Quillblade

by Ben Chandler

  And so they had. Three glorious months followed. The twins were too small and too young to be of much interest to the sorts of buyers who came by the pens every week looking for able field workers or skilled labourers. At night they had to sleep in one of the crowded huts clustered on the lake’s shore, but as long as they didn’t try to get too far away, they were largely ignored by those in charge, which meant they were free to amuse themselves during the day. They could chase Aeris through the grass, or go splashing through the shallows, or push through the reeds that lined the lake. For three whole months Lenis, Missy and Aeris were happy. Together.

  Then a slaver noticed them, and the twins had been tested. Even then their natural skills as Bestia Keepers were obvious, but as individuals they had unusual limits. The empathic and telepathic skills that allowed some people to work with Bestia were believed to be two aspects of a single innate ability that all Bestia Keepers shared, but although Missy could talk to Bestia, she had no idea how to care for them, and though Lenis’s instinctual empathy and ability to sense spiritual energy allowed him to draw out and nurture a Bestia’s powers, he was completely deaf to them. They were sold to the town’s only factory, a small plant that processed iron mined in the local mountains.

  Those were bad days. They had been sold as two individuals, each with different talents, and so they spent most of their days apart. Thankfully Aeris had gone with them. Her bond with Lenis was apparent and since she was a wild Bestia the slavers turned a good profit from her. She was ill suited to factory work, though. They all were, but it was harder on Aeris. The twins’ size meant they could wriggle in amongst the machinery, finding, fixing, cleaning or greasing whatever needed to be found, fixed, cleaned or greased. Aeris’s size was against her; the machines were too heavy for her to power properly. Lenis patiently explained to his new owners that she had an affinity for air, when what they really needed was a Bestia of flame, or even a sturdy earth Bestia. They beat him and put him back inside the machines.

  It took a breakdown and an expensive visit from an expert to convince the factory owners that Lenis was right, though they never admitted it to him. The day the machines were fixed they brought in Ignis, and Lenis taught him how to power the factory machines. Aeris and Missy were put to work running messages between the factory and the mine. Most nights they were all too tired to do much more than eat and sleep, but sometimes they would find the energy to sneak out to the lake to swim, or to the fields to play or just lie amongst the flowers together.

  Then Master Gorman showed up in town. He was a travelling merchant, but his airship wasn’t one of the barges that usually came to Blue Lake for their refined iron. He trafficked in smaller, lighter goods, and the Gull was a slip of a vessel with barely any crew. He stumbled across the twins and their Bestia one night out in the fields, apparently quite by accident. Lenis was never sure why he decided to stop and talk to them, much less buy them and train them to work on his airship. Missy said he’d heard about them from someone in town, but Lenis couldn’t imagine who. He could no longer remember anyone from back in Blue Lake, not even the factory owners who had bought and beaten him.

  But Master Gorman had paid an astonishing price for them, given their age and lack of experience, and the fact that they each had serious flaws in their abilities. He wanted their potential, he’d said as he paid out the asking price – more than two barely talented six-year-old Bestia Keepers were worth, even with two Bestia thrown in. The sale made quite a stir in the town, and Lenis wondered if word of it had ever made it back to his father. He hoped it had, and that his father was tormented by the low price he’d got for selling his children.

  So began Lenis’s career as an airship engineer. Master Gorman proved happy with his purchase, for though they had cost him three months’ wages – as he told them often – they learned fast and performed their duties well. In fact, though alone they had their limitations, together they were better than any other Bestia Keepers Master Gorman had ever seen. He used to say this quite a lot towards the end, after he had decided to sell them on. Lenis suspected this was only to try and boost their price. If that was the case, it worked, and the Clemens twins’ fame began to spread.

  Lying in his bunk, thinking only of his childhood, Lenis was finally able to sleep.

  The hall was vast and mostly empty. Two hawk-like statues stood on either side of the entrance, a long table ran down one wall, and a giant hearth stood at its far end. On the floor in front of the mostly ruined fireplace was a makeshift pile of rags and old feathers in which Lord Raikô slept fitfully, his frame twitching as his mind fought off the contagion spreading through him. Missy could only watch as he suffered. A thin golden cord was attached to the feathered cloak the Totem had given her. The other end of it was clutched in one of Raikô’s talons, keeping her spirit self trapped in the remains of his temple. She felt caught between that golden tether and the constant tug of her own body somewhere far to the south, reaching out for her, trying to reunite her spirit with her flesh.

