‘Your mother,’ Joss roused himself to say as he and Hero rode past Skyend’s city limits and out into the lavender fields. ‘You’ve not seen her since she was convicted?’
Hero inhaled sharply, held her breath and worked her jaw. She picked a tuft of loose fur from Callie’s coat, tossed it into the wind. And then, finally: ‘I haven’t.’
Joss waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t he risked another question. ‘I thought I remembered, when we were on the Way – you said how much you loved your parents. That they were the only family you had.’
‘I did love them. Until they were exposed for what they truly were. Until they broke my heart.’
‘And you don’t think she might have changed at all? Like she says she has?’
‘Tyrannosaurs don’t fly and pterosaurs don’t cry,’ she replied, dismissing Joss with an old thunderfolk turn of phrase. He could see she was turning something over in her mind. ‘People don’t change, Joss. They only let you down.’
As they rode on, her words began to bubble in his head like a cauldron, spitting up unexpected thoughts, and a realisation dawned on him – one that had long been staring him in the face.
‘Ancestors preserve me … !’ he muttered, reeling.
Hero cast him a curious eye. ‘What?’ she asked.
He shook with anger at himself that he could have been so easily duped yet again. ‘Zadkille,’ was all he said, before spurring Azof into a gallop.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A STUDENT OF THE DARK ARTS
JOSS rode hard for Blade’s Edge Acres, his mind bursting like the gates of an overcrowded stockyard. Hero struggled to keep up. She didn’t attempt to ask him any questions, perhaps sensing it was better to leave him to himself. When they arrived at the fortress, Joss headed straight for the stables and entrusted Azof to the fieldservs. Hero was only just getting in as he stomped outside, his blood boiling.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked as he took off across the field. He didn’t stop to reply, marching straight for the northwest yard where the forge’s chimney was puffing out a thick cloud of smoke. Kicking open the door, Joss found the forge empty save for the spotty-faced youth who’d delivered Zeke his stew so many nights ago.
‘Where is he?’ Joss demanded, and the boy – Garth, as Joss recalled – gawked at him.
‘Who … Zeke? He’s out fixing a busted water pump. Why?’
‘His bunk. Where is it?’
Again, Garth stared at him with dumbfounded confusion. He didn’t need to answer as his eyes gave him away, glancing at a cot set up in the corner of the room. Joss marched over to it with steely determination and began upending the belongings kept there.
‘Uh, I don’t think you can do that.’
‘Watch me,’ Joss replied as he ripped the blanket from the bed, tipped over the trunk, scattered the few possessions from the overhead shelves. But nowhere did he find what he was looking for. Not until he peered under the mattress.
‘You treacherous sonovasauropod!’ he fumed, scooping out a stack of hidden books. Each of them was stamped with the Skyend Public Library insignia.
Joss turned to Garth. ‘Which water pump?’
Zeke had his tools laid out on a blanket in the outer yard by the sabretooth pens. Wrench in hand, he was too immersed in his work to see Joss coming, which made it sorely tempting to chuck one of the big thick hardbacks at his head. Joss settled instead on bellowing at him.
‘Zadkille!’
Zeke looked up, as did the three fieldservs tending to the pens in the distance, just within earshot.
‘Joss?’ he asked, quick to smile and even quicker to frown. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘You’re at it again, aren’t you?’
‘Excuse me?’
Joss brandished the books in his hands. ‘The Magna Grimoire? Rodda’s Index of Esoterica? History of the Occult? All that muck you spouted about wanting to change – it’s all a lie, isn’t it? Thrall gave you a taste of power and now you’re trying to follow in his footsteps!’
‘You think I’m trying to learn black magic?’ Zeke asked, giving the perfect performance of someone as confused as they were wounded.
Joss wouldn’t let it deter him. ‘Learning. Practising. Mastering – take your pick! All I know is that you show up at the same time that someone here starts performing ritual sacrifices. And you expect me to believe that’s a coincidence?’
