The Edge of the World

by Steven Lochran

  ‘Now I go and report to Lord Rayner, while you all return to your quarters.’

  ‘You’re not worried Rayner may try to finish the job he hired Midwinter Jack to carry out?’ asked Hero.

  ‘Not at all. He’s too canny to try something like that. Not straight away. The biggest mistake any of us could make is to give away our suspicions. We have to go on as if everything is perfectly normal.’

  ‘So you do suspect him then?’ Hero said with a look at Drake.

  Sur Blaek regarded her with considered calm. ‘I’ve come to no conclusions,’ he said. ‘But it’s clear that further investigation is warranted.’

  ‘We can help,’ Joss said, ignoring Tempest as the unruly pterosaur headbutted his shoulder.

  ‘You already have. For now, though, leave the matter with me. If there is any risk to bear, it should be me alone who bears it.’

  ‘What do we do in the meantime?’ Joss asked, feeding Tempest a freeze-dried mouse in the hopes of calming the beast down, its bloodshot eyes looking particularly irritated after the long ride.

  ‘Like I said … go on as if everything is normal. Practise your stances. Get ready for our next session on Regentsday morning.’

  ‘Regentsday? Not today?’

  ‘I think you’ve all earned a small respite, don’t you?’ Sur Blaek said with a ghost of a smile. ‘So Regentsday morning it is. Bright and early. As always.’

  Sur Blaek strode from the rookery with such brisk nonchalance that for a moment Joss forgot their precarious situation. If he were in Sur Blaek’s boots, he might consider going to the Grandmaster Council – but he doubted they would believe him. After all, the old men of the council would have approved Rayner’s elevation to the lordship. They were hardly going to admit they had been wrong to do so, especially with such little evidence. If Sur Blaek were to survive this threat, he would have to be as cunning as Lord Rayner himself. But then, so would Joss and his brethren. If the plan had been for them to witness Sur Blaek’s downfall, what would Rayner do now that they were instead piecing together his betrayal?

  ‘Come on,’ Drake said, weary. ‘We should go get some rest.’

  Joss and Hero didn’t argue with that. Together, they made the long walk from the rookery to the dormitory wing. Joss expected to find Edgar fast asleep, but instead the young steward was sitting on the only unbroken chair in the den, lacing up his boots.

  ‘You’re back already? I thought you’d be returning tonight at the earliest,’ he said, blinking at their presence.

  ‘It was a faster trip than expected,’ Joss said as casually as he could. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘I was just getting ready to go and tend to Azof and the other mounts.’

  ‘Don’t the fieldservs in the stables take care of that?’

  ‘Not while I have anything to do with it, they don’t,’ Edgar said, tapping his chest with pride. ‘Can I get you anything while I’m out?’ he asked. ‘A bite of food to break your fast? I hear the kitchen’s preparing flapjacks this morning.’

  Joss and his brethren were too unsettled to eat, and politely refused Edgar’s offer. The lad wished them all a good sleep and took his leave.

  He’d been gone only a moment when Hero cleared her throat. ‘There’s no way I’m going to be able to rest right now,’ she said. ‘I’m going to help Edgar with the animals.’

  ‘Wait.’ Drake touched her lightly on the wrist. ‘Shouldn’t we talk?’

  ‘What’s there to talk about?’ Hero asked as she pulled away from him.

  Grimacing, Drake withdrew his hand. ‘Everything that happened, maybe? Make sure we’re all on the same page …’

  ‘I know what page I’m on,’ she told him, stomping out of the room. ‘But sometimes I don’t know if you’re even reading from the same book.’

  The chamber door slammed behind her, leaving Drake with a pained expression.

  ‘Joss –’ he said.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Joss replied. ‘I’ll go.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m pretty wound up myself. I could use the walk.’ He opened the door, then stopped to reassure his Bladebound brother. ‘Don’t worry. She’ll come around.’

  Drake nodded uncertainly, leaving Joss to chase after the others. When they arrived at the stables Azof bounced around in his pen, overjoyed at the company, while Callie greeted Hero with a more reserved sense of dignity.

