by T. E. Hodden
“Enough!” The Empress snapped. “Braccus you will be taken from here and kept in custody. I hope in time you learn that what you see as weakness and rot, I see as progress that makes us stronger. I hope in time you learn that this Empire is capable of inspiring far more than fear. I urge you, if there is anything left at all of the friendship we once held, to cooperate with us in exposing the greater evil of your conspiracy.”
“I will serve as a reminder of why you make the throne useless by warming it with your behind,” Braccus snarled. “I refuse any mercy you offer, and I refuse to share any knowledge I have. If you want what is in my head, you will have to use your Grandfather's methods.”
“Torture is a line I will not cross!” The Empress spoke softly, but her words had run out.
“Because you are weak,” Braccus whispered. “You do not have the stomach to sit on that throne.”
“Or because it is barbaric!” One of the advisors muttered.
“You are weak!” Braccus snapped. “People will die because you can not do what needs to be done! You do not have the spine to face the truth!”
The Forum broke into uproar, with everybody trying to make their outrage heard.
“Enough!” The Empress boomed, magic saturating her words. “One at a time.”
People stood to be heard.
“Do you wish to face your own words?” One demanded.
“Let him. If it opens the truth or not, it will be a fitting punishment!” Another added.
Corvus stood.
“Lady Corvus?” The Empress silenced the rest of the Forum with a gesture.
“Braccus,” Corvus said, gently, “Where is the Wraitheart?”
Braccus started. “Why don't you tell me?”
“No.” Corvus pointed an accusing finger at him. “You tortured me for that question. If your methods work, why don't you tell me where the Wraitheart is?”
He seethed.
Corvus stared at Braccus. “History books on every world are full of innocent souls who confessed to the wildest fantasies, because the 'truth' was tortured out of them. You have no idea if I told you the truth, or said whatever I had to, in the hope of a respite. Your methods are sickening, they are wrong, and they have no place in this Court, but worse than all of this... they are useless.”
Corvus sat. I squeezed her shoulder. She gave me a smile.
“Then all you can do is beg!” Braccus jeered. “You will beg me for all I know, and it will be too late. The True Heirs will bring this circus to its knees, and we will rise! We will rise!”
The Empress clapped her hands, and the enchantments around Braccus silenced his ranting tirade. She shook her head. “Take him away, and place him in solitary custody, under absolute security.”
The guards stepped into the circle of magic, and there was a pulse of light as they were vanished away.
Corvus slumped forwards, putting her head on her hands.
“Oh,” Ashel said, her voice husky with concern. “It is over Corvi, it is all done now.”
“For now, perhaps,” Corvus agreed. “It must be time to go home?”
“Of course, it is,” Ashel looked up at me. “Robert, given these are uncertain times, you will have to forgive me if I insist you stay where I know you will be safe?”
“I would not wish to intrude.” I felt my cheeks grow scarlet. “I know my existence is-”
“You saved my daughter's life!” Ashel chided me. “You are welcome. Besides, if trouble comes looking for Corvi, I want a good man at her side.”
I bowed my head. “Thank you.”
Corvus grinned at me, and nodded for me to follow her.
*
I walked around the Emberleaf Palace, exploring the vast ballrooms, galleries, and galleries connected by the spacious, airy, passageways. I found myself at a glass dome in the heart of the palace. I looked in to the domed garden, expecting to see a tropical hothouse.
A flurry of snow danced in the dome, settling against the glass. There were ivory white trees, veiled in fingers of ice, choked by silver vines from which clusters of small flowers, and berries, in many shades of blue. There were monoliths of stone in a circle, which were choked by more of the winter flowers.
I placed my hand to the door, and felt the locks clunk open within. I pushed the door open and stepped into the brisk, bitter winter within the dome. There was a slight breeze. Above the dome, the sun was setting, turning the sky the colours of fire. I walked around the frozen garden. The winter blooms smelt of sweet spices and sherbet.
Magic itched at the back of my mind. I touched one of the stones. It felt like marble, and was as smooth as glass. There was a warmth within the stone. Light moved across the surface like liquid, forming a series of geometric patterns, from overlapping shapes, a language of circles, squares and triangles, superimposed upon each other in countless unique way. All flashed at first, but most faded away, leaving a select few pulsing with energy.
Magic flared in the fabric of the stone.
“They are memory stones,” Ashel said, from the doorway. “What they show each of us, is different, depending on what others left here in their meditations, and what we bring with us.”
“I have never seen something like it.” I pointed at another of the stones. “May I?”
“Yes.” Ashel gestured for me to go ahead. “Please.”
I lay my hand on another of the stones, and a fresh message blinked to life. I noticed one of the symbols was three overlapping circles, like those hidden in the etchings on the pendant Corvus wore. The magic felt different.
“You can not read this, can you?” Ashel crouched and looked at the runes. “A family of the heart, not of the blood.”
The stone felt different. There was more to it than a message. Layers of magic were ticking away like a clockwork puzzle. There was the resonance of a stronger enchantment.