The fieldservs had stopped what they were doing to stare at them and murmur among themselves. Recoiling from their gaze, Zeke took Joss by the arm and led him behind the stables, up against the rampart wall.
‘Don’t you touch me!’ Joss said, shaking him off.
‘I need you to be quiet,’ Zeke told him, then added plaintively, ‘please.’
‘Why? Scared of being exposed?’
‘Yes,’ Zeke said, stunning Joss into silence. ‘But not for the reason you think.’
‘What do you mean?’
Zeke stole a glance around the corner of the stables, checking to make sure nobody was listening.
‘The ritual sacrifices? I’ve been investigating them ever since I arrived. I’d heard rumours about stolen livestock found mutilated in the surrounding hills. Then, one day when I was on a supply run, I saw it for myself. A sabretooth staked out on a rock, with marks carved into its flesh that no animal could have made. The kind of marks that Thrall had engraved in his mask …’
Joss grimaced at the revelation, unsure of whether to believe it.
‘I’m not too proud to admit that it spooked me,’ Zeke continued. ‘I mean, we never found out what happened to Thrall. Maybe he followed me here. Maybe he was even planning on sacrificing me next …’
It was on the tip of Joss’s tongue to tell Zeke that Thrall was dead. But he swallowed the impulse, deciding instead to see where Zeke’s story went before telling any tales of his own.
‘I thought the best thing to do was to find out what I could about those marks and what they meant, and what the purpose of the sacrifices could be,’ Zeke said, speaking low and fast. ‘I borrowed everything I could find on the subject from the library and I’ve been making my way through it late at night, when everyone else is asleep.’
‘You didn’t think to tell anyone in charge?’ Joss asked with one eyebrow raised. ‘If you were so frightened that it could be Thrall, they might have been able to protect you.’
‘How could I take that risk? We don’t know who Thrall is, or how far his influence reaches. And not long after I started my investigation, Lord Haven was found dead in his chambers.’
‘You think the two are linked?’ asked Joss, thinking back to Hero’s own theories about Lord Haven’s death. Zeke shrugged.
‘Can’t say. I’m not looking to tip my hand before the chips are in. But … well, so long as I’m being honest, there’s something else I should tell you.’ Zeke hesitated, wavering on the edge of what seemed like a big decision.
‘What?’ Joss prompted him.
Zeke pursed his lips. Closed his eyes to make the admission easier. ‘It’s no coincidence that we ran into each other. I knew you’d all be likely to come here at some point in your training. I picked Blade’s Edge Acres to serve at so that I could see you again.’
Joss narrowed his eyes. ‘Why?’
‘Because I meant what I said about wanting to make it up to you. Because betraying you was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. And I’ve done a lot of bad, stupid, selfish stuff. If I could magic it all away, I would.’ Zeke opened his eyes, clear and shining. ‘But I’m no student of the dark arts. All I want is to work my way back into the light. I swear.’
Joss considered Zeke’s words and how passionately he’d spoken them, and found that all his fury had been whittled away, leaving him in a haze of agitated and exhausted confusion.
‘I’m keeping these,’ he said, shaking the books at Zeke. ‘Just so you know.’ And with that, he marched away.
‘But you’ll re
turn them – right?’ Zeke asked, peeking out from behind the stables. ‘Because I could really do without the late fees!’
Joss didn’t slow down, nor acknowledge that he’d heard anything. He simply gripped the books tighter as he threw a dismissive scowl at the fieldservs who were still staring from the distant pens.
‘Joss? … Joss? … Josiah?’ he could hear Zeke calling out to him. He ignored it, and kept walking.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
A GLIMMER OF HOPE
MARCHING back to his chambers, exhaustion settled over Joss like a dense fog. He’d lost track of exactly how long he’d been awake; between the mission to Freecloud, the trip to Skyend and his confrontation with Zeke, it felt as if he’d been up for a leviathan’s age. All he wanted to do was retreat to his bunk and tumble into oblivion, free of the doubts and worries and suspicions that were colliding in his mind.