  As far as Missy had been able to determine they were still in Shinzô, or at least in what had once been Shinzô before the Wastelands had invaded the area. The carvings on the walls were all in Shinzôn, at any rate. She could recognise that much even if she didn’t know what they meant.

  Beyond the gaping doorway to the temple she could see the eerie glowing fog of the Wastelands. They were to the north of Gesshoku, how far she didn’t know, but she was confident she could make it back to her body if only the Totem would let her go.

  That didn’t seem too likely. He said he needed her for something, but he hadn’t told her what that was. He certainly needed someone’s help, but Missy had no idea what she could do. Raikô, Lord of Storms, had been corrupted by the Wastelands. He was turning into a Demon. It all made a sick sort of sense. The corruption of the Wastelands was linked with the corruption of those who dwelt within it.

  It was horrible to witness. The Totem’s body was wracked with some sort of wasting illness, causing him to shed feathers and weight. His skin sagged from his stooping frame, and ugly, seeping red sores covered his flesh.

  Raiko’s talon twitched, pulling the cord that held her tight, and Missy staggered closer to him. She thought it had been involuntary, just another spasm from the depths of his nightmare, but the talon twitched again and Missy was dragged even closer. One great eye, almost as large as Missy was tall, cracked open. Raikô was awake.

  ‘Misericordia Clemens.’ His voice was a low rasp. ‘There isn’t much time. The sickness grows.’

  Missy cowered before the Totem’s presence, her spirit-self dwarfed by the being before her, even sick as he was. If he wished, he could snuff out her existence. She wondered briefly if her body would die, or if it would somehow keep living on without her, a hollow shell.

  Raikô blinked, and even though he wasn’t really a bird, Missy caught in his eye the signs of avian panic, and her pity for him crushed her fear.

  ‘I am becoming a Demon.’

  Missy sighed, or she would have if she had a body to sigh with. These short moments of lucidness were hard won, Raikô clawing them from the madness that clutched at his mind, rotting it away just like it was his body. All too often, the Totem’s addled brain caused him to return to the same topics, repeating things he had said before.

  ‘I know, Lord Raikô, but what can I do to help?’ Again, she pleaded with him. Again he didn’t hear her.

  ‘The sickness grows stronger. It is eating me away.’

  Missy watched Raikô’s growing madness in silence, caught between concern for this once magnificent creature and her own wellbeing.

  ‘Soon, it will take my will. I will be hollow.’

  ‘What?’ This was something new. Hollow? ‘What do you mean?’

  Missy couldn’t tell if he had heard her as his ranting continued. ‘Empty. All empty. All gone.’

  He fell silent. His eye drooped closed again. He wa
s gone again, spiralling back into his wretched slumber. Missy moved closer to him. She reached out an insubstantial hand and laid it against his cheek. She whispered, ‘Lord Raikô.’

  Suddenly the Totem leapt to his feet, sending Missy’s spirit-self flying back from him. He spread his massive wings, brushing the walls with their tips. When he spoke it was no longer a whisper but a booming shout that shook the temple right down to its foundations.

  I AM ADAD! THUNDER BIRD AND LORD OF STORMS! THE LIGHTNING GUARDIAN! HEAR ME, MISERICORDIA CLEMENS! GO FORTH FROM MY TEMPLE! SEEK YOU OUT THE CURE TO THIS SICKNESS THAT DRAINS THE SPIRIT FROM MY FLESH! I WILL NOT BECOME A HOLLOW VESSEL FOR SOMEONE ELSE’S WILL! GO!

  Missy felt the golden cord that kept her bound go slack. She moved away from the immensity of the Totem, suddenly feeling very small and exposed.

  GO! SEEK YOU IN MORTAL MINDS! GO!

  Missy turned and fled.

  No sooner had Lenis reached the deepest levels of sleep than he felt someone shake his shoulder. He came awake reluctantly, half-chasing a dream that taunted him with images of his sister.

  ‘Wake up.’

  Lenis roused himself enough to recognise Namei. ‘What is it?’ He swung his legs over the side of his bunk.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you but the captain said we need to go before the Warlord’s airships come.’

  Lenis yawned and stood, forcing stiff muscles to take his weight. ‘How long have I been sleeping?’

