by Sharon Sant
‘Perhaps they will ask me after all?’
‘Or perhaps they will try that much harder to reach him. You say you felt him start to wake?’ She nodded. ‘Then they may start to feel it too, regardless of your intervention, once his consciousness gains strength.’
‘Then we’re done? I just go home?’
‘You will go home, but not to that primitive backwater you used to call home. All we have to do is kill Ioh.’
She tore her gaze away from his hypnotic stare as though it was burning her. Flashes of images assailed her - Jacob lying helpless on a cliff top, completely at her mercy…
‘And we must deal with the child too,’ he concluded.
Alex looked up, the colour washed from her face. ‘Why?’
‘To be absolutely certain.’
A sudden wave of hatred coursed through her. ‘You can’t kill a baby!’
‘We must do whatever necessary to protect your legacy.’
‘My legacy? What about the baby’s life? How can you murder an innocent kid?’
‘Better to do it now than later. And before the Council have time to send it away.’
Alex started to reply, but a sudden realisation crashed in on her like a rock fall and the words died in her throat. She had seen the truth and she had denied it. But she could not deny it any longer. She stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. ‘You…’ she whispered.
‘And I would do it again,’ Makash replied, his cold expression showing no remorse.
Alex staggered back, her eyes as black with hatred as his. ‘Your own brother’s children?’
‘My brother took everything that was rightfully mine. It was no less than he deserved.’
Alex turned and ran blindly for her chambers, locking the door behind her before throwing herself onto the bed. She knew that locking her door wouldn’t keep him out but she did it anyway. She hated this tower; she hated her chambers no matter what she did to make them look better. She wanted to be anywhere but here. How could Jacob have let this man take her? He was the Watcher, he should have protected her. She was trapped with this maniac now and it was his fault.
Makash’s voice came from the doorway. ‘We have work to do.’
Alex wheeled round to face him. ‘I won’t do it,’ she yelled.
He sighed theatrically. ‘Don’t be such a weakling. You are about to become the most potent symbol in creation. Show your mettle and finish the task.’
‘You’re not listening to me,’ she growled, sitting up. ‘I won’t do it!’
‘I don’t need you to kill the child, I have power enough for that. I only need you to kill Ioh.’
‘I will not let you hurt that baby!’
In a flash his icy hands were at her throat. ‘You may be powerful, but you cannot always be on your guard. And you cannot leave this place until I allow it.’
‘You wouldn’t kill me,’ Alex breathed. ‘You need me.’
‘Not necessarily,’ he replied, releasing his grip. ‘What is to prevent me taking the new Successor in your place?’ She stared at him, unable to think of a response. ‘It would be tiresome, however,’ he continued, ‘waiting for the child to come of age and I would rather not if I can help it.’
She clutched at her throat and drew a great breath as he stepped away from her.
‘I must pay a visit to our young Council member. I expect you to be more agreeable on my return.’
With that, his form faded. Alex buried her face in the pillow and wept.
Trego was bowed over his desk, deep in thought. The day’s events had been a gift, one too precious to waste, and he tackled his study of the prophecy with new vigour. If he could decipher it, perhaps he could bring Ioh back and, with the birth of the new Successor, order could be returned to their world. It seemed more likely than ever that the prophecy held the key to it all. Everything made sense other than the star. Did the new Successor have some part to play? Perhaps, but then the child was of their world, so that wouldn’t be right. He had even considered Kya and the human boy who had accompanied Ioh on his search for her, and discounted them both. He sighed heavily. Perhaps he was on the wrong track completely. Perhaps Karo was right and the prophecy was nothing more than a meaningless scribble left by some ancient, bored scribe.
He stretched himself out and realised that the room had darkened while he worked. Rising from his chair, he crossed the floor to adjust the lamp and pour himself a drink. As he rested his eyes he tried a call out to Ioh - not because he had any delusion of success, but out of habit. The void was as cold and bleak as ever. If he could just talk to his friend he might have the answers.
The riddle of the prophecy deepened the more he turned it over in his mind. He still couldn’t understand who had torn the scroll in half and hidden the second piece, and why they would have done such a thing.
His musings were interrupted by a smart rap at his door. It startled him and he jolted his cup, the liquid flirting into the air and spilling over his sleeve. Silently chiding himself for his jumpiness, he brushed it off and went to get the door.
‘Trego,’ Karo said in a low voice. ‘You must let me in.’
‘There was no question of me not letting you in,’ Trego replied, a hint of amusement in his brown eyes. ‘I have never been so blessed by your presence in my humble chambers as I have lately.’
Karo stepped in with a quick glance up and down the hallway as he did so. ‘You think our situation funny?’ he asked, staring hard from under his bushy brows.
‘Not remotely,’ Trego returned. ‘I’m just tired of being afraid.’
‘Then I do not need to tell you why I am here.’ Karo took Trego’s seat at the desk without asking for permission and picked up Trego’s notes. ‘You persist in this obsessive pursuit?’
‘I do not consider it obsessive,’ Trego answered, taking the notes from Karo and putting them in a drawer. ‘I call it helping a friend and saving a people from themselves.’
