Obsidian

by Alan Baxter

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘Go to Ward One, but maybe not as far as Oldtown itself, eh?’

  Edmund stared up at the ceiling, mind in a turmoil. A deep confusion, from nowhere, roiled his thoughts. The strange words rode those currents of perplexity, cajoling him, calling him. He didn’t anticipate sleep coming again any time soon.

  The Autarch growled. ‘Every minute these fuckers are out there, the greater the risk to everything we’ve built. Priests from all over are reporting all sorts of rumours, spreading like wildfire.’

  Katherine lifted her palms. ‘So what do we do? We have every Guard and Priest out there looking. We are very few.’

  The Autarch stood. His chair tipped over, slammed against the ground. ‘I know damn well what our numbers are!’ He strode back and forth across the room. ‘Obsidian is easy to control, regardless how much it grows, only while our influence is unsullied. These people must be found!’ He hammered a fist against the table. ‘This is never supposed to have happened!’ he roared. ‘How is it even possible?’

  ‘I think Parlan is perhaps holding something back from us,’ Salome said in her low, quiet voice.

  The Autarch nodded, turned to stare from the Tower’s high window across the darkly glimmering roofs and streets of his empire. ‘I’m almost certain he is. If there’s a way to breach his magic, he must know what it is. I thought perhaps letting him stew for a while might give him time to consider his options. Now it might be time to make them clear to him.’

  Gunnar tipped his pale, blond head to one side. ‘What do you mean? What are his options?’

  ‘He needs to tell us what he knows or we’ll torture him without ever giving him the benefit of death.’

  Henri sniggered, but the muscular Brit, Gerald, interrupted him with a snort. ‘I think his entire life is a torture without the promise of death already, Autarch. I don’t see the application of pain making any real difference. You catch more flies with honey.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  Gerald shrugged. ‘This situation is unprecedented and, as you say, very dangerous for us. Maybe convince him to cooperate with the promise of certain freedoms. Privileges.’

  The Autarch turned back, planted his palms on the table. ‘What sort of privileges?’

  ‘Maybe offer him a better place to live. If he explains the way the magic was breached and how we might find these intruders, he can have a house above ground and regular meals. He’ll still be kept under guard, of course, he and his magic can’t be trusted. But give him that and maybe he’ll give us a way to get them. At least he might show us a way to make sure it doesn’t happen again in the meantime.’

  The Autarch nodded, turned to Katherine. ‘Do it.’

  ‘Okay.’ She stood, left the chamber with her velvet dress flowing behind her.

  The Autarch watched her leave, enjoying her curves, before turning back to the remaining members of the council. ‘Meanwhile, mobilise the Blessed. Let’s use the same methodology.’

  Archibald drew a hand back over his long hair. ‘The people are always worst at policing themselves. We risk turning even the Blessed against us if they realise there are others among them from somewhere else.’

  ‘I realise that,’ the Autarch said. ‘But use your Blessed in each other’s Wards. Tell the Blessed in Ward Five there are rogue Priests in strange clothing hiding out in Ward Two and so on. Keep everyone confused. They won’t know whether these intruders are actually our Priests or not, but that’s what they’ll look like. More than anything else, at least. We cannot let on that they’re from outside! Tell your Blessed these rogues are spreading lies and strange beliefs among the people. They’ve gone mad and need to be found and brought to us. Promise your Blessed any rewards you think fit to ensure they turn every dwelling upside down, stick their noses into every home, ask probing questions of every friend.’

  ‘The people will quickly realise who the Blessed are among them if they become so blatant,’ Archibald said.

  The Autarch smiled, cruel and thin. ‘So be it. Wherever we hear about the people killing a Blessed we’ll send in some Guard to see what they might be hiding.’