  ‘Only a couple of hours. It’s still dark.’ She glanced at the door. ‘I’ll tell the captain you’re awake.’ Namei looked around again before thrusting something at Lenis’s chest and hurrying out of the engine room. ‘I washed it for you.’

  The bundle proved to be the scarf Lenis had worn into the Wastelands. He stared at it for a time before tucking it into his pocket and moving towards the Bestia hutch. With a small groan he bent down to Aeris.

  He yawned again. ‘Well, my lady, it seems we’re in a hurry.’

  Aeris mewed sleepily in protest. She was still tired even though she’d slept most of the day away. Her complete exhaustion had abated, but she was grumpy about being woken up in the middle of the night. Lenis knew exactly how she felt, but if his captain wanted the Hiryû on its way then they had work to do, regardless of how tired he or Aeris were. A lifetime of slavery had adapted both of them to long hours of work on little sleep.

  Aeris mewed again and Lenis hugged her close. ‘At least you didn’t spend the day fighting Demons and driving through the Wastelands.’ She didn’t really like being squished, but she was purring anyway. Attention was still attention.

  A few moments later Captain Shishi’s voice came through the speech tube asking if Lenis and Aeris were ready. Lenis replied in the affirmative and started the Hiryû’s engines. The familiar surge of motion as the airship manoeuvred away from Gesshoku airdock didn’t knock Lenis off his feet. He tuned the motion of his body with that of the Hiryû and went back to sit on his bunk. For a moment he simply sat and stared across the engine room and then, rousing himself, he rubbed vigorously at his face. If I sit still for much longer I’m going to fall asleep again. He stood and made his way amidships.

  Ducking his way under the mast-shaft, Lenis noticed Tenjin, Kenji and the old cook Hiroshi seated together in the galley. They were drinking from small cups and speaking together quietly. The cadences of their speech were almost as rhythmic as the motion of the vessel. Tenjin’s calm voice wove itself around Kenji’s, and both were punctuated frequently by brash outbursts from Hiroshi. Lenis stood for a moment, entranced by the rocking of the airship, the buoyancy of their words.

  ‘You look like you should be sleeping, boy!’ Hiroshi’s sudden call started Lenis moving again. ‘Almost everyone else is. Just the capt’n, the helmswoman and us three left. I won’t be happy sleeping until Gesshoku’s far behind us, I tell you!’

  ‘I don’t like sleeping while the Bestia are working.’ Lenis kept his voice low. ‘I came for some water.’

  ‘Bah, water’s no good for you.’ The cook stood and moved to a pot on the stove. He ladled a dark brew into a mug and handed it to Lenis. ‘Get that into you, boy. Perk you up, I tell you.’

  Lenis took a tentative sip and grimaced at the bitter taste. ‘What is it?’

  Kenji gave a bark of laughter. ‘You should have asked that before you took a drink.’

  Tenjin grinned good-naturedly, but Lenis looked quickly away, not wanting to deal with Tenjin or how he felt about the old man just now. Not while he was this tired.

  Hiroshi glowered at the navigator. ‘Leave the boy alone.’ He returned to his seat. ‘He’s the makings of a great hero in him, you mind me. He’s got it in his bearing.’

  Kenji sized Lenis up and down and said in a neutral voice, ‘No doubt.’

  ‘What do you say, Lord Tenjin?’ Hiroshi waved his mug at the records keeper. ‘You’d have met your share of ’em in your time.’

  Tenjin sipped at his own brew. ‘Perhaps even more than my share. Why don’t you come and join us, Lenis?’

  Lenis looked back towards the engine room. ‘I really should –’

  ‘Leave them to their work, boy.’ Hiroshi scooped a stool out with his foot. ‘You’re spent and we can all see it. Have a sit and a drink and a bit of a rest. It’ll set you right.’

  Reluctantly Lenis nodded and took the offered stool. He sipped grudgingly from his mug for the sake of appearances, much preferring the warmth that seeped out of it into his hands than the taste. It was not that the galley was particularly cold, but his weariness brought its own discomfort. He tried his best to sit still and seem like he wasn’t avoiding looking at Tenjin.

  Hiroshi took a long gulp from his cup and slammed it on the table. ‘You didn’t answer my question, Lord Tenjin.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Does the boy have it in him?’

