Darkfall

by Isobelle Carmody

  ‘I have heard it said Sheanna is fearful dull,’ Tarsin droned on.

  ‘I find it peaceful,’ Ember said softly.

  ‘You have powerful soulweaving tendencies. Did you never think of offering your skills to Darkfall?’

  Ember considered her words carefully before uttering them. ‘It is not a life I would choose.’

  The whole court knew that Tarsin was determined to find a cure for Ember’s illness, for on the same day as her audience in his private chamber he had sent out scrolls to announce a great reward to anyone who could cure her. Potions and remedies of all description had already begun flowing in, and had been sent to Ember in the soulweaver’s apartment. Many of these Alene had pronounced harmless if also useless, but quite a few of the potions and unguents offered were addictive drugs that would steal her wits away, and two contained virulent poisons. Of course, these, like many of the offerings, came anonymously.

  ‘You might have healed yourself if you had become a soulweaver,’ Tarsin said now. ‘Does not a soulweaver draw on the healing power of the sacred Horn?’

  ‘Not all soulweavers can heal,’ Ember said softly, wondering what the sacred Horn was. ‘I have no power of healing and only a little visioning ability.’

  Tarsin’s eyes drifted before they came to rest on her again. ‘You saw a vision of two traitors plotting murder and that was true, yet the soulweavers claim that only they see the truest visions.’

  ‘Soulweavers when they vision recognise truth,’ Ember said, repeating what Alene had told her. ‘I do not.’

  Tarsin thumped at his knee impatiently. ‘Your vision saved my life. That’s truth enough for me. Now I have tasters eating my food exactly as I do so that such a plot would not succeed again.’

  ‘That is wise,’ Ember approved. She willed Tarsin to raise the subject of Bleyd. He was not so far from it, she sensed, and it would seem much less suspicious if he mentioned it first.

  Tarsin scowled. ‘Since I ascended to the throne six tasters have died, and four more were poisoned while I was yet a mermod.’

  Ember wondered who had made the other attempts. Surely not all had been at Coralyn’s instigation.

  Tarsin went on. ‘Once, a mermod chosen by Darkfall Decree was regarded with awe, for all believed that the seers worked for the good of Keltor. Poisonings were uncommon, because it was seen that their choices were wise and untainted by greed since they did not concern themselves with worldly things. Now they dabble in politics and interfere in my domain, claiming that is their province, too. My mother thinks I should cut myself off from them since they have grown so unpopular with the people.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Ember said slowly, resisting the urge to remind him it was partly his fault that the soulweavers had fallen into disfavour. She decided to speak now, before someone approached and broke the moment of intimacy. ‘I have heard the poisoner is to be judged tomorrow.’

  Tarsin’s disintegrating mind drifted, but at last he appeared to take in her words. Then he grinned wolfishly, leaning near. ‘Judged and executed before Kalinda sets.’

  ‘He has confessed, I suppose,’ Ember made herself remark casually.

  Tarsin scowled. ‘He confesses nothing. But he was seen entering my apartment with the bottles he collected from the Nightwhisper. I have yet to determine how much Poverin had a hand in this.’

  ‘No doubt this poisoner’s accomplice can tell you, if the Fomhikan refuses to name his father.’

  Tarsin scowled. ‘The accomplice has not been found.’

  Ember opened her mouth to ask Tarsin if he was not afraid the accomplice would try again, but it occurred to her the Holder was too disturbed mentally to be afraid. But mad or not, Tarsin was proud.

  ‘No confession from the poisoner and no accomplice to name the father, and all proofs circumstantial according to the palace gossip,’ Ember mused. ‘That must concern you, for people will find it troubling.’

  ‘The whole point of being the Holder is that Tarsin needs not care about what troubles people,’ Coralyn said coldly.

  The Iridomi chieftain had come silently to stand beside them. More than ever, Ember was glad of the veil.

  Tarsin grinned nastily. ‘So you would advise me to ignore my subjects’ opinions, mother? I wonder how much you would have regretted my death if Ember had not saved me from swallowing the poison sent to me by one of those subjects about whom I need not trouble myself. And should I hear your advice or care about your opinion, if I am Holder?’

