Nightfall

by Den Patrick

  – From the memoir of Drakina Tveit, Lead Librarian of Midtenjord Province

  ‘Gods, I hate sailing,’ said Streig. To say the ship was crowded would be an understatement. The other soldiers kept to themselves, nursing their wounds and their silence in equal measure. A few simply stared into the distance and Streig had the feeling they were reliving parts of the battle, perhaps fearing as he did that they would be buried and never make it out alive. The staring men were startled easily, and the night-times were accompanied by the sounds of sobbing. Bittervinge might not have killed these men but he had surely broken them.

  Time is a great healer, Streig.

  He clutched the rucksack containing the urn more tightly and looked about. He had barely moved from the cramped corner he’d settled in.

  ‘It’s not healing you though, is it?’

  One needs to be alive to heal, and I have not had that privilege for a long time now.

  Two dignitaries sat close by, attempting to outdo one another by demonstrating their knowledge of the Empire’s predicament, or naming powerful contacts in Khlystburg, hoping to elevate themselves by association. Streig couldn’t tell if it was the motion of the ship or the companions that turned his stomach.

  Perhaps it would be best if you walked a few lengths of the deck to stretch your legs.

  ‘I don’t see how that will help,’ replied Streig, taking a moment to steady himself. ‘I’ll still feel sick.’

  But it will spare you from listening to these tiresome fools.

  Streig rose to his feet. ‘Gods damn it,’ he whispered under his breath. ‘Do you have to be right about everything, all the time?’

  If only that were true.

  The sea was choppy and the ship rolled unpleasantly. No sooner had Streig reached the deck than he overheard the captain conversing with his first mate.

  ‘No good will come of it.’ The captain was holding a telescope up to one eye and frowning. He was a tall man in his fifties with a serious demeanour. There was a good deal of white and grey in his beard, which was neatly trimmed. His jacket and boots were in good repair, much like his ship. He caught Streig’s glance and nodded to him.

  ‘Are you the soldier with huge sword I keep hearing about?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘I’m Captain Hewn of the Eastern Star.’

  ‘Streig.’

  ‘They tell me you faced Bittervinge in the Great Library.’ Hewn fixed him with a disbelieving look. ‘That true?’

  ‘I was there.’

  ‘What happened?’ asked Hewn.

  ‘It was like trying to fight an earthquake,’ replied Streig. ‘An earthquake with teeth and talons that are large enough to eviscerate a man. We wounded him and eventually he took to wing. I suppose he decided he had a score to settle with the Emperor.’ Streig gestured to the telescope. ‘I overheard you talking. You said, “No good will come of it”?’

  Captain Hewn pointed towards the horizon, still several miles distant but Streig knew the capital city was within reach.

  ‘Khlystburg. They too have a blockade and I don’t care much for my chances.’

  ‘But we have special dispensation,’ said Streig, thinking of the corporal’s words on Arkiv. ‘We’re all loyal to the Empire.’

  ‘That’s well and good,’ replied Hewn, ‘but the Vigilants on the Imperial ships might choose to call down the arcane on us before asking any questions. Tensions are high and the Empire isn’t known for its light touch.’ Captain Hewn’s eyes widened slightly as he remembered he was addressing a soldier. ‘No offence, but you know what I mean.’

  ‘Unfortunately I do.’ Streig paused, confused at the captain’s words. ‘Do you mean to say the Vigilants are using their powers in public?’ Streig couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The carefully maintained fiction that the arcane was a taint was paramount to the Empire. If the Holy Synod were using their powers openly they would be branded liars and hypocrites.

  ‘Rumours of people using the arcane are coming from every corner of the Empire now,’ said Captain Hewn. ‘And the Scorched Republics too. I can’t say I’m surprised the Synod uses that power.’ The captain looked over his shoulder to check no one else was listening. ‘I never trusted them, though they pay well and their coin is as good as anyone else’s.’ The captain took another look through the telescope and sighed. ‘Damn it.’

  He turned to his first mate and muttered something in a dialect Streig couldn’t understand. The first mate in turn bellowed at the crew and the men and women went to work at sheets and braces. The ship swung south in response, turning away from Khlystburg.