  There was a pause. ‘I had thought I had left the days of heroes and adventure long behind me, until I came aboard this airship.’

  Lenis looked awkwardly at the old man. He was smiling, and Lenis could feel the genuine fondness Tenjin felt for him, which just made things worse. This man was responsible for putting Missy in some sort of coma. If it hadn’t been for him, Lord Raikô never would have taken her soul. Of course, if Missy hadn’t summoned the Totem, the Demon Lord probably would have killed them all. Lenis shook his head and tried to find his earlier anger for what Tenjin had done to his sister, but whether it was because he was too tired to feel much of anything, or because Lenis had never been able to stay mad at anyone for long, he couldn’t. It wasn’t there. He hadn’t exactly forgiven Tenjin, but maybe what happened wasn’t really his fault. They had to do something to stop Shamutar, and Tenjin hadn’t known Raikô would do what he did ...

  Kenji chuckled. ‘An answer and no answer at all, Lord Tenjin.’

  ‘The best kind.’ Tenjin saluted the man with his cup and winked at Lenis. Lenis smiled back.

  ‘Retirement.’ Hiroshi almost spat the word. ‘That’s for common nobles and labourers! A true hero never leaves it behind him.’

  ‘Ah, but he must at some point.’ Tenjin rolled his cup around between his hands. ‘He cannot live forever and there must come a time when he steps back and allows younger men and women their chance at playing hero.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Hiroshi countered. ‘Once a hero, so forever, I tell you.’

  ‘Well, I’m older than you are.’ Tenjin smiled benignly.

  ‘What do you think, boy?’ Kenji was smiling as he asked the question, but the stare he fixed Lenis with was intense. ‘Is a hero so until his death? Or should he find a quiet little hole in which to spend his dotage?’

  Lenis tried to match the man’s stare but ended up searching the depths of his cup for an inoffensive answer. He was sure the navigator had meant to make him uncomfortable.

  He be
gan slowly, ‘Well, I guess that depends. Lord Tenjin was a hero when he was younger, but became a records keeper later in life, and Master Hiroshi has been a hero his whole life. However, Lord Tenjin is older than Master Hiroshi, so perhaps Master Hiroshi will retire when he gets older.’ The cook snorted. ‘But then again, Lord Tenjin has come aboard the Hiryû, so I guess he’s come back to being a hero after all.’

  ‘An answer and no answer at all,’ Tenjin noted.

  ‘The best kind.’ Lenis tried to keep his face blank.

  Hiroshi’s bark of laughter rang out through the hushed galley. ‘He’s got what it takes, I tell you!’ He pounded Lenis on the back with a meaty fist and Lenis choked as he tried to swallow another gulp of whatever was in his cup.

  Kenji chuckled along with the others, but there was something about his jollity that seemed forced. Though his body went through the appropriate motions, his actions seemed empty. Lenis realised with a shock what was wrong. Although he could feel the mirth rolling off Hiroshi, and the more subdued waves of Tenjin’s amusement, he felt nothing from the strange man sitting across from him. This was something he was not used to. The people of Shinzô were emotional by nature, and the few Puritans he could clearly remember from his childhood were nothing if not animated. This deliberate and, as far as Lenis could fathom, needless dishonesty sent cold shivers crawling along his spine. It never sat well with him when he met an insincere person, and the thought of having one aboard his own airship was unsettling.

  ‘I think I might go up on deck for some fresh air.’ Lenis stood. ‘Thank you for the drink.’

  ‘I will finish yours, if there is any left,’ Tenjin offered.

  Lenis bowed his head and then made his way to the forward hatch.

  Cold air hit him as he opened the hatch, snatching away the last of his sleepiness. He made his way to the forecastle behind the dragon figurehead and found Namei curled tightly into a ball in the prow. Blinking back the tears that the swift, frigid air ripped from his eyes, he crouched next to her. She didn’t even have a blanket and her skin looked bloodless. As he reached to shake her shoulder he noticed again the dark blotch of ink just under her sleeve. Feeling a little guilty, he pulled back the edge of the cloth for a better look. The tattoo proved to be a line of symbols Lenis recognised as Shinzôn text. Something tickled at the back of his mind, as if he almost knew what the tattooed words meant, but he dismissed it. He didn’t know how to read or write anything in Shinzôn. He pulled back the fabric and shook Namei’s shoulder.