The Chaos Crystal

by Jennifer Fallon

  'You can go now,' Lukys said to Jojo.

  The feline bowed. 'To serve you is the reason I breathe, my lord.'

  Treacherous flanking cat.

  'Go, and say nothing of this,' Lukys ordered the Crasii. 'When you're asked if you have seen this lizard, you are to tell them you saw her leaving the palace during the night and have no knowledge of her whereabouts.' The feline bowed again and then Lukys turned his attention to Tiji, as Jojo was swallowed by the darkness in the hall behind them.

  Tiji's skin flickered wildly as she looked back and forth, trying to keep Lukys and Taryx in sight at the same time. 'I'll scream!'

  'If it'll make you feel better,' Lukys said.

  'What are you going to do to me? Kill me?'

  'Probably,' Lukys said in a frighteningly reasonable tone. 'But for reasons far too complicated to go into now — reasons you cannot begin to understand — for the time being I want you alive, little Scard.'

  That was good news, Tiji supposed, but it still didn't account for this elaborate ruse to lure her down here into the bowels of the palace. 'Why?'

  'Didn't I just tell you I wasn't going to explain?' He turned to his left, which is when Tiji noticed the cavern sculpted into the wall behind him. 'For the time being,

  this will be your new home. You'll stay here until I need you again. Or until I don't need you. At which point you'll be free to share the fate of your friends once we have departed Amyrantha.'

  Tiji peered into the ice cave. As far as she could tell, it was quite large and completely open to the corridor. She smiled. Tides, do they think I'll stay put down here because they order me to?

  Ah, the arrogance of immortals, to think everyone, even a Scard, will do their bidding.

  'To serve you is the reason I breathe,' she said as she stepped into the cavern, her voice laden with scorn. She turned and smiled at the Tide Lord. 'I'll just wait here until you get back then, shall I?'

  'Why don't you do that?' Lukys said, his smile never wavering. 'Taryx. When you're ready.'

  Tiji met the Tide Lord's eye defiantly, waiting for him to leave so she could escape this place. And by the Tides, she was going to escape. Who cared if it was in the middle of nowhere? Perishing in the snow outside in a blizzard while bravely searching for freedom was preferable to staying here among these monsters a moment longer than she had to.

  Azquil could come with her or not. She was beyond caring about that.

  Lukys stared back at her for a while, his smile never wavering, until he began to blur a little around the edges. It was only then that Tiji realised the opening between them was no longer an opening. There was a barrier there now — a thin sheet of ice that was growing thicker by the minute. She realised then why Taryx was here — the master manipulator of ice and water. Tiji threw herself at the wall as the ice barrier thickened and whitened before her eyes. She bounced off the solid sheet of ice so hard when she threw herself at it, she bruised her shoulder.

  'No!' she screamed, pounding on the ice as the wall thickened so rapidly she could no longer even see the

  immortals standing on the other side. 'Nobody will believe I've just up and left! They'll know you've done something to me!'

  There was no response from the immortals. With a scream of frustration, Tiji sank to the floor as she realised the futility of her threat. Her very words echoed back at her in the sealed room, taunting her.

  Nobody will believe I've just up and left.

  Her last words to Azquil threatened exactly that.

  Tiji looked around in despair. She was completely shut in and unless the Tide Lords chose to free her, suffocation, starvation or the cold would kill her long before anybody noticed she was missing.

  CHAPTER 46

  Stellan pulled the curtain aside and glanced out of the coach's window at the snow-draped city of Herino, glad of the darkness. Ice crunched beneath the wheels as they moved along the city streets, although this late, there were few people abroad to comment on their carriage. In fact, there was nothing marking his vehicle as belonging to a king, for which he was extremely grateful. Stellan had no desire to draw attention to this outing.

  He let the dark curtain drop back into place and pulled his coat a little tighter. The more optimistic souls at court were starting to speak of the coming spring in hopeful terms. Stellan saw no sign of it yet.

  Admittedly, the weather had improved since the massive ice-sheet had broken in the middle of the battle, abruptly putting an end to Glaeba's invasion of Caelum. However, it was still cold, foggy and thoroughly miserable, the day Stellan Desean brought Mathu Debree home.

