The Magelands Box Set

by Christopher Mitchell

  Daphne and her three battlers stood at the edge of the green patch, watching as the last remnants of the wall of fire scoured the southern bank of the city, having somehow leapt the river while Daphne had been inside the tenement pulling Kylon and Shella from the cistern.

  ‘There it goes,’ her sergeant frowned, the enormous line of fire starting to falter as it reached a huge area of mud beyond the last buildings. The flaming wall lowered and fell, and sputtered out, leaving countless smaller fires burning in its wake.

  ‘An entire city, incinerated,’ muttered one of her other battlers. He took a draw from the stick of keenweed Daphne had passed around, and held it out to her.

  She took it.

  ‘We have two of the Kanawara royal family,’ she said, smoking. ‘One more to look for, then we’re heading back. Kylon!’ she shouted.

  He walked over, the other Kellach following.

  ‘I’m going to the palace,’ she said. ‘I need a guide.’

  ‘I’ll take you,’ he replied, his face twisted with raw emotion. ‘But first, please, if you could use your powers. I need to know if this… all this, was Keira.’

  She nodded. ‘Where?’

  ‘Up on the ridge,’ Kylon said, pointing. ‘The fires were directed from up there.’

  ‘It’s too dark to see much,’ she said, ‘but I’ll try.’

  She sat on the grass, while the others watched. She squinted in the direction of the ridge, which she could barely make out through the smoky night air. She looked for something closer, and saw a tall spire at the northern edge of the city. She zipped her line-vision out to it, and looked up the hill side. There were tiny pinpricks of light up at the top, and a patch of cliffside was visible in the reflected light of a lamp. She concentrated, and fired a line of range-vision to this second point, and scanned around.

  The summit was crowded with Rahain soldiers, who stood staring at the devastation below. Standing a foot taller than anyone else on the ridge, Daphne noticed the fire mage, and gasped. The family resemblance to Killop was strong. It was his sister, Keira.

  She was in chains, standing motionless on the cliff top, her head bowed. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but her face was a mask of rage. In a half-circle around her, dozens of soldiers stood, their crossbows pointed. Behind them, a long cylindrical carriage was waiting. Daphne noticed that Keira’s chains led inside the structure and, at a signal from an officer, soldiers began to pull the chains, heaving Keira towards it. She strained against them but stumbled, and fell to the ground. Soldiers ran to her side, and with a dozen pikes pressed against her, they tied a bag over her head. They leapt back out of her reach, and the other soldiers dragged the fire mage inside the carriage.

  Daphne’s strength gave out, and her vision shot back to her body. She panted and wheezed, closing her eyes. Someone pushed a mug of vile cistern water into her right hand, and she drank, trying not to be sick. She lit a cigarette, and coughed.

  ‘Give her a moment,’ her sergeant said.

  Daphne opened her eyes, and saw Kylon’s nervous, expectant face, as he knelt next to her.

  She nodded. ‘It was Keira.’

  Kylon rose to his feet, clenching his fists, a low roar coming from his throat. He sobbed, his chest shaking, and he put his hands to his face. Leah stood back a pace.

  ‘How was she?’ asked Bedig.

  ‘In chains,’ Daphne said. ‘They took her away in a flying carriage.’

  ‘How could she do this?’ Leah spat.

  ‘They must have forced her,’ Bedig said.

  ‘Fuck off,’ Leah said. ‘Have you ever seen Keira forced to do anything?’

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Bedig said, shaking his head.

  ‘The city was already dying,’ Shella cried out, and they all turned to look at her. ‘She just put it out of its misery.’

  No one said anything.

  ‘It was a mercy killing,’ Shella snorted.

  ‘Shut up, Shella,’ Sami said.

  ‘The Rahain army will be arriving at dawn,’ Daphne said, before Shella could open her mouth. ‘Our transport out of here leaves just before then, from the base of the hill. Kylon will be coming with me to the palace. My soldiers will escort everyone else to the meeting place.’

  ‘I’m coming too,’ said Shella.

  Her guard Jayki stared at her. ‘It’s not safe, miss.’