  14

  Alex and Silhouette met with Jarrod, Claude and Rowan at the edge of the uncanny wheat fields near the lowen houses. Alex watched the shades around the crops as his friends approached, saw the oily, strange, arcane life they exuded. There was something so fundamentally wrong with this place. The existence and growth of crops was wrong enough, but what those crops might impart disturbed him more. With it came the thought that he was really quite hungry. Rowan and Claude must be too, and soon they might have to accept some lowen hospitality and eat Obsidian produce. He feared what that might do to them. A part of him envied Sil and Jarrod, knowing they could go for a long time yet before feeding became an issue. But then they may eventually have to feed on the lowen and that might be no different for them than himself feeding on Obsidian food. ‘What did you learn?’ he quietly asked Jarrod as the big man shuffled up to him.

  Jarrod’s scowl was clear in his voice even though his face was shadowed. ‘This is a fucked-up place. We headed that way and could only see farmland for what seemed like miles. It’s really hard to get a handle on how big this city is, but it seems that this side is all crops and vegetables, some livestock. It’s the food bowl for the lowen, that much is certain. But how does any of it survive or grow?’

  Alex shrugged, shook his head. ‘It’s all a product of the strange magic here. Things are being unnaturally supported. The people are alive, but they’re not exactly glowing with health. The Kin here are settling for something weak, no?’ he asked Silhouette. ‘I mean, they have this massive self-contained human farm, but the food is pretty grim.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ Sil said. ‘Perhaps not. The populace looks grey and weak, but I don’t really know what it is about human flesh and bone that sustains us. There are Kin scientists out there who study this stuff, but it’s not my area of expertise. I don’t know if a person has to be really healthy to be a good feed. I’ve …’ She paused, shrugged. ‘I’ve fed on some pretty unhealthy hobos in my time and they tasted great and nourished me well. It’s human lifeforce as much as human flesh and bone that sustains us. We’re birthed from Fey, don’t forget, and everything Fey is imbued with rotten magic that makes little sense in the mortal sciences.’

  ‘Regardless, the Kin rulers have a good thing here,’ Claude said. ‘Completely under their control, no recourse to anyone. Haven’t you noticed how few they are?’

  Alex frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  Claude scowled, his disdain evident. ‘Open your eyes, leader. Their presence is strong. The people are under the yoke of the hierarchy, scared of the Guard and the Priests, concerned about the Blessed. But we’ve not seen many. And you couldn’t have hundreds of Kin feeding here all the time, humans can’t breed fast enough. They would be decimated in no time. There must be relatively few Kin here, feeding judiciously, keeping the population oppressed with fear and harsh penalties. It’s a medieval fiefdom. The serfs could easily rise up against the ruling Kin, surely they have the numbers.’

  ‘And what would they do then?’ Rowan asked.

  Claude spat. ‘Live for themselves, at least. They’ve nowhere to go, but they could rule themselves and not live in fear of these brutal games and being ratted out by the Blessed, disappeared by the Priesthood.’

  Alex looked around the small group. Perhaps he could use that concept at some point. ‘I’ve learned quite a lot myself, and it’s not good news. We were right, in that we got played. Big time. The magic that opened the way here was mine. The Fey manipulated Armour, me and those other mages to force me to open the way here to get their influence in. If they have their way, Fey power in the mortal realm will be stronger than ever. It will be devastating for the world.’

  ‘To get their influence in?’ Jarrod asked.

  ‘Ridesprites, remember? The thing that was coaxing Rowan to lead us
into this mess?’

  Jarrod cursed. ‘Of course. I’d forgotten about that. We lost it right after we arrived.’

  ‘We need to find it. In fact, there are a few things we need to find. We’re going to have to split up.’

  ‘And go where?’ Claude demanded. ‘Don’t think you can lose me here.’

  ‘Try thinking about someone other than your fucking self for once.’ Alex held up a hand, ticking items off on his fingers. ‘We need to find the people who started the magic that led us here. They’re in the Tower. I have an ability to avoid being seen, so I plan to go in there.’ He held up his other hand to silence any protestations. ‘Meanwhile, Jarrod and Sil will go to Oldtown, that’s the original town from which all this grew. There are two things there, according to Parlan, the prisoner. One is a pathway through which only Kin can pass. Pure human or pure Fey blood can’t get through. It’s how the ruling Kin here travel between Obsidian and home. It’s a way out, but only for Sil and Jarrod.’

  ‘I’m not leaving you here!’ Silhouette said, aghast.