  ‘Wait!’ said Streig. ‘I have to get to the city.’

  ‘You and everyone else aboard,’ replied Captain Hewn. ‘We’ll put in further down the coast, somewhere we won’t be turned to ashes by Vigilants. You’ll have to make your own way on foot after that.’

  ‘But it’s imperative I reach the docks.’ Streig clutched the bag containing the urn a little tighter.

  ‘And it’s imperative I don’t take any risks that see my ship and my crew burned with arcane fire. I’m sorry. You’ll be able to reach the outskirts of the city after a day’s walk or so.’ Captain Hewn turned away and checked in with his crew, leaving Streig alone.

  Do not give up hope, Streig. I believe in you. You are nothing if not resourceful.

  ‘Resourceful isn’t the same thing as creating miracles. We’ve barely any food, little coin, no allies, and Khlystburg is at war.’ Streig made an irritated noise in the back of his throat and stared at the horizon. ‘Think I’ll stay up on deck tonight,’ he added. ‘I can’t stand being underground. I mean, below decks. I don’t want to sleep down there again with all those bickering dignitaries.’

  We shall rest where you are most comfortable.

  Streig took up a spot at the bow and a member of the crew supplied an old cloak from a sea chest. The sun set in a swirl of bloody reds and the wind abandoned them, leaving the ship becalmed. All night Streig drifted in and out of sleep just as the ship drifted one way and then another, going nowhere. Dark dreams of falling masonry and burning books woke him, damp with cold sweat and ready to fight. Streig stood up to shake off the last of his night terrors and dragged down a shaky lungful of breath. He squinted in the early-morning light, unsure of what he was seeing.

  Streig.

  ‘I know, I can see them.’ Three flecks of darkness in a dawn sky of vermilion and faded yellow. Streig wanted to call out to Captain Hewn but every muscle was locked in place. ‘Not again. I can’t do this. We have to get away.

  But we are becalmed, and even if we were not we would fail to outrun them.

  ‘I can’t face another dragon. Not again.’

  It is not Bittervinge.

  ‘How can you tell?’ whispered Streig.

  Bittervinge never took allies; he only ever worked alone. There are three of them, are there not?

  ‘Yes, three. And they’re heading this way.’ The silhouettes were closer now, but something was amiss. ‘I know they call Steiner the dragon rider, but I never thought it possible.’

  What is it?

  ‘I think these dragons have riders,’ said Streig. There was no doubt now that the three dragons were approaching, and the crew of the Eastern Star called out in alarm. Soon the passengers were on deck and a look of silent dread passed over everyone.

  ‘We may not survive this if they think we’re Imperial soldiers,’ whispered Streig to the urn, but for once Silverdust had no words of wisdom to offer.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Kimi

  Nothing captured the imagination of the people quite like the simple act of flying a dragon. People from six years old to sixty-six wondered at it, dreamed about it, spoke about the wonder of it. It was this that helped build Kimi Enkhtuya’s legend and establish Taiga as a spiritual leader during those dark days.

  – From the memoir of Drakina Tveit, Lead Librarian of Midtenjord Province

  ‘Why are we flying so
uth?’ shouted Tief at the top of his lungs. The dragons beat their wings with a slow, steady rhythm. Kimi hunched closer to Namarii and squinted against the wind. She gripped the smaller spines at the base of Namarii’s neck and tucked her boots into the grooves between the scales.

  ‘Can you tell him that we’re looking for food using the arcane,’ said Kimi. ‘I barely have a voice left.’ They had been awake most of the night, hoping to avoid another clash with Bittervinge.

  I have told them. Namarii had been quiet since the attack at the Imperial Court. His responses were short and subdued and Kimi had left him to his thoughts.

  ‘Rest at last,’ she said. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how tired you must be.’

  It is of no concern, replied Namarii. They began to descend a few miles south of the city, a good distance from the port with its blockade and the promise of Vigilants. One by one, the dragons touched down in a cove barely big enough to contain them. Dark cliffs rose on each side and the sea whispered a hushed song on the shingle that formed the beach. Gulls shrieked in alarm at the dragons’ arrival before departing at speed. The sun had risen but Kimi had no qualms about sleeping during the day.