  ‘Ha!’ she sneered. ‘We’ll have a flow mage, a vision mage, and a grumpy Kell with us. I think we’ll be okay.’

  Daphne nodded to her sergeant. She frowned, but saluted.

  ‘Let’s go!’ the sergeant called out, raising her arms.

  Daphne lit another cigarette and sat, as the others got up and followed the battlers across the square.

  ‘Why are you here?’ Shella snarled once they were alone.

  ‘Don’t you want to be rescued?’ Daphne said.

  ‘Our dreams are poisoned ash and scorched bone. Why are you here?’

  ‘We had word of what was happening. We had to see for ourselves if it was true.’

  ‘Then why the fuck did Rijon leave?’

  ‘They changed their minds,’ Daphne said, smoking. She saw Kylon turn, and crouch down next to them. His face was tear-stained but set firm.

  ‘You ready?’ Daphne asked.

  He nodded, and they got to their feet.

  ‘Let’s go see the queen.’

  Kylon and Shella led Daphne across the square, through the blackened wasteland of the royal gardens, and into the palace. The main structure was a burnt-out shell. The towers and spires had toppled through the shattered roof, leaving enormous fragments of ruined brickwork scattered around. They saw no one living, and descended to the basement level. The smooth, tiled walls were smeared in ash. Shella lit a lamp, and they walked down the silent passageway.

  ‘Last time we were here,’ Shella whispered, ‘she tried to kill us.’

  Daphne kept quiet, not knowing if Shella was joking.

  They came to a stout door at the end of the corridor. Its latch was broken, as if it had been forced recently. Kylon pushed, and it swung open. The interior was well-lit and Shella extinguished her lamp. They walked into a large chamber, its walls shining in blue and white tiles, untouched by the fire.

  Daphne saw a pool in the corner of the room, and next to it a table, at which a woman sat alone.

  ‘Obli!’ Shella cried, and ran towards her, Daphne and Kylon following.

  They raced across the tiled floor, and Daphne saw that the pool was drained and empty.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Shella shouted, reaching the table.

  The woman looked up. Her face was grey and expressionless. She looked exhausted, and sat slumped, her hands under the table.

  ‘I sent them away,’ the queen said.

  Shella sat at the table across from Obli. She said nothing. A tear crawled down her cheek as she stared at her sister.

  ‘Your Highness,’ Daphne said, breaking the silence. ‘We’re here to help you escape.’

  Obli laughed, a harsh cutting noise.

  ‘How is my city?’ she asked Shella, her laugh fading. ‘How has it fared, since you took it from me, sister?’

  Shella’s mouth opened in surprise.

  ‘This is your doing,’ Obli continued, her stare fierce and keen. ‘This day was ordained the moment you murdered their people during the visit of the delegates.’

  ‘No,’ Shella whispered.

  ‘We can argue about this later…’ Daphne began, but stopped when she felt Kylon touch her arm.

  ‘You were always plotting against me,’ Obli went on, her voice rising. ‘Right from the beginning, right from the moment we left. You were always jealous of me, a disloyal, treacherous rat, despite the many times I forgave you and kept you close. Well, you won, sister. You beat me, and you took my city from me. My babies all died, Shella, sister dear. Nine little lives. Poisoned, like the whole city, like the whole migration! The holy migration!’ she shouted at Shella, who fli
nched backwards. ‘We are destroyed, the migration is destroyed, because of you!’

  Obli spat at Shella.

  ‘Enough,’ Daphne said. ‘We’re leaving, your Highness. Are you coming?’

  Obli scowled at her, a venomous expression on her face.

  ‘I’m not cowed by you,’ Daphne said. ‘Are you coming?’

  ‘No,’ Obli said, her face dropping again. ‘I shall die here.’

  ‘Come with us,’ Shella said.

  ‘You’re fleeing with these foreigners?’

  ‘Someone has to bear witness.’

  ‘And you think you’re suitable, sister?’ Obli sneered. ‘Oh, I can just imagine the way you will twist things around, how you will leave out the countless who perished at your hand, and instead paint yourself the hero, the righteous one!’

  ‘I will tell the truth.’

