by Ben Chandler
‘Pure Land.’
‘With your colouring you must have some Heiliglander blood in you.’
Missy had never thought of that before. For most of her life she had been a slave, and no one cared where a slave came from as long as they did what they were told. ‘Do you think?’
Heidi nodded. ‘And you speak without an accent, which will help. It’s your manner that’s the problem.’
‘My manner?’
Heidi nodded. She was still staring at Missy in that disconcerting way that made her feel as if Heidi wasn’t really looking at her. A quick peek into her mind revealed an image of a fierce warrior-maiden in a bloodstained white dress. This must be the great Magni of Heidi’s imagination. She was much taller and older than Missy was. There was no way this was going to work.
‘You lack confidence, Missy. You need to be more assertive.’
Missy hugged herself and tried to rub some warmth into her shoulders. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You keep looking to others for advice or permission. Look at how you’re standing. You’re all hunched over like a child out in the snow.’
‘I am a … I am standing out in the snow!’
‘I keep telling you. Gods don’t feel the cold. You need to stop acting like a little girl pretending to be a god. You’re not very good at it.’
‘Thanks,’ Missy muttered.
‘You need to start acting like a god. You have to start thinking you are a god.’
‘How do I do that?’ Missy demanded. Her shivering had intensified, and she was starting to worry about catching a cold like her brother. She wouldn’t sound very divine with a stuffed-up nose.
Heidi snorted. ‘You have power. I know you do. I’ve seen it. You called down lightning and thunder back in the town square.’
Missy looked at the Quillblade lying by her feet. ‘That wasn’t me. That was Raikō.’
‘I didn’t see any Raikō. I just saw you.’
‘I don’t –’
‘Yes, yes, you don’t know! You’re hopeless, do you know that?’ Heidi turned away and stalked off, her hands clenched into fists by her sides. She spun around and strode back, stopping right in front of Missy. Their faces were only inches apart. ‘Look.’ Heidi’s jaw was clenched tight. Missy could see the veins in her temples throbbing. ‘This isn’t about you. You fly in here on your airship and you chase away Karasu, and I’m grateful for that, all right? But this whole “save the world” quest you and your captain are on isn’t a game. Demons are real. Karasu is real, and I don’t know what he wants from you or you want from him, but he came here, and that means we’re involved. Fronge. Heimat Isle. Heiligland. All of us! Do you think someone can come and destroy one of our towns and we won’t do anything? Did you think you could just fly off and we’d just sit around and wait for you to fix everything? The world doesn’t work that way. So I’m asking … No. I am telling you that you are going to do this. I don’t care how hard it is for you. You will do it.’
Missy forced herself to remain upright, to stare into Heidi’s eyes without taking a step backwards, when what she really wanted to do was run away. She was on the verge of tears. It ached to hold them back, but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t let them go. Her lip quivered and her muscles ached from being held motionless in the frigid air, but Missy stood fast in the face of Heidi’s tirade. She withdrew as far into herself as she could.
Heidi fell silent, clearly waiting for Missy to say something in return, to answer her challenge. Missy tried to speak, but her throat was too tight from trying not to cry. She swallowed painfully and tried again. ‘I’ll try.’ It sounded thin and weak, even to her.
Heidi snorted again. She turned around and walked away, pausing by what remained of the cottage’s front wall long enough to say over her shoulder, ‘Not good enough, little girl.’
As soon as she was gone Missy crouched down on the cold stone and wept. She scrabbled across the ground until her fingers tangled in her overcoat and clutched it around herself, pulling the hood up over her head. Hugging herself, Missy let the tears flow. She was shaking now from more than the cold. It wasn’t fair! Why was Heidi treating her like this? It wasn’t Missy’s fault Karasu had come to Fronge. It wasn’t Missy’s fault everyone had believed she was a god. She had nothing to do with Ishullanu and his Demon war. None of it was her responsibility! She was just a slave girl caught up in Captain Shishi’s wild pursuit of his Way.
