‘No one must enter,’ was all she said.
‘Can you sense anything in this place?’ asked Cyrek. ‘Other than whatever you obviously felt in there.’
‘Did you not see it? It was an entrance to the Splintered Kingdom.’
Cyrek’s gold eyes glittered but he shook his head. ‘I was aware of nothing.’
Tika closed her own eyes in order to send her mind in a widening area around them. She opened them again abruptly.
‘Yes, but I can’t tell if it is a weak form of one of the creatures, or being shielded to give me that illusion.’ She pointed at the ceiling. ‘Higher.’
Cyrek frowned. ‘I could open another gateway.’
Tika saw both Gossamer and Sket grimace. ‘We could surely walk there.’
She looked round the group. Only Dog and Cyrek wore the black uniforms of the Dark Realm; Gossamer’s shirt and trousers were grey. Sket, Shea and she herself wore blue. The Bear and Lemos wore different shades of brown. Would they stand out too much? People wore all sorts of different clothes and colours in most of the places Tika had been. No, surely only The Bear’s great height would make them noticeable.
At that moment, three people came from the end of the corridor that The Bear had checked. As soon as they saw the strangers, the three stopped in their tracks. Cyrek’s voice rose in a gentle keening croon and Tika, startled, realised it was a sound Kija often made.
‘What shall we do?’ Cyrek murmured.
The three ahead, all wearing long green gowns, stood, swaying slightly, their eyes open, fastened on Cyrek. Tika extended her senses and found Cyrek had wrapped their minds in a calm stillness. Ah, so simple, yet she didn’t think Kija had ever done such a thing as this.
‘Can we speak to them, without them running away or yelling?’
Cyrek altered the note of his croon and the three walked towards them. He let his song fade again and one of the three blinked as though waking.
‘Who are you?’ she whispered, staring into Cyrek’s gold eyes.
‘We are strangers here,’ Tika replied. ‘Are you a healer?’
The woman nodded, now seeing Tika’s green silvered eyes in growing disbelief.
‘We have come to try to rid this place of the evil which has burst forth here.’
‘We have been told it is an evil sent from the Dark Realm,’ said the woman.
‘No,’ Tika said firmly. ‘It is not from the Dark Realm. Some of the Dark Ones are indeed here in your City, but they seek to destroy the evil. They know it of old, from far back in their history. I come from another land, and I too have seen this evil there.’
She hesitated, glancing at Shea but to her surprise the girl moved to stand between her and Cyrek.
‘I am Shea.’ Her voice was clear and steady.
The woman looked hard at her and Shea’s chin came up.
‘I am the daughter of the unworthy Imperatrix Veranta, and of Cawlin, of the Weasel Clan. My uncle Jemin is in the City to claim the Imperium. But any Dark Lords,’ she indicated Cyrek, ‘are here as Lady Tika has said, to fight an evil such as we never dreamed could exist.’
Tika had listened closely. Who had given Shea such words of authority, and the confidence with which to speak them? Gossamer Tewk caught Tika’s eye. And winked. Tika returned her attention to the healer. She was far older than Tika had first thought: a net of fine wrinkles spread from her eyes across her cheeks. The healer nodded at Cyrek.
‘The Imperatrix’s General, Beslow, questioned us yesterday. He wanted to know if any of us had mage powers beyond our healing talents. Such powers are illegal, so of course we denied any such knowledge.’
Cyrek smiled. ‘But you do know more.’
The healer inclined her head in agreement. ‘We knew of the tutor, Ternik’s, powers. Most of us felt a surge of unknown strength at the time she must have died.’ She fell silent and Tika encouraged her.
‘And after? When her body was brought here?’
The healer shuddered. ‘A malignancy spread throughout the Citadel, but it felt impotent, too weak to cause bad trouble.’
‘That’s what I feel now,’ Tika confirmed. ‘But I wonder if in fact it is far stronger, and only hiding behind a mask of weakness. It is above here now. What rooms are overhead?’
‘Public rooms on the next floor, where ceremonies are held and so on. Above that are lesser government offices. The top floor is where the Inner Council meet, the Imperatrix’s own departments and her private rooms.’