But that prospect grew cloudy as he heard raised voices from within his shared quarters. The muffled noise grew loud and clear as the door swung open and Edgar emerged, swiftly shutting it behind him as if he were trying to contain a wild beast.
‘Edgar?’ Joss said, and the boy stared at him with frenzied alarm.
‘Oh. Hello, Joss. Just thought I’d get some fresh air. Maybe take care of a couple of chores …’
‘And escape the madness unfolding within?’ Joss replied with a nod at the door.
Edgar paused. ‘Good luck,’ he said, and scarpered off down the hall.
Joss watched him go, braced himself, then pressed on into the den. Drake and Hero were standing at opposite ends of the space, hackles raised as they attacked one another.
‘That’s not what I said!’ Drake was grizzling.
‘It may not be what you said but it’s definitely what you meant,’ she growled in response.
‘And what did you mean, if we’re going to rake through each other’s every word?’
‘I thought that was pretty clear. I can spell it out for you, if you’d like.’
‘Whenever you’re ready.’
‘It’s whether or not you’re ready that’s the question.’
‘Oh, I’m ready. Whatever slop you can ladle, I can take it.’
‘Apparently not, if this reaction is anything to go by.’
‘My reaction? My reaction?’
The bickering continued, whipping around in circles, growing stronger yet never peaking. Joss’s exhaustion left him with little patience. If Drake and Hero couldn’t find a way to settle this for themselves, then maybe they needed someone to break the stalemate for them.
‘Listen! To! Me!’ he shouted. For the first time since he’d entered the room, they both fell quiet and looked at him.
‘I’ve never known two people to care so much about each other and know one another so well and still be unable to find a way onto the same page,’ he said. ‘You both need to take a breath, realise you only want the best for each other, and then start over by talking like you’re friends,’ Joss continued. ‘Which, in case you need reminding, is what you two happen to be.’
His brethren considered his words, considered each other. Visibly softened.
‘Joss is right,’ Drake said, always the first to break the ice. ‘Hero … I never meant to offend you, or make you think I don’t respect you. There’s nobody I respect more.’
Hero stared down at the rug. ‘But that’s what I’m saying,’ she muttered. Then, finding her voice, she continued, ‘You tie yourself up in knots trying not to offend anyone. You give everyone the benefit of the doubt, even when they don’t deserve it. It’s one of the things I love about you …’
The air went out of the room as her words lingered, begging a mass of unasked questions. Knowing that she’d perhaps said too much, Hero hastened to add, ‘And it’s one of the things that infuriates me, too. You shouldn’t feel like you have to bend into whatever shape is expected of you. You should just be you.’
‘That’s easier said than done,’ Drake noted, his voice tripping over his dry throat.
‘I know,’ replied Hero, lifting her gaze. ‘But I can help.’
‘Attacking me isn’t helping me.’
‘True. I’d like to blame my mood on all that’s been happening with Rayner and Lord Haven. But that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.’
‘I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t rush to doubt you so often, especially with everything you’ve been going through,’ Drake said. ‘But you know – kindness isn’t weakness. There may be times I do myself a disservice and get taken advantage of, but I’d rather make those mistakes with an open heart.’
Hero raised an eyebrow. ‘An open heart, huh?’
‘It beats the alternative,’ Drake shrugged, smiling softly.
‘Well – if that’s you two sorted, then I’m off to bed,’ Joss said, edging past them.
He was almost at his chamber door when Hero asked, ‘Did you find Zadkille?’
Joss stopped, and looked over his shoulder. ‘I did.’
‘And did you tear him a new opening?’
‘It’s … more complicated than that.’
Hero grunted. ‘It always is with him.’
‘What’s this about Zadkille?’ asked Drake.
‘I’ll explain later,’ Joss replied. ‘In the meantime, Hero can catch you up with everything that happened at her uncle’s High Chamber.’