I touched the overlapping circles. “This is family?”
“Yes.” She looked up at me. “It knows us, you see. Just like the protection spells on our houses.”
I felt the shapes of the magic, and tried to twist my mind around them.
“I am not sure if the words are the bit I need to read,” I whispered. “The magic is...”
My mind found the right shape, and flames danced on my fingers, as I teased open the locks on the stone.
A swirl of snow danced above the stone. The flurry grew thicker, and condensed into the form of a man. He looked to be in his thirties, but there was something about the way he carried himself that suggested he had worn his youth a very long time.
My father was as I had known him in those few stolen glimpses as a child.
“Robert...” The recording faltered.
“Oh,” Ashel whispered. “Alec.”
“Robert, my firstborn, I do not know how far down the road you will see this.” The recording spoke in velvet tones. “I see too many forks in the road, where you will never know this world, or this life, while I am here to talk to you in person, and I am sorry you will only hear this in a time of mourning and loss. You never knew me, and because of me, you never knew your family, for that I will always be truly sorry. Your mother is a good woman, and deserved better than I gave her. That you are here, despite everything you must hate me for, shows she raised a better man than many here would believe of you. If you are seeing this then I am likely dead, and, my daughter, my heir, my Little Raven, will need you. She will need a good man. I hope you can forgive me enough of my mistakes to be here for her Robert.”
The recording dispersed to a flurry of snow.
“Lady Ashel,” I took her hands. “I am sorry, I did not mean to...”
“I miss him.” She gave me a sad smile. Her eyebrow raised. “How did you do that?”
“I could feel it under the surface, and...” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I was meant to.”
Ashel touched the stone. “I did not know he could do that...”
Thoughts chunked and clicked in my head. I to
uched the first stone again.
“Virtue through deeds,” Ashel said, softly.
“The messages are different for each of us?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“And I bet you know every message they tell Corvus, don't you?” I moved to the third of the five stones, and lay my hand on it. The message appeared.
“Yes.” She almost laughed, her cheeks rosy with pride. “Know thy heart.”
I touched the fourth. The message felt different. There was an undertone to the magic, harmony playing beneath the spells.
“Guide your family with honour,” Ashel whispered. “Corvus was told the same, by this stone.”
“And my father?”
“Alec was shown the same message too. Yes.” Ashel looked at me. “What are you thinking?”
“What is the Wraitheart?” I asked.
“A weapon, a terrible weapon from far darker times,” Ashel said, her tone growing cold. “If Braccus and his chums found it, they could rule any world they chose.” Her tone hardened. “Why?”
“We...” I drew my hand away from the stone. “We need to find Corvus, right now.”
“Why?”
“There is another message here, but it is not for me. What if Braccus was right?” I said. “What if Corvus was meant to inherit the Wraitheart, but she never knew, because I was meant to be here, to help her unlock the message? I... wasn't at the funeral.”
Ashel nodded, her shoulders slumping and her brow heavy with guilt. “One of many choices made in grief I have come to regret.” She touched behind her ear. “Corvus, Maysan, please attend to us.”
Maysan bled from the shadows, weaving herself from nothing. Corvus hurried into the dome from one of the passageways. I took Corvus by the hand and showed her to the stone.
“I know this message,” she warned me. “I read it a thousand times.”
“Try again?” I suggested. “For me?”
She touched the stone. I felt the magic in the stone changing timbre. I reached through and tickled the spells. The pieces fell into place, and the snow above the stone whipped themselves into the shape of the spectre.
“Corvus,” the recording addressed the horizon, “My daughter, my heir. I know that when you see this, I will be gone, and some of my secrets will have been dredged up. There is much I will have to apologise for, but I hope you will forgive me when you understand the responsibilities I have been carrying. Forgive the boy, he had no idea of his part in this until the day I died, and instructions were followed. There is a secret I have kept, and have guarded, from my enemies, from my family, from all who would use it, and now it is yours. You will find it in Schism, in the Slate Marshes. I trust you will do what is right. The burden of this duty will not always be easy to carry, but the rewards will be beyond your imagination.”
The Wraitheart... Maysan quivered with fury. He speaks of the Wraitheart.
“I don't want it!” Corvus shook her head. “I do not want such a weapon.”
“Then it must be destroyed,” Ashel declared, “Or put in the custody of somebody who can ensure it will never be used. Maysan, can you find me help?
Robert? Maysan suggested. Do you care to see a little more of the Loom?
“As you wish,” I bowed my head.
“He knows nothing of the Slate Marshes,” Corvus groaned. “He will get himself eaten or something, in less than a day, if I don't keep an eye on him.”
“Well, there it is then,” Ashel said, with a thin smile. “I will make arrangements.”
“Are you okay?” I asked Corvus.
“Yeah...” Corvus looked at her feet. “It didn't take you long to find trouble, did it?”
“That settles it.” Ashel shook her head. “He spends an afternoon here, and the sky starts falling down? He's family.”
