported to be from the Guild Master himself, but no-one believes that–at least, no-one believes he would have signed such an order willingly. However, the Keltar have ordered that all Skippers be arrested and detained.”
“Skippers?”
“It’s the name given to those who oversee the thief gangs. It harkens back to the time when the gangs would regularly take to sea as privateers. Patris is one, if he didn’t already tell you. It’s a good thing he’s not in Sakara right now. Do you know when he’s due to return?”
“Well, the truth of the matter is, we brought him through the Barrier with us.”
“You did what?”
“It wasn’t planned that way. The launch was damaged. Then he was…knocked out. We had no choice but to take him with us.”
“Well, perhaps it’s for the best. However strange it is where you are, I suspect it’s probably safer for him there than it is here right now.”
“I’m sorry. I wish there was something we could do to help.”
The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) Page 42