  ‘Oh! I almost forgot to mention,’ said Edgar as he collected the animals’ feedbags. ‘There was an illumivox call for you, Miss Hero. From your uncle. He was asking to see you as soon as you got in.’

  ‘To see me?’ Hero asked, her face creased with confusion, and Edgar nodded.

  ‘He was very insistent that it be a visit and not a return call. A matter of some urgency, he said.’

  Hero sighed, and ruffled the thick fur around Callie’s neck. ‘No time like the present, I suppose. Edgar, will you help me saddle up Callie?’

  ‘Of course!’ Edgar replied, and ran to fetch everything he would need.

  ‘You want to go now?’ asked Joss.

  Hero shrugged. ‘What else am I going to do? Lie in my bed thinking about all the ills plaguing my life?’

  Joss mulled it over, then turned towards the far end of the stable. ‘Edgar, can you please grab Azof’s saddle while you’re at it?’ he called out. ‘I’ll be joining Miss Hero in her ride.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Hero asked. ‘We could be gone a while. And you haven’t slept.’

  ‘Neither have you. Besides, depending on how long we take, we might be able to stop off at the library. There’s some books I’m trying to track down,’ Joss said, tentatively acknowledging his research for the first time. ‘And who knows if I’ll get another chance to ride out to Skyend anytime soon.’

  Hero smiled, slight but unmistakable. ‘Then let’s go.’

  Sitting high in his saddle, Joss held tight to Azof ’s reins as the raptor bounded through the lavender fields that led to Skyend, chuffing happily with every stride. Despite the circumstances, Joss couldn’t help but grin at his mount’s sunny mood. After all, he was out in the world riding his raptor again, with no wretched birds beating their wings and stirring up ill winds.

  Hero, meanwhile, didn’t look quite as rosy. She was sitting on Callie’s saddle with all the solemnity of someone in a funeral procession. And there was no prize for guessing what was making her feel so down.

  ‘He doesn’t mean it personally, you know,’ Joss said, drawing along beside her. ‘He’s a sceptic. It’s just how he is.’

  ‘He’s a sceptic when it comes to believing his friends,’ Hero muttered. ‘The rest of the time he’s all too happy to fall in line.’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ Joss said.

  ‘Oh no? How much convincing did he need that it was Daheed that we’d discovered?’

  ‘Not that much more than you did,’ Joss replied. ‘But if he’s uncertain about something, it’s not in his character to rush to conclusions. Not because of any lack of trust.’

  Hero stewed on Joss’s words for the rest of the ride to Skyend, until they finally arrived at her uncle’s High Chamber. He was waiting for them outside, watching them approach with his hands clasped together.

  ‘Henrietta,’ he said. ‘I see you once again have your Daheedi friend accompanying you.’

  Joss failed to see the relevance of his being from Daheed, but held his tongue. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene with Hero’s uncle, especially now.

  But Hero wouldn’t let the comment go unchallenged. ‘He’s more than my friend, he’s my Bladebound brother,’ she told her uncle in no uncertain terms. ‘And he goes where I go.’

  Sliding from her saddle, she took Callie by the reins and walked the last few steps towards the High Chamber on foot. The sabretooth kept a keen eye on the High Attendant, fur bristling and lip curled. Hero’s uncle acted as if he didn’t notice, though his tense bearing betrayed him.

  ‘You said there was
something urgent you needed to discuss? In person?’ Hero asked, and her uncle offered a stiff nod.

  ‘I have news that I thought was best delivered face to face,’ he said. Drawing rein beside them, Joss dismounted as delicately as he could, not wanting to draw any further attention to himself.

  ‘And what would that be?’

  ‘Follow me.’

  Avoiding the front steps of the High Chamber, High Attendant Ravenhelm led them around the side of the domed building, passing beneath an old maple tree towards the sacrosanct garden out the back. Every High Chamber had this sheltered and meticulously landscaped space, where the Attendants could stand atop a smooth, flat rock to give sermons and talk with their congregation away from the sacred silence of the chamber itself.

  ‘She arrived the day after you did, as if the Sleeping King himself had written the story of it,’ Hero’s uncle explained as they walked together, his steps merrily buoyant. ‘I knew she was coming – the authorities in Covora had sent a letter telling me that she’d been released and would need somewhere to stay. I was all too happy to take her in, of course, despite whatever my congregation might say on the matter. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption, after all.