  The memory pained Stellan more than he could say. The Caelish had embalmed the young king's body and respectfully dressed it according to his rank for the journey across the lake, which was probably more than he deserved. And it didn't do anything to mitigate the tragedy of a life cut so short, so pointlessly.

  Nevertheless, in his own strange way, Mathu had achieved a type of immortality, Stellan realised.

  He'll never grow old. Never feel the ravages of time, he remembered thinking as he supervised the

  Crasii laying out the king's body in state, in preparation for the scores of mourners already lining up outside Herino Palace in the freezing wind.

  Of course, be died making war on a country Glaeba once counted as an ally, Stellan added silently, leaning a little to the left to counteract the right turn the carriage was making. Perhaps, with the spectre of a world ruled by the Tide Lords looming on the horizon, Mathu's folly would eventually become a forgotten footnote in history.

  A footnote that was fading all too fast, Stellan realised with despair. Since returning to Herino as Glaeba's king, Stellan had barely found the time to think, let alone wonder about Mathu's legacy. The coach rocked to a halt, forcing Stellan to turn his attention to more immediate concerns. The funeral was over and done with weeks ago, the country already moving on.

  A moment later, the carriage door opened, and the canine coachman unfolded the step to enable the new King of Glaeba to disembark.

  Stellan still hadn't got used to the idea he was King of Glaeba. The circumstances that had brought him to this pass were too tragic for him to take any pleasure from the title. It seemed like nothing more than an endless responsibility; a weight on his shoulders he didn't know if he was strong enough to bear.

  If there was any joy to be had in kingship, Stellan had yet to find it.

  Tilly's front door opened as he approached. Apparently, they'd been watching for him. Shivering in the brisk night air, he nodded to the doorman, wondering what had happened to the old canine who used to work for Tilly.

  In fact, as the man led Stellan through the house to Tilly's main reception room, he saw little sign of any Crasii slaves, which was an odd state of affairs. Tilly liked her creature comforts — and the creatures who took care of her comforts for her.

  The doorman stopped in the hall outside the parlour, knocked and then opened the door without waiting for an answer. He stood back to allow Stellan access and then closed the door behind him. Tilly was sitting in a large armchair by a roaring fire, wrapped in a warm knitted shawl with a chequered rug thrown over her legs. Her hair was a dull reddish colour and for the first time since Stellan had known her, she looked old.

  'I wasn't sure you'd answer my summons,' she said, holding her hand out to him.

  Stellan crossed the room, took her hand and kissed it with a smile. 'Who else in all the land would dare to so summarily send for their king, my lady?'

  'You didn't have to come, you know,' she said, pointing to the large armchair opposite. 'You could have ordered me to attend you.'

  Stellan took the offered seat, still smiling. 'How could I refuse your summons? You said it was important.'

  'Aye, and you'll have not heard that phrase a thousand times in the past few weeks, either, I suppose?'

  Stellan shrugged, settling into the comfortable chair and relaxing a little for the first time in weeks. 'Important i
s a relative sort of concept, these days. I deem you important, Tilly. So here I am.'

  The old lady's eyes narrowed. 'You didn't used to deem me so important, your majesty. What changed your mind?'

  Stellan hesitated before he shrugged and said, 'An immortal named Declan Hawkes.'

  Tilly didn't look surprised. She studied him in the firelight for a time, as if debating something within herself. 'How much do you know?'

  'More than I ever wanted to,' Stellan told her with heartfelt honesty.

  Tilly spared him a thin smile. 'Could you be a little more specific?'

  'I know who the immortals are, if that's what you're asking. I know about the Cabal and your role in their governance. I don't pretend to understand what these immortals are up to, but I do know who they are. And I've seen enough of them to know that we should be very, very afraid of them.'

  'You do understand that both Caelum and Glaeba are lost to them, don't you?' Tilly asked, searching his face for his reaction.

  Stellan nodded. 'My hope is to mitigate the damage as much as I can. To be honest, I lie awake at night wondering if I'm a hero or a traitor.'

  'I suspect it will matter little in the long run. Chances are good there'll be nobody left to protect or betray if the Tide Lords follow their usual pattern.'