  ‘This is the perfect spot for smuggling,’ said Tief as he dismounted Stonvind. ‘You can bet your boots Romola would love it here.’

  Kimi felt a pang of loss for her friend. Had they been friends, or had they merely been useful to one another? Regardless, Kimi would do anything to see the captain of the Watcher’s Wait again. Perhaps Romola would have some method of slipping past the father of dragons to strike at the Emperor.

  ‘I’ve come around to the idea that flying is spectacular,’ said Taiga. She pressed her hands to her lower back and stretched. ‘But it’s not the most comfortable. Goddess help me. And my backside.’

  As one, Namarii, Stonvind, and Flodvind took off, gliding low above the waters of the Ashen Gulf. Every so often one would open their mouth, ploughing through the sea to dredge up fish. Kimi sat on the uncomfortable stones, feeling the chill of the dawn air on her skin. Riding a dragon was not unlike working a furnace, and the drop in temperature made her shiver.

  ‘You’ve got a look about you,’ said Tief. Kimi didn’t meet his eyes, but slung her pack behind her and lay back. Taiga rummaged around in her own pack for tea and mugs.

  ‘He’s right,’ said the priestess. ‘You do have a look about you. What’s on your mind?’

  ‘We faced the Emperor,’ replied Kimi. ‘And he was too strong for us. Too strong for them.’ She nodded out to sea where the dragons hunted.

  ‘We were testing the defences is all,’ replied Tief, taking out his pipe. ‘That counts for something. I dare say the dragons grow in confidence each time we engage in one of these skirmishes.’

  ‘Could you at least make a fire before you start smoking?’ chided Taiga.

  ‘I want vengeance for my father,’ said Kimi. ‘And for myself. I want an end to the Solmindre Empire.’

  ‘We’ll get him,’ replied Tief, his tone gruff as he took out a bundle of firewood from his pack. ‘I’m here to avenge the Spriggani, remember?’

  ‘But it’s likely we will have to kill Bittervinge first,’ said Taiga, sounding none too confident at the prospect. ‘We can’t fight the Emperor with the father of dragons snapping at our heels.’

  ‘It’s not my heels I’m worried about,’ rumbled Tief.

  ‘I’d be better off heading south,’ said Kimi, ‘and avenging myself on my worthless brother.’

  ‘We came to kill the Emperor,’ said Tief. ‘That was always the plan.’ His expression darkened. ‘Besides, we just saw people in the Imperial Court carrying out their own rebellion. We’re not doing this alone any more.’

  ‘Did you see who they were?’ called out Taiga as she looked for driftwood to add to the campfire.

  Tief shook his head. ‘It was too dark and there was too much happening,’ he said. ‘I think one of them was a Vigilant, a renegade Vigilant.’

  ‘I just …’ Kimi sighed. ‘There’s no question Namarii, Flodvind, and Stonvind are growing stronger all the time, but we’re up against Bittervinge, father of dragons, terror of Vinterkveld. He was in the world before me, before my mother, before my grandmother. What chance do we stand against that much experience, that much power?’

  ‘Perhaps if you used the Ashen Blade on him,’ said Tief. ‘A weapon like that—’

  ‘It’s evil!’ replied Kimi. ‘I won’t sully myself by wielding it.’

  ‘It might be your only way,’ said Taiga softly. ‘As distasteful as it is.’

  ‘I won’t use that blade,’ repeated Kimi. ‘I won’t.’

  The sun was edging above the horizon now, though the light revealed a host of grey, blurry clouds that did nothing to lift Kimi’s spirits.

  ‘Who are they?’ said Taiga, pointing at a ship far out on the Ashen Gulf.

  ‘Whoever they are,’ replied Tief with a wicked laugh, ‘they’re about to be disappointed. The blockade at Khlystburg won’t let them through and there’s no other port nearby.’

  ‘You don’t think it strange that all the other ships we’ve seen are leaving the city and this one is arriving?’ said Kimi.

  ‘Maybe they haven’t heard the Empire is falling apart.’ Tief shrugged. ‘Too bad for them.’

  The dragons, who had ventured further south on their fishing expedition, returned in a great commotion of scaled wings and grasping talons. Kimi shielded her face with her arm as grit swirled about them. Taiga shouted incoherently as the fire she had been trying to light was blown apart.