  ‘And it seems the years of penance have done her some good. She was telling me just this morning that she plans on studying to take her vows as an Attendant, in service to His Majesty. You should be proud of her, Henrietta. She strikes me as a much-changed woman.’

  ‘Uncle, the way you’re talking –’ Hero was cut short as they came to the garden. A woman was kneeling beside the sermon stone, digging through the soil to plant a rosebush. She was wearing the modest tunic of a High Chamber novice coupled with a wide-brimmed hat, and when she looked up, her grey eyes struck Joss with a haunting familiarity.

  ‘Hello, Henrietta,’ the woman said as she stood, brushing the dirt from her hands. ‘I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again.’

  ‘Mother,’ Hero replied. ‘I wish I could say the same.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  A CURIOUS EYE

  HERO said nothing more. Spinning on her heel, she started walking back the way she had come, leaving her uncle and her mother agape. Joss, struggling to keep up with everything that was happening, lagged behind a moment before rushing to follow her.

  ‘Where are you going?’ her uncle demanded, likewise giving pursuit. Only Hero’s mother remained in place.

  ‘Back home,’ Hero said, stomping past the High Chamber’s dome.

  High Attendant Ravenhelm didn’t relent. ‘But you are home!’

  ‘This was never my home,’ she said, fixing him with a wild stare that forced him back. ‘Come on, Joss. We wouldn’t want it getting out that we’d been associating with a known criminal.’

  They were climbing back onto their mounts by the time Hero’s mother showed her face again. ‘Henrietta! Henrietta, wait!’ she called.

  Hero sat rigidly in her saddle, mouth clamped shut, chin jutting out. But listening.

  Her mother came to a faltering stop at Callie’s paws, unable to meet her daughter’s eye for more than a darting glimpse. ‘I failed you. I know I did. And I’ve had a lot of years to reflect on that and work out how I was going to make it up to you. Why do you think I’m here?’

  ‘Because you have nowhere else to go.’

  Hero’s mother bowed her head. ‘I wanted to start over. Make a life for myself. Simple, honest. Somewhere that I could be near you.’

  ‘What’s the angle?’ Hero asked.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘The angle,’ she restated, keeping the reins tight to stop Callie from pacing. ‘You must be working some kind of angle. It’s all you ever do. You and father. I assume his gaolers didn’t buy his pleas of redemption the way yours did?’

  ‘I can’t say,’ her mother replied. ‘We were imprisoned in separate wings without permission to talk to each other. I haven’t seen or spoken to your father since the day we were both convicted.’

  ‘And what a day that was!’ Hero scoffed. ‘I still remember the headlines. They said you were the ringleaders of the biggest criminal empire outside the eastern syndicates!’

  ‘That was –’

  ‘What? A lie?’

  ‘More of a …’ Hero’s mother began, then searched for a way to finish. ‘… An exaggeration.’ But from the way she recoiled, it was easy to see even she didn’t believe what she was saying. ‘Look, there’s no justifying it. Any of it. I know that. And I’m not trying to. What I’m trying to do is make amends.’

  ‘Best of luck with that,’ Hero spat, and spurred Callie into a canter.

  ‘Henrietta, get back here this instant!’ her uncle shouted, while Joss followed behind her on Azof. ‘Henrietta! You respect your mother! Henrietta! Henrietta!’

  He was still calling her name from the High Chamber’s steps as she and Joss rode out onto the main road. Her mother, however, remained utterly silent. The last image Joss had of her was of a crumpled woman with long dark hair hiding her face like a shawl, her hands stained with dirt.

  They had been riding for nearly ten minutes before Joss felt confident that Hero had cooled off enough to speak.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said just as he was about to ask how she was feeling. ‘We don’t need to make a big tune and jig of it.’

  ‘I thought you might like to talk about it,’ he replied, casting his mind back to the Northern Tundra and the confrontation Drake had been embroiled in with his father. Hero and Joss had both offered him their support then, and it had seemed to help. Not to mention how much Joss had appreciated his brethren’s support during the whole business in Daheed. But this was something different. Despite her stern resolve, Joss knew how deep Hero’s wounds ran. And this was the deepest of them all.