  ‘I thought you’d probably say that. But that’s why you both go to Oldtown. Sil, you need to track down the Fey anchor stone and tell me where it is. Jarrod, you need to find a way through this pathway and report back to Armour. We need people on the other side to know what’s going on.’

  ‘And then what?’ Jarrod asked.

  Alex laughed ruefully. ‘I have no idea. But perhaps, if this pathway is connected to a single place in the mortal realm, and you can figure out how to use it, you can maybe think of something. Mark wherever you emerge and see what you can learn about a lost town called Averleekan.’

  ‘And we’re left to track down what might have happened to this ridesprite that left Rowan, I suppose?’ Claude asked.

  Alex nodded, turned to face Hood’s son. ‘I said before how sorry I am that you got roped into all this, and I really am. But you’re here now, and I need your help. Is there anything you can do to find it?’

  Claude scowled a moment longer, then sighed. ‘Actually, there is. I’ve been thinking about it. I hadn’t forgotten the thing even if you had. Finding stuff is what I do, it’s kinda my specialty. I can trace arcane echoes. If that thing left any kind of stain on him,’ he jabbed a finger at Rowan, ‘then I should be able to run it down.’

  Alex smiled, a sense of hope rising for the first time since they had arrived. ‘That’s good to know. If we can find out what the ridesprite is after, where it went, we might get a better idea of the plans the Fey had in forcing us all here.’

  ‘But I’m going to need a safe space and plenty of time,’ Claude said. ‘This magic is not fast.’

  A bell rang across the city, doleful and echoing.

  ‘What the hell is that?’ Silhouette asked.

  Claude tipped his head to listen, but no further tolls sounded. ‘I guess they need some way to tell time here. No day or night, no noon or dawn or twilight.’

  ‘I guess they mark time periods in some way.’ The sound sent a rill of urgency through Alex. ‘Let’s get back to Duncan and Lily. They can put you two up in a safe place, tell Sil and Jarrod how to get to Oldtown and I can sneak into the Tower of the Autarch and see if I can break out those fools who led us here.’

  Edmund slipped from the bed, careful not to disturb Sal who had not woken with the bell. Sleep would not come back to him and the niggling presence in his mind was disturbing. It wasn’t unusual for him to dream very lucidly, to feel things with greater clarity than others. If he was honest, Sal was right about some of the local people. They did look up to him, considered him some kind of leader. One neighbour always referred to him as the people’s priest, whatever that meant. But this was the first time something really seemed to set him apart. There was a change in his mind, a sensation, a feeling. He cursed under his breath, frustrated, unable to articulate even to himself what was going on.

  Regardless, the thing that really came through more clearly than anything else was the desire to go to Ward One. He pulled on clothes and snuck from the house. Several of his neighbours were out, keeping different sleep patterns to himself and Sal. He nodded, smiled, kept moving, reluctant to be held up in conversation. It would take a long time to walk to Ward One; Oldtown was on the other side of Obsidian. He set a pace and put one foot in front of the other, determined to discover the source of his discomforts.

  In the back of his mind, an irritating presence seemed to chuckle with satisfaction.

  15

  Alex saw Lily and Duncan as they turned the corner into Ward Five. Traders manned stalls at the intersection, bartering goods noisily as Alex and his friends shuffled past. They made their way slowly forward and Alex sensed something wrong. Silhouette elbowed him and he nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘They look concerned,’ Claude whispered.

  ‘You three keep going. Make your way slowly to the end of the street,’ Alex said. ‘Silhouette and I will hang back, try to talk to them.’

  ‘The Austere don’t talk to anyone, remember.’

  ‘I know.’

  Jarrod, Claude and Rowan walked on, backs bent, heads bowed. They moved past Lily and Duncan without a glance. Alex and Sil stayed on the opposite side of the street from the nervous resistance members and sat in a doorway, as if resting. From the shadow of his hood, Alex watched. Lily glanced his way, gestured briefly, index and middle fingers like walking. Her other index finger pointed away.

  ‘Come on,’ Alex said.