  In that moment it seemed to Ember she had been wrong, that they all had. Tarsin looked exhausted, but he did not look mad. Then he laughed, and his wild cackle made her skin crawl. Suddenly she wished more than anything in the world to get away from the citadel and its insidious currents of evil, hidden under smiles and sweet words, and its faces that concealed everything from madness and despair to murder.

  The show must go on, Ember thought, and forced herself to continue.

  ‘It is not my place to speak of such matters and this Bleyd deserves to die, of course,’ she said earnestly. ‘But I think you should find his accomplice and force them to implicate him absolutely.’

  Coralyn gave her a puzzled look. ‘You believe Bleyd of Fomhika is guilty?’

  ‘Of course,’ Ember lied solemnly.

  ‘Why would Tarsin bother himself about getting a confession from the accomplice?’ Coralyn asked suspiciously. ‘Or do you suggest a delay while we seek this accomplice?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Ember said lightly. ‘I am concerned only that there is no absolute proof of his guilt. It might be said that the Holder acted in cowardly haste to hide the fact that he doesn’t know the identity of the real poisoner. A Holder, surely, must be seen to be all-powerful and all-seeing. It seems to me that Tarsin must show not only that Bleyd is guilty by circumstance, but that his own power is so great he can prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt. That way no one would ever dare try such a thing again. They would be too scared he would find them out.’

  ‘Ridiculous …’ Coralyn said, but her heart was not in her words. She was clearly confused about Ember’s motives.

  ‘You are right …’ Tarsin said slowly, ignoring his mother. He leaned nearer and Ember had the terrifying thought that he would reach out and pull the veil and mask from her.

  ‘Well, I do not see how we can capture this accomplice. You saw hands in your vision and those hands must have belonged to Bleyd of Fomhika,’ Coralyn said, her lashes dropping to conceal the expression in her eyes.

  ‘I … I did not speak of it because I am not a soulweaver, but I … I have dreamed of the poisoning since …’ Ember murmured as though speaking her thoughts aloud. She trailed off as if troubled.

  ‘You have seen something more? What did you see? Who worked with Bleyd?’ Tarsin demanded eagerly.

  There was a flash of alarm in Coralyn’s eyes.

  ‘I saw only a little. Hardly enough to condemn someone …’ Ember said, pretending reluctance.

  She sensed Coralyn’s stillness.

  ‘I will be the judge of that,’ Tarsin snapped. ‘What did you see? I command you to speak.’

  ‘It is only that what I saw was so unclear and Alene has been so kind to me …’ Ember said.

  ‘Alene? What has she to do with this?’ Coralyn cried, excitement kindling in her vivid eyes as she took the bait.

  Ember hung her head. Let them talk you into it, Feyt had said. ‘I think the accomplice was … No, I must not speak against Alene with such a vague dream that it could as easily be false as true. I would need to see the prisoner to clarify the vision. And even then …’

  ‘You saw Alene?’ Tarsin said incredulously. ‘Have you spoken of this dream to her?’

  ‘Of course, but she said that I must be mistaken. Or that someone was pretending to be a soulweaver. I think she was upset with me for she has left the citadel. She was good to me, and she healed my pain … I must have been mistaken.’

  ‘So,’ Coralyn hissed triumphantly. ‘From this v
isionweaver’s lips comes the very thing I feared. No doubt Alene left the citadel because this visionweaver spoke to her of this incriminating vision. I will send some of my legionnaires to bring her back …’

  ‘Silence!’ Tarsin said savagely. He glared at Ember. ‘Did you mark the soulweaver’s face in your vision?’

  ‘I told you. I … I could not see clearly. It may not have been her.’

  ‘If she saw a soulweaver, who can it be but Alene since she is the only …’ Coralyn interrupted.

  ‘Shut up!’ Tarsin screamed, stilling all talk.

  He rose and suddenly Ember was frightened. She had imagined a casual conversation, and a suggestion. Not this towering rage.