  ‘Now I almost wish I was leaving,’ Obli said, ‘if only to counter the web of lies you will spin. But it’s too late, even if I wanted to.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I have drunk deep, sister,’ Obli smiled. ‘Deep from the waters of death. I’ve seen what happens. In a few hours I’ll be dead.’

  Shella recoiled, her eyes wide.

  ‘There will be torment before the end,’ Obli said. ‘I have also seen that. If this knowledge disturbs you, sister, I’ll allow you to end my life with a wave of your hand if you wish. It matters not to me.’

  Shella broke down weeping, her hands clutching her face. Kylon stepped forward, and lifted her from her seat.

  ‘Farewell Obli, Queen of Akhanawarah,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry for the loss of your children. I’m also sorry that your grief has hidden the truth from you, that nothing would have prevented the Rahain from destroying the migration, just as they destroyed my own land. They are the enemy, not your sister.’

  He pulled Shella towards him, and began to lead her from the room.

  Daphne gazed at the queen, as her eyes followed her weeping sister. For a moment she looked troubled, as if she regretted her words. Then her face hardened.

  ‘Don’t trust her,’ she murmured. ‘She destroys everything she touches.’

  Daphne said nothing, turned, and went out after the others.

  Chapter 32

  Extinguished

  Mountains north of Rahain Capital, Rahain Republic – 4th Day, Last Third Spring 505

  ‘With every step,’ Kallie said, ‘we get further from Kell.’

  ‘You think I don’t know that?’ Bridget called back, struggling to keep the frustration from her voice as they trekked up the long stony slope. The sun was setting behind the mountains to the west, shrouding the hillside in shadow.

  ‘There’s that fucking gaien again,’ Lacey said, as they reached the summit.

  They halted, and looked up at the flying lizard, circling a hundred feet over their heads.

  ‘What I would do for a longbow,’ muttered Kallie.

  Killop was panting, worn out from having been on the move since dawn. After a few slow and tortuous days on the stretcher, he had been back running with the others as soon as he had been able to stand. It had increased their speed, but the constant movement, along with a lack of food, had kept the crossbow injury from completely healing. Most evenings he discovered that it had re-opened, weeping watery pus and blood through his stained tunic. Killop took a swig from his flask, his side throbbing in agony. He refused to let the others see him suffering, not wanting them to think he was slowing them down.

  They had given up trying to hide from the flying beasts. Having left the settled, farmed areas far behind, the land they were traversing was barren and dry, a rocky landscape of broken slate crossed by deep, sudden ravines or blocked by sharp cliffs and ridges. Killop knew that Kallie and Lacey would have left by now and gone off on their own, if the dogged Rahain pursuit hadn’t kept them running every day. The gaien overhead shadowed them continually, directing a company of slave-hunters led by a stone mage to their position.

  ‘I see the bastards,’ Bridget said, pointing into the distance. ‘They’re catching up.’

  ‘We can’t run at night,’ Lacey said, waving her arm at the unforgiving land around them. ‘Not here.’

  ‘We’ll just have to take it slow,’ Bridget said. ‘Come on.’

  She started walking down the other side of the hill. Killop forced himself forward, and they trudged down the track in the fading light.

  As they neared the bottom of the long slope, they saw a dark crevice blocking their path. Bridget put her arm up and they stopped, scanning the route ahead.

  ‘I don’t think we can get across that,’ she said, pointing at the ravine, thirty yards down from them.

  ‘Can we go round?’ Kallie asked, squinting into the gloom. ‘What if we…?’

  ‘Listen!’ Lacey hissed, staring back up the slope.

  There was a quiet sound, a tinkle of rocks from above, and they all turned and looked.

  ‘I can’t see anything,’ Bridget muttered, while the sound grew into a low roar of stones and rocks moving, tumbling, falling.

  ‘Rockslide!’ Kallie shouted. ‘The lizards must be at the top of the hill!’

  ‘Their fucking mage is up there!’ Lacey cried.

  The earth began to shake, the stones beneath their feet sliding and vibrating.

  ‘Run!’ Bridget shouted.