‘Makash wants you silenced.’
‘Probably. But I believe that the Council will protect me.’
‘You… you believe we have the might to save you from his power? Are you mad?’
‘I didn’t say that. I mean that I do not think he would dare attack me openly now. If anything was to happen to me, he would be the first person under suspicion and he needs to keep the Council’s favour to get Kya in power.’
‘He does not need the Council’s favour; it is a courtesy that he affords us. If he wished, he could openly attack and the outcome would be the same.’
‘Nevertheless, he would rather take power with their blessing.’
‘Have you considered how much graver the situation has become now that the new Successor has been born?’
‘Yes. But it changes nothing for me. If anything, it shows me that we can regain order if we can get Ioh back.’
‘It is a dangerous game you play, Trego. Makash will not rest until he has Kya in power.’
Trego gave a small smile. ‘Is that why you have allied yourself with him?’
‘I ally myself with no one.’
‘So you oppose me like this for entertainment?’
Karo ground his teeth. ‘I oppose you because you’re wrong. Makash came to me, I admit, he asked me to support him. I did so because I could see the sense in his argument as the best course of action for the Astraen people. But I do not ally myself with a murderer.’
‘However you view it, there will be a murderer in power.’
‘Kya will be in power.’
‘We both know that she will be a puppet. It is just as he tried to do with Ioh. But Ioh showed the courage and strength to deny him and that is why I believe he is the stronger Watcher.’
‘Then you are a fool.’
‘From you, I will take that as a compliment.’
Karo stood. ‘I came to warn you. I’m clearly wasting my breath.’
‘I’m sorry to have been the cause of your respiratory discomfort.’ Trego followed him to the d
oor. Karo looked as though he would speak once more, but then closed his mouth again and swept from the room.
Trego clicked the door shut and leaned against it, trying to collect his thoughts. He looked down and saw that his hands were shaking. Did he really have the strength to go through with this, no matter what he believed? Perhaps Karo was right, perhaps it would be better to have Kya in power - at least things would be stable again. Shrugging off the idea, he returned to the drawer where he had stowed his parchments and took them back to his desk.
‘There has to be something in here,’ he murmured to himself shuffling back to the start of his notes yet again. He pulled out the drawings and held them up to the light, turning them this way and that to see if there might be a simple clue in the construction of the designs, something so pure and uncomplicated it could easily be overlooked searching for a more complex meaning.
Something caught his attention. The depiction of the star had another shape interwoven in the design. He peered closely at it, pulling the paper almost to his face. It had always looked like a plain scribe of a star, the traditional way that stars were represented in Astraen texts. Excitement mounting, he traced the outline of the internal character onto a spare piece of parchment and hurried to a shelf where he kept a book of ancient symbols. He dragged the book over to the desk and began to flick through the pages. Finally, he came to the one that matched and smiled. He had been on the right track all along. The symbol told him that one of the possibilities he had considered, the boy, could now be discounted. But if not him, surely not Kya? He needed to know more from Ioh himself. Biting back frustration, he closed his eyes and tried to connect again. Once again he was disappointed to find nothing but the cold distance of Space between them. He let out a deep sigh and began to make new notes in the margins of the densely annotated paperwork. His thoughts returned to Karo. Should he call him, let him know about the discovery? Perhaps it would persuade him of the value of the prophecy after all? Karo seemed now to be the most dangerous ally Makash had in the Council, even if he did not intend to be. He let his thoughts wander to join with Karo’s outer consciousness, the courteous way he had been taught, and waited for a response. After a few moments of silence, Trego had to conclude that Karo was avoiding him.
Trego yawned and stretched. The hour was late and staying up in his exhausted state didn’t seem a very productive thing to do. He was just about to lock the door of his chambers when there was a knock.
‘Karo, I think I have the answer…’ Trego began as he opened the door.
But Karo was not outside the door.
‘Very clever, Trego,’ Makash said in a low voice. ‘What a pity you won’t be able to share your wisdom.’
Trego stumbled back, his thoughts frozen. Makash stepped into his chambers and quietly closed the door behind him.
Thirteen: The Colour of a Soul
Finding the child would be the easy part; she was drawn to another like her as a moth was drawn to a flame. The difficulty lay in hiding from her uncle the thoughts that raced through her mind. Throwing a hooded sweatshirt over her white tunic, Alex concentrated on what she would need to do to emulate Makash’s favourite trick. She was certain that he was unaware of the true rate at which she was developing her skills, and that was the way she intended to keep it. Dressed and ready, she took a quick look at the mirror. The contrast of her modern Earth hoodie teamed with such traditional Astraen robes was jarring, but it didn’t concern her. What concerned her was the colour of her eyes, as easy to read as if she had laid her soul open like the pages of a book. It was the one thing she was finding difficult to control, and it seemed the longer she lived as an Astraen, the worse the problem became. But if she was to conceal her mission from Makash, she would have to master it.