  ‘I will do nothing without proof, my dear mother, but if it was Alene who sought to poison me, I will have her rent from limb to limb. That ought to satisfy even your bloodthirsty instincts.’ He looked at Ember and his eyes were cold and utterly sober. ‘You will scry and tell me the identity of the accomplice.’

  ‘I … I told you I couldn’t without seeing Bleyd …’ The fear in Ember’s voice was not feigned.

  ‘You will be taken to him now.’

  ‘I vision most often in the mornings, Holder,’ she stammered. ‘Tomorrow if you have him brought to me …’

  The Holder said through clenched teeth, ‘There will be no delay.’ He waved an arm at Asa. ‘Alert the key-holder of the cliff cells.’

  Ember did not know what to do. There was no time to warn Feyt. None of them had expected Tarsin would act with such dispatch. And she was supposed to have Bleyd brought out of the cells. It was all going wrong!

  32

  And so it was that Lanalor, ruler of the Lastmade,

  carried into the world a seed of Chaos, to bind

  the Firstmade.

  LEGENDSONG OF THE UNYKORN

  ‘My son, the visionweaver is trembling,’ Coralyn said reproachfully. ‘The dungeons are not pleasant, and the Fomhikan is near mad with rage at being caught. If you permit it, I will send my personal guard with her.’

  Tarsin nodded, glaring out to the sea. There was a madness in his eyes and Ember was actually glad of the Iridomi chieftain’s presence. She had imagined Tarsin cared nothing for Alene. They had all imagined that, except the soulweaver.

  ‘I will summon them myself,’ Coralyn offered, rising with swift grace. Long moments passed and Ember feared to move or speak until Coralyn returned with a troop of green-clad Iridomi legionnaires.

  ‘Go with them, my dear,’ Coralyn said. ‘See who tried to poison my son, if you can. Return and say what you have seen. If you can name the poisoner, you may name your dearest wish and I will grant it.’

  An oddly extravagant promise, but Ember, letting herself be ushered away by the legionnaires, was hearing someone else speak of wishing.

  ‘Look, the first star. Make a wish …’

  And the blonde girl from the cliff was beside her, clad in jeans and a loose dark jumper.

  ‘I’m going for a swim …’

  Ember wondered if madness was part of her illness, because she was walking down a stone passage with an escort of towering green legionnaires, but she was also standing on a dark shore watching the blonde girl of her cliff-top vision strip off jeans and jumper and run into the water; to swim with a strong sure stroke out to the moon.

  Again the music from the dream wood rose in her mind.

  The girl began to struggle in the moonlit water and, on the shore, Ember saw that something was wrong. She stepped forward and was again walking through the gardens of the cliff palace with the legionnaires. It was night and they were bringing her to the cells.

  But she was also walking into the sea. She had to help the blonde girl. She began to swim but her dress wrapped around her legs. She was not very strong and, being one-eyed, it was hard to judge the distance between them.

  And then she was gone and Ember was alone in the wide ocean, with the moon pouring its silver light into a path.

  ‘Glynn!’ Ember screamed. Glynna!

  ‘Are you well, visionweaver?’ a legionnaire asked courteously.

  Ember blinked, dazed with the duality of her vision. Dazed with what she had remembered and what it could mean. But there was danger here and she must concentrate. Things were not going the way Feyt had planned, but all was not lost as long as she kept her head.

  ‘I am … I have been ill,’ she explained.

  The legionnaire drew to a halt outside a gatehouse. A red legionnaire saluted smartly and held out keys and a lantern. ‘I will lead you down,’ he said. ‘The steps are wet and treacherous.’

  Inside the gatehouse there were two more red legionnaires and a boy in a blue uniform. One of the trainees, Ember guessed absently. As they stepped into the stairwell, the boy in blue reached out. She half expected his hand to go though her, so insubstantial did she feel. But he merely brushed her arm and again warned that the steps were dangerous.

  ‘There is a railing further down, Lady,’ he told Ember, who nodded and told herself she must get a grip. Things had gone monstrously awry, but she could save the situation. She would examine Bleyd, and feign to see something, then she would pretend to be overwhelmed. They would bring her back to Tarsin and she would say she must see Bleyd outside the cells to vision clearly enough. She would tell him she had no more strength that night, but in the morning …

  Tarsin would have to agree because a vision could not be compelled.