Except she wasn’t. Not any more. She hadn’t been a slave for a long time, long enough, she knew deep down, to choose her own Way. As Missy knelt in the cold, burnt-out remains of the cottage, she finally started to understand what the captain meant when he spoke of the Way. A path she chose for herself in spite of what others did around her or to her. A part of Missy knew that Heidi was right. It was time she stopped acting like a slave, waiting for others to decide what was to become of her, seeking their permission or approval. Perhaps Missy hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, but it had happened, and now she had to decide how she was going to deal with it.
Even as Missy reflected on these things her resolve faltered. But how could she? If she couldn’t even stand up to Heidi when the girl knew the truth about her, how was she going to fool an entire nation into thinking she was a god? How was she supposed to stand up to their scepticism and demand they prepare for war? She already felt guilty about fooling Heidi into thinking Karasu was working for Ishullanu to help him stage his Demon war. Could she stand the guilt that fooling an entire nation would bring?
Missy knew she wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t strong, like the captain or Arthur. She wasn’t even as daring as her brother. But what would happen if she failed? Would Ishullanu and his Demon armies overwhelm the whole of Heiligland? And what about the other nations? What about Lahmon, and Ellia, and Kyst, and … it was all too much. If only she hadn’t fought with Lenis, she could share this burden with him, but he was still avoiding her.
Missy was alone. Even when she had been bound to the ailing Lord Raikō, she somehow knew that Lenis was there for her, that he would come for her. Now, for the first time in her life, she doubted that he would. He was repulsed by the connection between them. There was no other word for it. What had always been a constant in their lives, the most cherished part of what made them special, had become something to be shunned.
Missy cried on. She could sense the Quillblade beside her, calling out for her suffering. It fed off her emotions, off her fear and anxiety and even her anger. She felt its hunger and reached down to place a hand on its hilt. The sword thrummed beneath her fingers.
They spent another night in Fronge getting things organised, but it was apparent they could wait no longer to ferry the fifty or so survivors to the island’s capital of Erdasche. There was simply not enough food left to go around. The Hiryū’s stores were all but depleted, and there was nothing left in Fronge, which had the dubious benefit of lightening their load as the townsfolk had nothing but the clothes they were wearing to take with them.
Missy stood in the forecastle, in the outfit Heidi had dressed her in, trying not to fidget as her loose-flowing hair tickled her neck and face. It had been so long since she had worn her hair out of its braid that she’d forgotten how irritating it could be. The urge to push it back behind her ears was constant, so she gripped the railing instead, looking out over the clustered faces filling the deck with what she hoped was a regal and dispassionate air.
I am a god. I am Magni. I am a great warrior.
The thoughts spiralled through her mind but gave little comfort. Missy could feel her knees shaking, and the tears in her eyes weren’t from the bitter wind, though she hoped the people of Fronge believed they were. The Quillblade was pushed through a loop of the ridiculous leather kilt she wore. It was in its feather form, and it took surprising effort to keep from stroking its hilt. Just a touch and it would drain away some of Missy’s nerves, but she was still wary of the shintai’s power.
The deck was overcrowded wi
th people, and most of them were looking at her. There was standing room only, the people of Fronge crammed into any safe available space for the flight to Erdasche. It was difficult to move around on deck and this, Missy told herself, was why she hadn’t seen Lenis since his outburst yesterday. She wasn’t avoiding him, but of course she knew she was. His anger was the result of his frustration, she was sure of it. They were both frustrated. They had both expected Kanu to give them the answers to … what? Everything, Missy presumed. Who the Clemens twins were, who they were supposed to be. Why they were so different from everyone else. Why Ishullanu the Demon King had taken such an interest in them.
The strange boy was standing to Missy’s left. The Heiliglanders seemed to accept his presence as a matter of course. To them he was some monstrous servant she had summoned from the underworld.
‘This is good,’ Kanu said to her suddenly. He was looking out over the crowded refugees and smiling his too-wide grin.