  The hillside bucked as a wave rippled down the slope, and they were flung into the air, each landing onto the rocks, and sliding downhill, caught up in the turbulent flow of stones and boulders. Killop tried to get to his feet, but the whole hillside was moving like a river, spilling its contents into the deep crevice rushing towards them. Powerless to resist the current, he pulled his arms up to protect his head, and closed his eyes.

  He felt the ground disappear, his legs and body hanging in the air as he went over the edge, before he plummeted downwards, surrounded by an avalanche of rubble. Darkness enveloped him as the air rushed past.

  Killop crashed into the deep, cold waters of a fast flowing river, the current hauling him down. He hit the rocky bottom, panicking, his arms flailing, as the falling stones churned up the waters. He re-surfaced, his head above the water, and he gasped for breath in the utter blackness, before he was dragged back under.

  Just as he thought his lungs would burst, the rushing current lifted him again, and he rose back up, away from the rockslide, the speed of the flowing water carrying him swiftly downstream. He caught a last glimpse of the sides of the crevice where he had fallen, and could see rocks still tumbling over the edge, before the river turned him round again, bearing him north into the night.

  Hours later he lay sodden and exhausted on a pebbly bank, deposited by the river, which was flowing just beyond his toes. He had managed to haul himself that far, and had then collapsed. He had vomited up blood and water where he lay, unable to move. Some part of his memory recalled every second of the terrifying trip down the river, but in the darkness he had no idea of how far he had travelled, or where the other three Kellach were. He knew none of them could swim, having no experience of any body of water large enough to need to learn.

  His hearing was dulled by the constant torrent of the river, but he thought he heard a soft noise to his right. He lifted his head from the smooth stones. He could see nothing, but his senses were alert, and he could feel the presence of someone close by.

  There was a cry of pain, and a clatter of stones.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Killop said.

  ‘Killop?’ came the reply. Kallie.

  ‘Aye,’ he groaned. He pushed himself to his knees. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Trying to walk along the side of the river,’ she said, ‘but it’s too dark to see anything. And now I’ve just banged my knee.’

  ‘Any sign of the others?’

  ‘No.’

  Killop rubbed his arms. He was cold and aching all over.

  ‘Cover your eyes,’ he said. ‘I’m going to spark.’

  He held
his hands out from his body, looked away and generated a low, dim burning light between his fingers, using enough power for a few seconds.

  As his eyes adjusted, he saw that they were still at the base of the long ravine, though it was shallower here than before, and the sides of the crevice were set more apart from the river, creating a thin strip of flat pebbly ground on either side. Nestled under the sheer cliffs, squat bushes grew. Just before the light faded, he looked to his other side, where he saw Kallie sitting on a boulder, nursing her leg. She was covered in scratches and bruises, her hair and clothes drenched. She was looking at him, and their eyes met for a moment as the spark went out.

  ‘You hurt?’

  ‘Been worse. You?’

  ‘Same.’

  They sat in silence for a while.

  ‘Stay there,’ he said. ‘I’m going to find those bushes over by the cliff, and make a torch.’

  She didn’t reply, so he started crawling off to his left. In the brief light, the base of the ravine had seemed an easy enough journey to make, but in pitch darkness, it was hard going. After scraping his hands and knees, he reached the thorny bushes, and searched with his fingers for loose, dry branches. He collected several and, narrowing his eyes, shot a spark out at the largest branch, which took up the flames. He held his new torch aloft, and pushed the other branches into his belt.

  Kallie got to her feet, nodded, and they set off, following the river downstream.

  Killop sat brooding on the smooth stones by the shore of a large, still lake, as the dawn’s first rays split the eastern hills to his right. He wondered where Keira was, and if she knew he had escaped. He doubted that the Rahain would tell her, but didn’t know what they would do if she insisted on seeing him again. He missed her. He went through imaginary conversations in his head with her, trying to explain about Daphne and Kallie, and hearing her sharp reproaches back at him. Even in his own mind he could never seem to win an argument with her. His excuses sounded feeble and, no matter how he tried to word it, his infatuation with Daphne came out sounding foolish. A few moments of lustful abandon, and he had destroyed his closest relationship with anyone except his sister.