  Stellan sighed. 'And to think, Arkady used to invite you to the palace to cheer us up.'

  'She's alive, you know,' Tilly told him.

  He was both amazed and relieved by the news. And puzzled as to how she might know of his wife's fate. 'How could you possibly have news of Arkady?'

  'Declan told me.'

  'You've seen him since the battle, then?' He was surprised Tilly was taking the news about Hawkes so calmly. Given her role as the Guardian of the Lore, learning one of her proteges had effectively joined the other side could not have been easy for her to digest.

  Tilly appeared more than accepting of it; she seemed almost fatalistic about it. The old lady smiled wanly. 'There's a certain poetic irony to it, don't you think? Finding one's heir apparent is the scion of one's enemies.'

  'Poetic irony?' Stellan said, raising his brow curiously. 'I could think of a few other, less-genteel ways of describing it.'

  'Life never turns out the way we think it will, Stellan,' she said, looking older than he ever remembered. 'This also happens — incidentally — to be the reason I requested an audience with you.'

  'To share your wisdom about fate?' 'To ask a favour of you.'

  He smiled, glad there was something useful he might do as king. 'You only have to ask, Tilly. You know that.'

  Tilly's smile faded. 'You don't know what the favour is.'

  'I'm sure, if it's for you, it will be a worthwhile cause.'

  The old woman nodded. 'Worthwhile? Absolutely. But it's not for me, Stellan. It's for every living mortal on Amyrantha.'

  'A worthwhile cause indeed,' he agreed. 'What would you have me do? Declare the Tide Lords outlaw? Ban the use of Tide magic? Issue a decree telling them to behave themselves?'

  'Actually, I'd like you to help us stop them destroying Amyrantha.'

  Stellan's smile widened. 'So, it's only a small favour then?'

  Tilly was not amused. 'I'm glad you're finding some humour in the situation.'

  'I'm sorry,' he said, forcing away his smile. 'How can I help?'

  'The Immortal Prince, Cayal —'

  'Yes,' Stellan interrupted. 'I've met him.'

  'Then you probably know he's suicidal?'

  'He told Arkady as much when she first went to interview him.'

  'Well, he's a little more determined than we thought and he has allies gathering to his cause. Specifically, the Tide Lord known as Lukys, a man who until recently was posing as a member of the Cabal.' Tilly's expression didn't alter but he could hear the pain such an admission cost her in the slight tremor of her voice.

  'I see ...'

  'I very much doubt that you do, Stellan. According to Declan, to kill an immortal one needs to open a rift,

  a portal to another world — he claims — that will allow the Tide Lords to access a vastly greater magical force than is available to them on the Tide in this world alone. They need this magic to restore one of their own to human form. As a result of this, the immortals — or at least some of them — intend to leave Amyrantha through that portal.' 'Isn't that a good thing?'

  'It would be,' Tilly agreed, 'if the process of closing the rift after they step through it isn't going to tear this world to pieces as it snaps shut.'

  Stellan had difficulty imagining such a force — a force so powerful it was capable of destroying a world. 'Do you know this for a fact, Tilly, or are you just speculating?'

  She shrugged, her face shadowed and grim in the firelight. 'Declan seems reasonably certain. But even if he isn't, can we afford to ignore the possibility?'

  'But how can we stop them? Even with Declan Hawkes on our side, that's still only one immortal against a score of them.'

  Tilly nodded. 'And it takes a Tide Lord to stop a Tide Lord. That's where you come in.'

  'What do you expect me to do?' he asked, more than a little concerned by the notion that she believed him capable of doing anything to stop a Tide-wielding immortal from doing exactly as he pleased, let alone halt Amyrantha's destruction. 'I'm no hero. Tides, when it gets down to it, all I am is a diplomat, Tilly. And a very reluctant king. I barely have the power to rule Glaeba. I haven't the power to order anybody else to do anything.'

  'No, but you have the ear of Tryan and the Empress of the Five Realms. Declan needs their help to stop Cayal, Lukys, Kentravyon, Elyssa and the other immortals they've gathered to their cause in Jelidia. Opening this rift requires a number of Tide Lords working in concert. It will take as many Tide Lords

  working in concert to stop them. You are going to have to arrange a meeting between the warring parties, Stellan. And somehow, you're going to have to make them hammer out an agreement that will stop the other Tide Lords and save Amyrantha.'