‘What do you mean?’ Missy asked without turning her head.
‘You are Mashu. It is only right that people see you as a god.’ The boy laughed. It had an odd screeching quality to it that shocked the nearest Heiliglanders into pressing against the mass of their fellows in an effort to move further away from him. ‘Although it would be better if they knew you as you are and not as Adad.’
‘You knew Adad?’ Adad was Raikō’s true name.
‘I saw him once, flying over Apsu’s temple. His cry hurt my ears, but I didn’t look away. In his wake he trailed lightning, and the sky greeted him with calls of thunder.’
Missy glanced at Kanu out of the corner of her eye. ‘Well, I’m not a god,’ she whispered as low as she could so he would be the only one to hear, ‘and I don’t like people treating me like one.’
Kanu just laughed again. ‘Given enough time, Mashu, I’m sure you’d come to enjoy it.’
Missy made no reply to that. She didn’t have one. Worse, she thought that maybe he was right, and that made her as uneasy as his presence did. Kanu’s determination to serve the twins was unsettling enough without the knowledge that the sea god had foreseen the twins’ existence countless centuries ago and knew that they would need his help. Last night she had told Tenjin, Arthur, and the captain everything that had happened when she and Lenis had spoken with Kanu, but not even Tenjin had heard of the Titans. Whoever they were they had perished long before humanity had started keeping records, or at least long enough ago that all records about them had either vanished or been destroyed. They were gone nonetheless, just as the god Apsu had predicted, and that left them with more questions than answers.
Lenis had already started the engines. They had been on the cold ground so long that they needed some warming up. While they waited for the Hiryū to launch, the captain had suggested to Missy that she might address the crowd to let them know that everything was going to be all right, that they were going to be safe in Erdasche, and that something would be done about the horrors that had been visited upon them. Magni, goddess of war and wielder of lightning, would avenge them.
A deep chasm had opened up inside Missy’s stomach. Her mouth and throat were dry. As she stood there, gripping the railing in the forecastle and looking down at the countless expectant faces, she felt as though she was going to faint. Her carefully rehearsed speech, which Heidi had prepared for her, was all but forgotten. The townsfolk were beginning to mutter amongst themselves. It was time. She should have started already.
Missy caught Heidi’s eye. The girl was waiting at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the forecastle, her hands in her pockets as she leant against the railing. She might have looked perfectly at ease, but Missy knew how tense she was. Heidi was waiting for Missy to keep her promise.
Missy’s fingers twitched on the railing, and before she was really thinking about it her hand strayed to the hilt of the Quillblade. The result was almost instantaneous. Her nerves died, her fear vanished. The weapon stiffened at her side. A hush fell over the gathered crowd as a low rumble of thunder echoed through the mountains. Missy didn’t think she’d done that.
‘People of Fronge, hear me!’ she called out in perfect Heiliglander. ‘Know that I have heard your prayers. The atrocities you have endured will be avenged!’ A rough cheer rose up from one side of the deck. Missy ignored it. ‘The time of war has come again, and the armies of the homeland must once more gather to meet the threat.’ There was more rumbling from the crowd. She allowed a small tendril of command to enter her voice. ‘We will meet this threat!’ she repeated, and as she did so she compelled them to listen to her. She did it automatically, as she had done in the town square when she had demanded and they had obeyed. Missy felt a slight connection to the minds of those gathered before her. It was tentative, not as powerful as it had been in Fronge where she was able to see what any one person was thinking clearly, but it was encompassing enough to give her a general sense of the crowd’s thoughts. ‘The man who did this to you was an agent of Ishullanu, the Demon King.’ Missy saw it ripple through their collective minds. Of course, they didn’t know who Ishullanu was. And without any effort at all, Missy placed a memory in their minds. It was indistinct, nothing more than a shadowy outline of a great and menacing serpent, but she buried the image deep, and from out of their minds she drew a name they could recognise and hung it on him. ‘The Demon King Idunn is gathering an army of Demons. He struck first here, in Fronge, but soon his army will be large enough to threaten the whole of Heiligland. And we will meet the Demon threat!’ This last part she shouted, and the people of Fronge cheered and Kanu threw back his head and roared, more beast than child.