  The green legionnaires had divided, half of them going before her down the stairs, and half following. Their boots rang on the stone, making the few sound like many. There were small alcoves every few steps, with windows showing the sheer drop to the sea far below. Ember began to see why the cells were considered escape-proof.

  The dungeons ran along the cliffs walls below the palace and there was no way out of them except through the windows which fell hundreds of metres to the ocean below, or up through the palace itself. There were no other doors or passages. As they descended, the air grew increasingly damp with sea mist and the steps slippery. Even the soldiers were forced to hold on to the stone walls to steady themselves by the time they reached a level where a black, oily-smelling moss grew over everything.

  At last, the steps ended in a shadowy stone passage. A red-clad legionnaire stationed in the final alcove stepped forward. Behind him, through the window, the blue moon shone and beside it a single bright star.

  ‘Make a wish …’

  ‘This way,’ he said, turning smartly. The green legionnaires followed, Ember in their midst.

  She glanced at the green-clad guard walking behind her and was unnerved to find him staring at her, his black eyes coldly purposeful.

  Her hand strayed to the hem of her veil and plucked at it nervously.

  The cold deepened until her teeth were chattering uncontrollably. She was so preoccupied by discomfort and the grinding pain in her temples, that she bumped into a legionnaire before noticing her entire escort had come to a sudden halt.

  She looked up to ask why they had stopped, and found the legionnaire beside her standing as still as a statue, his eyes glazed and distant. In fact, the entire escort stood around her as if entranced.

  It was bone-achingly cold now and little puffs of cloud came from the guards’ mouths. They were alive and breathing, but what in heaven’s name was the matter with them?

  ‘Lady …’ a disembodied voice came into her mind with a hauntingly familiar echo of pain. ‘I have set these men to slumber so that we may speak. I have woven that almost all of the many paths that lead from this single action will cause your death.’

  ‘Wh … what?’ Ember gasped.

  ‘I do not mean the illness that kills you slowly. I mean a sudden violent end. Therefore I must intervene though there is great danger in it. If the agents of the Chaos spirit learn that I have helped you, it may learn also, and begin to wonder about other long-hidden matters.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Ember said faintly
, shivering with cold. She turned around and peered into the shadows behind her. ‘Where are you? Why are you saying these things to me?’

  ‘I swore an oath and you are part of it. These men in green have instructions to kill you and make it appear that the Fomhikan imprisoned here struck out in a frenzy. He, too, was to be killed in the struggle, along with any red legionnaires who were present. The Iridomi chieftain fears you because she does not know what you will do.’

  ‘What … who are you?’ Ember whispered.

  ‘Questions …’ There was a hint of laughter in the sibilant tones. ‘Even so did Shenavyre question the Firstmade. You know who I am …’

  Of course she did. ‘You are the manbeast who saved me. Ronaall.’

  ‘I am what I am, but that is of no consequence now. You must leave this isle before the morrow dawns, for I have woven that if you remain here longer all paths you tread will lead to your death, even if I save you now.’

  ‘But I can’t leave without helping Bleyd. I promised and he will die tomorrow if I don’t do something …’ she stuttered, still trying to understand how he had hypnotised the guards.

  ‘The keys to the cell you seek are in the pocket of the bearded green legionnaire. Take them and go down this corridor. At the end, you will find in the cell he whom you seek. Bring him out with you and to the stairs. There, help will come to you …’

  Ember looked at the frozen men around her.

  ‘How did you do that to them?’ she whispered, but there was no answer.

  Pushing aside a thousand impossible questions, she swallowed her fear and, reaching gingerly into the pocket of the black-bearded legionnaire, withdrew the keys. Hurrying down the hall she stopped briefly to take a torch from a bracket to light the way. She passed more guards standing and staring blankly before them, but as the manbeast had promised, they did not stir.

  At last she found a single cell, and used the keys to unlock the heavy stone door. It was pitch dark and Ember stepped inside apprehensively, leaving the door ajar. Her eyes adjusted to the minimal light until she could see a shape near one of the dungeon walls.