Suddenly overcome by a shock so profound it ripped through her, she gripped the sides of her dressing table and squeezed her eyes shut. He had killed Trego. She had always known him capable, but to finally experience that malevolence first hand, it somehow made it more real, more appalling. She had only a little time to act now, whilst he was busy with Karo. Screwing her face in concentration, she plunged into the place of her power and faded from the chambers.
As Alex reappeared on the street, a gasp of relief escaped her. She did not fully understand the mechanics of how she had landed in the right place without knowing its physical location – her power was so often still a mystery, even to her – but right now she did not care; she was only glad that she could. It was small wonder that Jacob chose not to master this particular trick – terror lay in the notion that one might not be able to reform properly, if at all, once the destination was reached, and face eternity floating as atoms. Glancing quickly around, she pulled up her hood and started to walk towards the tiny house. She could have transported herself directly into the family’s home, but she suspected that alarming them was not the best way to gain their trust.
The street she was on was more like an avenue at home - wide and straight. But that was where the similarity ended. The houses were interconnected, a long, white slab of a concrete-like substance, perfectly smooth and uniform with a row of low window openings and doors and flat roofs. Every house separate yet one complete whole, like the people of Astrae themselves. The evening was balmy; the sky a deep ochre, strewn with luminous, pearl-grey clouds. She could see that this district was not a grand place, like the district that housed the Council chambers, and it was somewhere that had not felt the influence of Ioh’s remodelling. It was almost a shock that a future Watcher could be born into such humble surroundings. She felt herself drawn to the door, as if she were a fish on a line being reeled in. One last glance up and down the near-deserted avenue, and then she knocked hesitantly.
It was opened by a man with a shock of thick, black hair and astonishingly green eyes. Watchers and Successors were the only people whose eyes changed colour - it was one of the things that marked them out - and Alex mused vaguely that if her eyes were this colour all the time she would not want to be marked out as anything else.
‘Yes?’ The man queried, darting a nervous glance behind her at the avenue beyond.
‘You don’t know me…’ Alex began, suddenly feeling foolish, ‘but I wondered if I could come in.’
Her face was in shadow beneath the hood, but his expression relaxed slightly as he heard the youth in her voice.
‘You want to see the child?’ You wouldn’t be the first today.’
Alex wondered whether to simply issue the warning she had come to give right there over the doorstep and leave, but something compelled her to go inside.
He opened the door to admit her and she followed him into a tiny living space. It was warm, lit with a mellow orange glow and decorated with soft blankets and tapestries bearing Astrae’s traditional runic designs. In the corner, on a hollowed out pile of these blankets, sat a young woman - not much older than Alex herself - nursing a baby. Her hair was as black as her husband’s but her eyes were dark, a rich shade like melted chocolate. The child was wrapped in a blanket and a surprising quantity of dark hair could be seen poking from the top. Alex stared at the small bundle, fighting the craving to edge forwards and take the baby in her arms. She stopped herself, knowing that it wasn’t the right thing to do.
But she was unable to prevent the sudden connection, as strong and primal as the urge to breathe, and she was inside the baby’s head. It was fresh and clean, a place untouched by pain. And she suddenly wanted to weep for her own lost innocence. She yanked herself away and back to her task. The man was staring at her as she refocused on him. He had already worked out that this was no ordinary visitor.
‘My name is Kya,’ she said, her real name strange and awkward on her lips. The woman gasped, staring at the man with reproach and pulling the baby in close. ‘I don’t want to hurt him,’ Alex added quickly. She took her hood down. ‘I don’t have much time.’
‘Why would you come, Kya, other than to destroy your rival?’ The man edged towards his family
in a protective stance. Alex could have blown them to pieces, right there, if she had chosen to. He must have known that, she thought, but still he tried.
‘I promise I haven’t. But my uncle will. I have come to tell you that you must hide him.’
The woman looked close to tears. ‘We have nowhere that could hide him from Makash. You must know that.’
‘Take him to the Council and get them to protect him.’
‘The Council have said they will come for him when they are ready. Until then we must bide our time,’ the man replied.
‘And you’re happy with that?’ Alex asked, incredulous at the stupidity of the people in charge of a whole planet.
The man shook his head miserably. ‘What else can we do?’
The woman started to weep quietly, her head bent over the baby.
‘You don’t want to be parted from him, do you?’ Alex asked, her features softening, her emotions pulling in a way they had never done before. The woman looked up at her, tears spilling down her cheeks.
‘I don’t want him to be taken as Watcher either,’ she whispered. ‘He’s my baby.’
‘But we have to give him up, it’s the law,’ the man cut in.
‘It’s a stupid law,’ Alex grunted in reply. If there was one thing she would do as Watcher, it was to put an end to this barbaric tradition. Children needed parents.
‘Why have you come, Kya?’ The man’s features showed a hint of suspicion again. ‘You take a great risk just to warn us when your life would be easier without the new Successor.’
Alex regarded him steadily. He may have pretended to be a poor member of society, but his insight into the politics of the Council was a keen one. The child, if he ever made it as far as Watcher, would be a wise one. ‘I guess I’m just kinda fond of babies,’ she smiled.
The woman sniffed back her tears. ‘We are grateful for your warning. We’ll make plans to leave this place and find somewhere to hide.’