Just then the Hiryū launched itself into the air. It was only Missy’s long experience on airships that kept her upright. Many of the townsfolk fell against one another as the vessel soared skywards. Missy kept her eye on the eastern horizon and, just as the airship rose high enough to allow the sun to peek over the furthest mountaintop, she drew the Quillblade and held it aloft. The rays of the early morning sun were caught in the golden metal of the shintai. Missy concentrated and a small pinprick of electricity appeared on the Quillblade’s tip. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the people were cheering again, chanting her name over and over.
Except they weren’t chanting Missy.
‘Well done, Mashu,’ Kanu whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.
Below decks, alone with his Bestia in his engine room, Lenis heard the animation from above. So, Missy’s plan was working. As Lenis ran his eye over the pressure valves mounted on the engine block he pressed his lips into a thin line. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. Whatever the reason, whatever her motivations, Missy was manipulating people. It wasn’t right. The Puritans found ways to justify slavery too. Missy should have known better.
Worse, he could feel the Quillblade feeding on Missy’s negative emotions, even amidst the mass gathered on deck. He didn’t know if it was just that he could always sense his sister, that she was always there, or if it was the power of the shintai that drew his attention. Whatever it was, Lenis knew when Missy used the Quillblade, and he feared for her. Was the shintai like a Lilim? Would it eventually drain Missy completely, leaving her an empty husk possessing not even the desire to breathe, to go on living? The thought of where that would leave both of them made Lenis shudder.
He was glad he could remain in the engine room. He didn’t want to go up on deck and see his sister playing god, to witness firsthand the leechlike effect of the Quillblade on her, and of her power on the refugees of Fronge. What you’re really frightened of, a small part of him whispered, is seeing silvery lines running from the Heiliglanders to your sister, just like the ones that connected Butin to his Ostian minions.
‘The people certainly seemed to appreciate your performance,’ Arthur noted as Missy entered the bridge. After her speech the people of Fronge had melted away from her, pushing and shoving in their efforts to make way for her to cross the deck.
Missy smiled at the
first officer and sheathed the Quillblade at her side. Its effects on her ceased as quickly as they had begun, leaving her feeling drained and extremely tired. A vague sense of unease settled over her, and she shook her head to rid herself of it.
Missy took her seat. ‘It’s a start.’
‘You did better than I expected you would,’ Heidi whispered into her ear. Missy jumped. The Heiliglander must have followed her, and she hadn’t even noticed! ‘It will be more difficult in Erdasche. The people there weren’t in Fronge to see what Idunn and his followers are capable of, and Demons have only ever been a distant threat to Heimat Isle.’
Heidi had said ‘Idunn’. Had Missy stripped the name Ishullanu out of her mind in her attempt to reach the others? Missy’s stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. Her nerves returned in force. She had been so caught up in her success with the people of Fronge that she hadn’t even considered how she would handle things in Erdasche. If the weather remained steady they would reach the capital by nightfall. Missy didn’t have long to figure out a plan of action.
‘I think you should let me take the lead in Erdasche,’ Heidi said suddenly. ‘You don’t know what you’re doing, but if you appoint me as your emissary, I can talk to the duke for you.’
‘An emissary?’ Missy asked. ‘Don’t you mean acolyte, or a priestess or something?’
Heidi snorted through her nose. ‘Whatever. You need to do it now, in front of my people, or they will be suspicious.’
Missy hesitated. She turned to the captain and translated Heidi’s newest plan. As she did so, she tried to ignore the Heiliglander’s frown. Here she was again, looking for someone else’s approval, someone else’s permission. Well, the girl could think what she liked. The captain was still in charge on the Hiryū regardless of who or what Missy was or pretended to be.