Tika thought. ‘Will you hinder us if we try to reach the top floor?’ she asked.
The healer looked between Tika and Cyrek. ‘Have my friends heard our talk?’
Cyrek nodded. ‘They have.’
‘If you would permit, then I would ask them to repeat what has been said here, to our colleagues. I would accompany you if I may. My powers are strongest in healing obviously, but I am competent in illusion, shielding and defence.’
‘And your feelings towards the Imperatrix?’ Shea interrupted.
The healer met the girl’s eyes squarely. ‘We suspected – hoped – Jemin still lived, and would one day return to lift the yoke of tyranny from Kelshan.’
Shea nodded in satisfaction. Cyrek had already released the other two healers from his spell of binding and they were hurrying away along the corridor.
‘Your name?’ Tika asked, walking beside the healer as they all headed in the same direction.
‘Konya.’
‘And do you know of the Places Between? Or of a Splintered Kingdom?’
The woman stumbled. The face she turned to Tika had paled. ‘Places Between we know of. We also have some knowledge of a Broken World – would that be the same as the place you call the Splintered Kingdom?’
Tika sighed. ‘I suspect so. That’s where this evil has come from as far as I know.’ She gave Konya a rueful smile. ‘I have to admit that I wish I knew a great deal more than I do.’
The Bear moved past, his feet making not a sound on the stone floor.
‘Is he from the Dark Realm?’ Konya murmured.
‘Yes but from the Bear tribe, not quite the same as Lord Cyrek.’
‘And I am his mage, Lemos.’ The rich baritone voice came from Konya’s left.
She looked up at him, seeing the jagged scars across his throat. Her eyes narrowed. Healer that she was, she knew such an injury would have destroyed the voice and severely restricted the breathing. He caught her glance.
‘I have borne this for thirty five years. Lady Tika healed me a few days ago,’ he answered her unspoken question.
‘Such an injury would be beyond my ability to heal.’ Konya regarded Tika thoughtfully. She looked barely older than Shea, who Konya knew to be near thirteen. Slightly taller than the girl, yet her eyes were so strange – what land could she have come from?
But they had reached the end of the corridor. The Bear glanced back and Konya indicated right. This corridor was narrower and less well lit. It ended at a wooden door. Konya sorted through a tangle of keys in a pouch at her belt, muttered in annoyance and shook her head.
‘I’ll have to go and get the key,’ she began.
Tika moved closer to the door, her hand outspread. She didn’t touch the wood, or the lock, but there was a grinding click and the door swung away from her. Sket pushed in front, his hand on his sword hilt. The Bear came close behind. Sket cursed. He stuck his head round the side of the door.
‘No one’s used these stairs in a while. Cobwebs.’
Dog echoed his curse from beside Gossamer. ‘Hate cobwebs. Hate spiders.’
Tika rolled her eyes at Gossamer. The woman happily played about with the most appalling exploding devices and she didn’t like spiders? The Bear leading and Cyrek at the rear, they climbed endless stairs, spitting out bits of cobweb and trying not to cough in the dust they raised from the neglected floor. It was dark, but not pitch black and once their eyes adjusted, they could see enough to keep from stumbling.
They’d climbed fiv
e steep flights when The Bear halted. His filed teeth glinted faintly as he smiled. ‘I think the next stairs are the last.’
They’d passed two doors as they climbed, presumably giving access to the higher floors, so the next door they reached should open onto the floor they wanted. Tika reached for Sket’s left hand and sent her mind seeking, up through the thick stone. Yes. Whatever it was, it was close now. She let her mind drift rather than trying to focus too closely on the source of the evil she sensed.
It seemed diffuse, confusing her as to its exact position. She gave Sket’s hand a squeeze and let go. ‘I might be able to tell more once we’re up there. On the other hand, it may know we are here.’
‘That’s so encouraging,’ said Gossamer, and Shea giggled.
The Bear grunted, but in reprimand or amusement it was impossible to judge. They climbed the last flight of stairs and stood by a door.
‘Wait.’ Tika again extended her senses, this time seeking Prince Jemin’s mind signature. ‘Jemin is some distance away, to our left,’ she whispered.