  Maybe it would be easier to reach her if Drake was with them. He seemed to have an innate understanding of how Hero ticked. Not that it had kept him from pushing her too far this time, leaving his grieving friend in an even more fragile state.

  ‘There’s nothing to discuss,’ she said, then straightened before drawing Callie to a stop. ‘Wait. I forgot. You wanted to go to the library, didn’t you?’

  ‘It can wait,’ Joss said, waving off the idea. Now hardly seemed like the time for him to tug his own tail in his meatless quest for answers that may never be found. Not with everything that Hero was going through.

  But Hero wouldn’t be so easily dissuaded. ‘You said it yourself, His Majesty only knows when we might come to town again. Especially now that I’ll be wanting to avoid the High Chamber with every bright beam of my soul,’ she told him as she steered Callie back towards the town. ‘Better now than never.’

  After tying their mount’s reins to the post outside, Joss and Hero entered the Skyend Public Library. Inside, Joss was immediately filled with the same sense of wondrous tranquility that his brethren must have experienced whenever they walked into a High Chamber.

  Of all the libraries he’d been to in the past weeks, this was the one that reminded him most of the library where his mother had worked. The thought struck him with a pang of both joy and sadness, which he did his best to damp down as he proceeded through the stacks.

  The place was empty save for one old librarian stamping books behind the main desk, his round glasses flashing like silver coins.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, peering at the two prentices. ‘May I help you?’

  ‘That depends. I’m looking for some rare texts.’ Joss risked a glance at Hero before he continued. ‘Books about black magic. The librarian at Blade’s Edge Acres said you should have a selection here …’

  ‘Hmm. Give me a moment, if you would,’ said the librarian before he disappeared down the long row of shelves.

  Joss shuffled his feet as he waited, not daring to take another look at Hero to see what she might be thinking.

  ‘Black magic?’ she asked when he still hadn’t offered any explanation. ‘Is there something I should know?’

  Joss
shrugged, staring at the shelves. ‘With everything we’ve been through, from Vaal to Daheed, I thought it would be worth some investigation. Try to see what we’re up against.’

  ‘Especially with the odd symbols that Rowan mentioned,’ Hero said.

  Joss looked over to see her nodding, and smiled with relief. ‘Exactly.’

  The librarian returned with a consolatory expression on his wrinkled face. ‘I’m afraid all the books we have on that subject are out on loan. They’re not due back for another fortnight.’

  Joss frowned, defeated. ‘Oh.’

  ‘What about On Leather Wings by Sur Ichabod Boon? Do you have that?’ asked Hero, and the librarian lit up.

  ‘Many copies!’

  ‘Then my friend would like to borrow one,’ she said. ‘Though he’ll need to be added to the rolls first.’

  ‘Of course. I’ll go fetch your book and then we can get you started on the paperwork.’

  The librarian zipped away again, and now it was Joss’s turn to fix Hero with a questioning look. ‘On Leather Wings?’ he asked.

  ‘One of the best ever memoirs about life as a skyborne paladero, as well as my own personal favourite. I know you’ve been struggling with Sur Blaek’s lessons. If you’ve reached a dead end on your black magic research, this could make for a useful read instead …’

  Joss blushed. Of course he knew that his difficulties with Tempest were obvious, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing to have it pointed out.

  ‘Of course, I have a signed paperback of my own back home,’ she went on to say. ‘It’s pretty beaten up … but there’s still no way I’m going to risk lending it out and not getting it back again.’

  ‘Understood,’ Joss replied, resisting the urge to add a mock salute.

  The membership paperwork was straightforward, and before long the two prentices were leaving the library with Ichabod Boon’s On Leather Wings tucked away in Joss’s saddlebag. It may not have been what he’d come for, but hopefully it would still prove helpful. Though with all the difficulty he was having finding books about black magic, he wondered if he might have had more luck in his mother’s library back in Daheed. If only he’d thought to look. If only it was still standing. If only his mother were here to guide him through the stacks, to advise him on what he needed to know. If only, if only, if only.