  Stellan stared at her, aghast. 'You want me to hammer out an agreement between who? Declan and Tryan? Syrolee and her family? Who else?'

  'The Imperator of Torlenia, for one.'

  Stellan looked at her blankly. 'What's he got to do with this?'

  'While you were hiding in the mountains, the young Imperator of Torlenia was taken ill. He emerged from his sick bed several weeks later, a changed man. So changed he now bears a striking resemblance to the immortal, Brynden.'

  Stellan shook his head in amazement. 'Tides, is there no nation on Amyrantha they've not staked a claim on yet?'

  'A few,' Tilly said. 'But that's probably because we have more nations than Tide Lords, rather than lack of ambition on their part.'

  Stellan could no longer sit still. He climbed to his feet and began to pace the small rug in front of the fire. 'How am I supposed to do this, Tilly? Why would they even listen to me?'

  'Because that's your unique talent, Stellan. You're a diplomat. You may well be the only man on Amyrantha capable of bringing these people to the negotiating table, working out an agreement between them and motivating them to take action before the Tide peaks and Amyrantha is destroyed.'

  He shook his head, but he wasn't sure if he was denying her compliment or simply dumbfounded by the dire nature of the problem. 'I'm flattered by your faith in me, but it's sadly misplaced, I fear. I don't even have proof that this plan you say will destroy Amyrantha is real. I'm assuming Declan isn't here to

  back you up, otherwise he'd be sitting here with us now, and he could help explain it to his immortal brethren. Diplomacy is all about credibility, Tilly. One cannot negotiate from a position of strength when one can't prove they have the authority, moral or otherwise, to seal the deal.'

  Tilly nodded. 'I know. I have someone who will help you. Declan is already on his way to Torlenia to speak to Brynden, but there is still one man in Glaeba who can vouch for this. One man capable of convincing Tryan and Syrolee of the urgency of your pa
ct — provided you can get them to the table. With Declan talking to Brynden — assuming our newest immortal is successful in his attempt to secure the cooperation of the Lord of Reckoning and his consort — it should be a small matter to get the lesser immortals to join the cause.'

  'Who is there?' Stellan asked, still shaking his head. There was no man he could think of with the authority to make a Tide Lord listen to him about the dangers of opening this rift. 'To bring Tryan to heel, you would need another Tide ...'

  His voice trailed off as the answer came to him before Tilly even had a chance to explain. 'Tides ... No. You cannot mean ...'

  By her sympathetic look, Tilly understood his pain, but she wasn't going to let it stop her doing what needed to be done. 'You know yourself there is no other way, Stellan, otherwise you wouldn't be looking so pale right now.'

  He shook his head. 'He declared war on them, Tilly. Tryan isn't going to listen to a word he has to say.'

  'Granted,' the old lady conceded. 'Not unless you intercede on his behalf and smooth the way for the discussion.'

  'I'd almost rather see Amyrantha destroyed,' he said bitterly, 'than face that lying, cheating little bastard again.'

  'That's a pity, Stellan, it really is,' Tilly said with a sigh. 'And it pains me to do this, but your tender feelings are not a consideration.'

  'It pains you to do what?'

  Tilly reached for the small bell resting on the table beside her chair. It tinkled musically for a moment. Even before the chimes had faded, the door opened. It appeared the doorman had been waiting for his cue.

  'My lady?'

  'Would you ask our other guest to join us, Ceeby?' Tilly replied.

  That was all the warning Stellan got; just a fraction of a second to control his anger. An eye-blink to compose his features and turn to face the man who stepped into the room looking exactly as he had several months ago when Stellan had last seen him, the day he came to torment him in Herino Prison.

  He didn't even have the decency to look contrite.

  But the new Duke of Lebec would never know how much his presence pained Stellan. The new King of Glaeba was a man expert in hiding his true feelings. So Stellan smiled urbanely, as if they were nothing more than acquaintances brought together by chance.