‘This door opens some paces from the Imperatrix’s private rooms, I think,’ Konya whispered in turn. ‘To the right, there will be two guards outside her doors, and this door will be visible from where they stand.’
Sket and Cyrek unsheathed their swords, The Bear hefted his axe and Dog had one hand inside her pack. Tika caused the door to unlock and open the smallest fraction. The Bear growled in satisfaction. The door opened so that he could see towards the Imperatrix’s rooms. He peered through the narrow space.
‘No one there,’ he sounded wary.
Again Tika sent her mind questing outwards, this time seeking any life sparks. She frowned. ‘There are eight bodies to the right,’ she told them quietly. ‘I have no way of knowing who they are, but this area feels free of that thing now.’
She met Cyrek’s eyes then they both turned to Konya.
‘You will have to tell us if one of the bodies in there is the Imperatrix I’m afraid.’
‘I could do it,’ Shea said.
‘Yes you could, but I would rather you didn’t.’ Tika’s reply was sharp.
Konya squared her shoulders. ‘I’ll go now.’
The Bear growled again. ‘Silly woman. Not on your own. We’re all coming.’
He pushed the door open further and stepped into the corridor.
Chapter Thirty
The Imperatrix stood at her office window. Nothing seemed changed in her view of the City. It was perhaps quieter than usual, but the heavy rain could well account for that. She’d been at her desk soon after dawn and Beslow had arrived to give her his most recent reports. Veranta was persuaded, without much effort, that the monsters reportedly roaming her City were from the Dark Realm. Beslow was convinced this was so and Veranta completely agreed with his assessment. She was waiting for him now. He’d said he would report to her again at midday.
Veranta stared at the leaden clouds hanging low over the whole City, rain rattling against her windows. She felt oddly detached from all of it. Sitting at her desk again, she read the letter she’d drafted earlier. She had the idea during the night – to contact her mother’s clan to see if any worthwhile children might be considered suitable for training here at court. She thought perhaps a dozen, boys and girls, could come here, blood lines linked to her family of course, and she could pick a future heir from among them.
She put the scribbled letter aside when she heard General Beslow’s voice acknowledging the greeting from her guards. Beslow was agitated, that was immediately obvious. The Imperatrix waved him to a chair.
‘Your report is of more interest General?’ she enquired.
Beslow nodded. ‘My lady, Kelshan guards arrived back only a short time ago. They’d been patrolling with the militia. They encountered one of the monstrous beasts somewhere around the Guild Precinct.’
Veranta nodded, already bored. This was virtually the same as his earlier report.
Beslow leaned forward. ‘The creature exploded, my lady. Completely blown apart.’
Veranta frowned. ‘Was that the noise I heard? I thought it was just thunder.’
‘When the thing blew apart, six men were killed as well, and several suffered injuries. A group of men, all in black uniforms, came down another street and told them that the creatures do not come from the Dark Realm.’
Veranta continued to look slightly bored.
‘My lady, no word has been given to guards or militia men that we believe the Dark Realm has sent these beasts. Yet the black uniformed men spoke knowledgeably of this matter. And three of our guards identified the leader as General Whilk. They said several of the other men looked familiar, but they couldn’t recall names.’
‘General Whilk.’ Veranta repeated. ‘I had my suspicions of him long ago.’ She stalked to the window, shoulders hunched, fists clenched at her sides.
‘No my lady, that isn’t what I meant to imply.’ Beslow shook his head. ‘I know Whilk well. He is not a traitor to Kelshan. I would wager my life he is faithful to this land.’
Veranta spun to face him. ‘Faithful to this land you say? I, Veranta, Imperatrix of Kelshan and the Confederacies, I am this land. I do not believe Whilk is faithful to me.’ She spat the words at the startled General.
Beslow paused. He knew she was correct. Whilk would do anything for the Imperium as constructed by the Imperator Jarvos. But this woman had degraded the ideals of the whole constitution laid down by her father and his many advisors. Jarvos had listened to advisors, and to the citizens of Kelshan. He had listened to the wild clans.
Veranta listened to no one, this Beslow knew. He realised, with a jolt of alarm, that she was absolutely correct. Whilk would give his life for Kelshan, but he would not do so for the Imperatrix personally. These thoughts sped through Beslow’s mind while Veranta’s hard brown eyes bored into his. He knew he had been silent too long and hastened to remedy his lapse.