Hero frowned at Joss’s indiscretion as Drake whirled around to focus on this new revelation. With the two of them reunited and amply distracted, Joss slipped quietly into his bedchamber. He pulled off his jacket and boots, then tumbled onto his mattress and into a deep slumber. The dreams that followed were barely remembered as he awoke to a knock on the door.
‘Joss? Are you up?’ Edgar called. ‘We’re due in the training yard in ten minutes.’
‘Sur Blaek gave us until Regentsday morning,’ he groaned, pulling the pillow over his head.
‘But it is Regentsday morning,’ Edgar replied.
Joss jumped from his bed as if it had been wired like those new-fangled electrified fences he’d heard about. How could he have slept for so long? Still dressed in his riding leathers, he staggered from his room with his boots unlaced to find Drake and Hero looking equally dishevelled. They ran for the training yard as fast as they could, where Sur Blaek had the look of a man with violence on his mind.
‘You’re late,’ he noted, snapping shut his pocket watch and stuffing it back into his pocket.
‘Sur Blaek, has there been any – have you had any –?’
It was strange to hear Hero being uncertain about something. Joss was used to her words being as precise as a prize-winning archer’s arrows. Still, Sur Blaek took her meaning, or at least enough of it to offer a reply.
‘I’ve spoken with Lord Rayner about the incident in Freecloud, if that’s what you’re trying to ask. He expressed his shock and dismay that we could be attacked in such a way. He’s promised that Kardos and his guards will fully investigate the matter.’
‘But –’
‘But, Prentice Hero? The only buts I know belong at the bottom of a spear. If you have any concerns regarding Freecloud and the events that took place there – as well as any conversations that may have been had – you’ll just have to trust me for now that I’m handling it,’ he said, and then, his tone softening, he asked, ‘understood?’
Hero stood to attention. ‘Yes, sur.’
‘Very good,’ Sur Blaek said, and began a slow march around his students. ‘We’re back on the flight rigs today, though I don’t want you interpreting that as a punishment. You all did good work in Freecloud, both in the air and on the ground. That hasn’t been overlooked or forgotten. But we still need to make sure we have the fundamentals down before we go stretching our wings too wide. I want to see how you all handle yourselves when the elements are really working against you, so I’ve ordered Clockwise to connect the gale generators to the water pumps. We’re having ourselves a tiny typhoon today.’
The prentices traded a
pprehensive glances, but none of them protested. Instead, they saddled up and spent the rest of the day being pummelled with hurricane winds and sprays of icy water. Joss’s flight rig bobbed and dove and tumbled but failed to throw him off, even as Clockwise ratcheted up the settings on the gale generator at Sur Blaek’s command.
When finally they were done and Joss stepped, dripping, from his rig, Sur Blaek called out to him, ‘Good work today, Sarif. Fly like that on the back of your bird and we might just make a paladero of you yet.’
Joss couldn’t help grinning to himself, though his joy was cut short as he spotted a dark and delicate figure watching them from across the yard. Immediately he turned his gaze to Hero, who didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t so much as flinch as her mother approached her.
‘Hello, Henrietta,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking a lot about how we left things yesterday …’
‘Really? Because I haven’t.’
Hero’s mother quivered like something had ruptured inside her. Something deep. ‘I’m … I’m sorry. It was foolish of me to come here at all, let alone unannounced. I just thought – well, I suppose it doesn’t really matter, does it? I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m sorry.’
She turned to leave, and for the first time Hero faltered. She looked at Joss, then at Drake. ‘Remind me what you said about an open heart?’ she asked him.
‘That it beats the alternative,’ he replied.
Hero made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a sigh. ‘I’m going to regret this,’ she muttered, then called out to her mother. ‘Wait!’
Hero’s mother stopped dead in her tracks. She turned around with a glimmer of hope.
‘You’re right,’ Hero told her. ‘Coming here unannounced wasn’t the best choice. It’s been a long day and I’m, well … irritable. But maybe if you call later in the week, then we can arrange another time to visit. And then, if you still want to, we could possibly – possibly – talk then.’
The Edge of the World Page 16