  He and Silhouette stood, moved on. They reached the next intersection and turned right, Jarrod, Claude and Rowan followed a few metres behind. Alex’s nerves were strung taut as guitar strings. His gaze roamed ahead and beside, looking with suspicion at every lowen crowding the streets. He couldn’t see any Guard or Priests, but how many of these people were Blessed? He heard a cough, looked up. Duncan was passing the junction ahead of them. He must have moved fast through the buildings to overtake them. He gestured with his head down a narrow street between dark, glassy homes and kept going in the opposite direction.

  Alex led the way into the constricted alleyway, concerned he was heading directly into a trap. Their Austere robes suddenly felt like a ludicrous, flimsy disguise. Surely they were plain as day to anyone looking closely. His only hope was that whoever had turned up in Ward Five was not yet considering the Austere as targets. A low whistle caught his ear. Lily, half hidden in the shade of a window, pointed across the alley. Someone he didn’t know waited in a doorway, a very tall man with hollow cheeks, who nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and stepped inside. Taking a deep breath, Alex shuffled into the gloomy dwelling, his friends following behind.

  Duncan emerged behind the tall man and smiled, but his eyes were nervous. ‘Upstairs.’

  They followed instructions and huddled in a small room. The tall man came in, closely followed by Duncan and Lily.

  ‘This is Monty,’ Duncan said. ‘He’s a friend.’

  Alex pulled down his hood, smiled at Monty’s stunned expression. ‘Thank you. What’s happening here?’

  ‘Told ye they were real,’ Duncan said to Monty. He turned to Alex. ‘The Guard and Priests have been roaming everywhere. They keep talking about some rogue Priests in strange clothes, spreading lies and dissent.’

  ‘They’re trying to find ye without admitting ye’re here,’ Lily said. ‘Pretending some of their own have gone rogue. And they’ve got the Blessed working overtime. We’ve caught two already.’

  ‘Really?’

  Lily pulled aside a screen of thick woven fibres revealing two lowen, hog-tied and gagged. Their eyes were wide and wild with fear, bulging further from their heads at the sight of Alex and his friends. ‘Scum who would sell out their fellow lowen for a few extra serves of food or new clothes!’ She kicked one, threatened the other with a fist and laughed when he flinched.

  Alex crouched down, pulled the gag from one. ‘Why do you do it?’

  The man’s eyes darted left and right, his mouth trembled. ‘It’s not
us who are the problem! We’re just trying to bring some order to Obsidian. The Priesthood looks after us and provides for us. They lead us to Ascension. People like these, they risk everything for all of us.’

  ‘Risk what, exactly?’

  ‘Peace, prosperity, even Ascension. They think we’re the enemy, but we just want harmony and order.’

  Alex scowled, shook his head. The politics here were complicated, it was not his concern to fathom them. And he could hardly tell these people they were simply farm animals. ‘What were you asked to do?’

  ‘The Priests said there were a few of their number, people who looked like them, but dressed strangely, trying to undermine everything. Mad, they said ye were, and not to be trusted. They were worried some people might be hiding ye from them. And they were right!’

  Alex replaced the gag, stood up. ‘These two have to stay here, they’ve seen too much. And they know we’re hiding as Austere.’

  Lily nodded, pulled the screen back across. ‘Monty, guard these two with your life.’ She handed him a dark, wicked blade of obsidian glass, its hilt wrapped in rough canvas. ‘Do anything to ensure they don’t get away.’

  ‘What if the Guard search in here again?’ Monty asked.

  Lily shrugged. ‘If the Guard come back, the first thing ye do is silence those two permanently.’

  Monty nodded, his face drawn with worry.

  A small, elderly woman came up the stairs carrying a tray with dried and sick looking vegetables, hard bread and small cups of water. ‘Our hospitality to ye,’ she said, not looking anyone in the eye. She retreated as quickly as she had arrived.

  ‘Thank you!’ Alex called after her. He took some food, thankful as his stomach rumbled, though still concerned about what the food grown here might do to him and his friends. Silhouette and Jarrod stayed to one side, no need or desire to partake, while Alex, Claude and Rowan ate quickly and gratefully.