‘If you feel Whilk is not to be trusted, my lady, perhaps we could at least speak with him? He may have valuable information to give us about these abominations in our City.’
‘Huh.’ Veranta sat behind her desk again. ‘You think he would tell us how to defeat his allies?’
Beslow opened his mouth, then closed it. The Imperatrix had made up her mind on the matter: there would be no point arguing with her now. Indeed Beslow was under no illusion that Veranta had much trust in himself. He should have known better than to give her this information; he should have dealt with it alone. He saw the Imperatrix’s mind had moved on.
‘The City seems quiet enough General,’ she said now.
Beslow let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.
‘The people saw many of these beasts, and most are barricaded within their homes. It is fortunate that the rain delayed many who would usually have set up their stalls in the markets. Some rushed out to assist the militias – brave but unwise.’
The General got to his feet. ‘My last information confirmed two hundred and seventeen dead. There are many injured. I do not have the exact numbers. Most have been taken to the nearest hospices.’
Veranta regarded the General, her expression unreadable. ‘And your plans for the defence of the Citadel?’
‘I have had barrels of liquid fire placed at regular intervals all around the watch walk my lady. It will be poured down onto the creatures as they reach the curtain wall and set alight.’
Veranta frowned, remembering the way Ternik’s body had exploded when liquid fire was lit in the dissection room. Perhaps that’s what had destroyed the monster Beslow had described. But the supply of liquid fire was tightly controlled. It was a capital offence to possess it within the City limits. An extremely dilute form was allowed, but that could not cause any great damage.
‘Carry on then General, but remember I must be kept informed at all times.’
‘My lady.’
When the General had gone, Veranta yawned. Her sleep, unusually, had been disturbed last ni
ght. But she could recall no dreams. She had lain for a while, waiting for sleep to reclaim her, when she’d thought of sending for those children. She yawned again and went over to the door to the scribes’ office. No one was there, not one single scribe. Cursing under her breath, she went to the outer door to order a guard to fetch her some tea.
Veranta stared. No guards. Yet she had heard Beslow speak to them only moments ago. She returned to her office and went to her desk. Unlocking the middle drawer, she removed three objects, a bunch of keys and two rings. One was engraved with a leaping fish, the emblem chosen by her father to represent his rise from a fisher family. The other was the great seal he had designed for Kelshan. It bore a stylised pattern of the sun surrounded by stars. Veranta slipped them both into a jacket pocket and stood for a moment, apparently listening. Then she walked to the wall which was covered by the great map and casually ripped it away. Choosing a key from the bunch in her hand, she unlocked the door which had lain hidden behind the map.
The door swung inward. Veranta gave one glance over her shoulder and her eyes seemed fully black, not brown surrounded by white, just black.
But something alerted Tika. She was leaving the Imperatrix’s private rooms, having checked the bodies in there, and she sensed a resurgence of the evil. She stopped abruptly, focusing her mind more fully than she had previously dared. Then she sought Jemin’s mind signature.
‘Down.’ She sent the thought strongly into the Prince’s mind. ‘The evil is going down, fast, directly from this floor.’
She heard raised voices ahead and began to run. The Bear moved in front of her and they saw Daylith leaning against the side of another door, his head bowed. Tika caught his arm.
‘What happened? Are you hurt?’
Daylith’s gold eyes were dulled when he tried to look at her. ‘That evil feeling – it suddenly swamped my mind.’ He waved in to the room behind him. ‘This is the Imperatrix’s office. There’s a door still open. Jemin went straight down. He said he heard you tell him.’
Cyrek stood beside Tika, listening to Daylith. Tika thought she had never seen the Dark Lord’s face so stern. Belatedly she saw that The Bear and Lemos had disappeared. She tried to offer Daylith a healing thought but found his mind heavily guarded against her. She felt time slipping away and swung round to enter the room. Tika scarcely noticed the impersonal bareness of the Imperatrix’s office. She saw only the door gaping open in the stone wall.
Dark Realm: Book 5 Circles of Light series Page 38