  ‘What is it?’ shouted Kimi. Flodvind prowled to the shoreline once the dragons had landed.

  There is something on that boat. The azure dragon was very still, her eyes fixed on the sailing ship that was even now changing course to avoid them.

  ‘Could you be more specific?’ asked Tief irritably, his pipe clenched between his teeth. Flodvind let out a small snort of sooty air that indicated exactly what she thought of his request. Tief jetted pipe smoke from his nostrils in response.

  Was that it?

  Tief looked at his pipe ruefully. ‘I was being ridiculous, sorry.’ Flodvind turned her attention back to the ship.

  There is an artefact of some kind, but also something else. A cinderwraith perhaps, or something like a cinderwraith.

  ‘Silverdust!’ said Kimi. ‘It’s Silverdust. We have to get him.’ She scrambled up on to Namarii’s neck. Perhaps the Exarch would know how to defeat Bittervinge without resorting to using the Ashen Blade.

  ‘We don’t know that for sure,’ said Tief with a sneer. ‘Besides, why would he be this far south?’

  Namarii launched into the air before Kimi could say more. The dark brown dragon’s voice sounded gently in her head as they took to wing.

  Your friend is not so keen to accost a ship we know nothing about.

  ‘And you?’

  I am tired. If the cinderwraith is the prisoner of Vigilants then things will become lively, but it seems important to you.

  ‘Lively,’ replied Kimi with a smirk. ‘That’s a nice word for it.’

  This Silverdust, he is an ally of yours? A friend?

  ‘He remained behind on Vladibogdan to buy us time. He set you free.’

  He was useful. He will be useful again. Namarii’s wings beat harder and he stretched out his neck in order to fly faster.

  The dragons rounded up the ship in a way that reminded Kimi of three very large sheepdogs herding a lone sheep. The idea, though ridiculous, wouldn’t leave her and she found her spirits improved, but not by much. Kimi directed the ship to the cove and the long process of transferring people ashore in small boats began. Flodvind continued to circle the ship, gliding over the waters, while Stonvind perched atop the cliffs, looking down on everyone with a baleful glare.

  ‘They don’t seem to have Vigilants with them,’ said Kimi to Namarii.

  Flodvind has the gift of sight. She assures me there is just the artefact and the cinderwrai
th.

  Namarii touched down on the beach and Kimi slipped off his back. She drew the sword she’d used to kill Veles, more to give her confidence than out of any wish to use it. The people cowered before her and the few armed men and women among them threw down their blades. Everyone looked horrified in the presence of three dragons, not least because Stonvind could be heard growling from his perch on the cliff edge far above them. Tief had found a way down to the beach and fell in beside Kimi.

  ‘What are we doing here, Your Highness?’ he said.

  ‘Looking for Silverdust, of course.’ She turned to the people. ‘Which one of you is the captain?’

  An older man stepped forward, eyes darting from Namarii to Stonvind up on the cliff edge and back to Kimi and her drawn sword.

  ‘I’m Matthias Hewn, captain of the Eastern Star.’

  ‘No one is getting eaten,’ she said loud enough for all to hear. The sense of relief in the small cove was like a gentle wave of cool water.

  ‘You have a Vigilant with you?’ asked Kimi. ‘An Exarch?’ The captain shook his head.

  ‘We came from Arkiv,’ said Hewn. ‘A few wounded soldiers and dozen or so dignitaries. Who are you?’

  ‘She is none other than Kimi Enkhtuya,’ proclaimed Tief in a booming voice. ‘Champion of Frøya; slayer of the dragon, Veles; a princess of Yamal. And you should be kneeling!’

  As one the captives dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.

  ‘Was that really necessary?’ said Kimi under her breath.

  ‘You seemed maudlin,’ said Tief. ‘I thought I’d remind you of a few things. It’s impressive when you hear it like that, eh?’ He grinned before starting to fuss with his pipe.

  ‘Captain Hewn,’ said Kimi. ‘Please, stand up. You’re sure a Vigilant didn’t come aboard? He would have appeared very tall, wearing a blank curving mask with a mirrored surface.’