*
The transport vessel was a ship with a hull of stained glass and brass. My cabin was near the keel, offering views of the mountains as we sailed into the night. I spent some time on the deck, watching the stars with Corvus. We could not find any words so we watched in a companionable silence, at first. We were over the sea when she found something to say at last.
“Do you still feel like London is home?” Corvus asked.
“Yes,” I sighed, “But I also think it is full of Policemen with difficult questions about dead friends.”
“If we do this...” She looked at me. If we stop the conspiracy from unleashing the weapon, your world will never know.”
“Believe me, it is a lot better that way.”
“I will know.” She considered me a moment. “You need to rest. You should try and sleep.”
I flushed. “You know?”
“I worked it out.” She put a hand on my chest. “Is she worth it?”
“She is worth saving a world to protect.”
Corvus shoved me away, and I made my way down through the ship to my quarters. Everything was compact, but comfortable. The bed was small and simple. I lay on it, and meditated my way down into my dreams.
There was a ballroom waiting for me. It was full of dancers, swirling and whirling in gowns and uniforms from across the centuries. I could not see Cylder's familiar form amongst them, but then again, knowing her sister's fondness of shifting, she could be wearing any of the faces.
“Cylder?” I asked.
“You have to find me Robert,” Cylder purred, her voice carried upon the music.
I stepped through the dancers, dodging their waltz, as I tried to watch the faces. There was a sea of unfamiliar smiles, and laughing strangers. There was only one smile that made my heart skip. It was upon a bloated, matronly old woman. The decades of laughter lines, and yellowing teeth, could not disguise it. I hurried after her, and gestured to cut in. She gripped me close as we danced.
“You found me!” She squeaked, in Cylder's smoky voice. “Do you think I am beautiful like this?”
“You always have the same smile.”
She reached up and covered my eyes, when she revealed them again, she was wearing her usual, regal, beautiful, form. “You are going further away?”
“My troubles are taking me to the Slate Marshes, to Schism. I have a weapon to find.”
“That is no small step to make,” Cylder stared into my eyes. “You will stay safe?”
“I will do my best,” I promised.
I adjusted my grip on her side. She did not resist. She drew in close, her breath catching in the corsets of her dress. The rest of the ballroom didn't seem to matter any more. Her eyes sparkled, and her smile sent my heart lurching out of gear.
“Who are all these people?” I asked.
“Me.” She flinched. “A form I wore, a person I was, for a little while. Every time I have fallen in love I was wearing one of those faces, and I was a... slightly different person, shaped by different times, and by a different people. London is a changing soul, and I have had to change with it, though I hope the heart of me is constant.”
“And every time is the first?” I asked.
She kissed me. It felt like a lightning storm on my lips. It was a kiss that left me weightless and full of thunder. She stepped back, and I kept up with her, stealing another kiss. The ballroom fell away, as she took my hand, and dragged me into other dreams.
I clung to the dreams as long as I could, feeling her warmth against me, even as I drifted back towards the surface.
*
The morning was clear and fine.
I stood on deck, watching the swampland and sinking forests crawl by beneath us. A herd of Zombies chased a deer through the ankle deep water, and fishermen paddled their boats between submerged masts, to gather shellfish that clustered on lengths of chain.
Maysan materialised in the corner of my vision.
You seem happy today. Her thoughts toyed with me. Sweet dreams?
“I slept well,” I said, trying not to blush. “Tell me about the Schism.”
“Once it was a city,” Ashel said, leaning on the railing beside me, watchi
ng the crew hurry about being busy. “The outer edge of the city covers the side of a chasm, but it burrows deep into the rock, like an ants' nest. There is a warren of streets, and squares, temples and factories, all in the caves... It fell to a terrible plague, and is abandoned now.”
By humans at least. There are more dangerous creatures in there now.
“Do we even know where to begin looking for this weapon?” I asked.
“Our family had holdings there,” Corvus joined us. She held up her pendant. “I think that is where I am supposed to begin looking.”
I watched my friends a moment. “What is this...Wraitheart?”
They all looked at me.
“You have said it is a weapon, and it is powerful, but what kind of a weapon?” I asked. “A sword? A spear? A disease? A warhead?”
A crystal ball, about this big, Maysan whispered, gesturing with her hands. It contains the soul of a Primal.
“A Primal?” I felt the shiver on my spine. “I thought Primals were a myth. The first sentient race, living in the Loom itself, unable to venture into life-bearing world?”
“Yes,” Ashel said, patiently, “But it is not in our world, it is caught in the magic of the crystal ball, in a pocket of Loom energy.”
“At least we know it can be destroyed.” Corvus gave me a confident smile. “If we take it back to the Empress it can be exposed to the Loom, and eaten away, just like a criminal being executed.”
A workable plan. Maysan faltered. I fear we are too close to Schism. My grip here is growing weak. I will not be able to follow you. Robert, I am trusting you to look after your-
Maysan was gone. I missed her presence.
Ashel tapped her lips with a finger. “She was going to say 'Sister', I assume?”
“Probably,” Corvus admitted. “Is that a problem?”
