The Book of Never: Volumes 1-5

by Ashley Capes

  “We’ll empty it then flip it over,” Luis said.

  “We might be pushed over the edge even so,” Never answered.

  “Many have made the trip,” Elina said as she passed them, laden with her own burden. She transferred her bags and pack to carry them before her, stepping carefully through the puddles.

  Never sighed and started to unload the oars, feeding them to Elina, who’d returned to carry them beyond the fall. Then he looked to Luis. “I’ll take the end – you’re too slender, I’ve more body weight so I’ll act as a better anchor,” he said.

  “Once I’m around, I’ll try not to swing it too far into the falls.”

  “Thanks.”

  Again Never lifted the boat onto his shoulder, only this time he rested it over his head and gripped the rower’s bench, his other hand up around the hull. “Ready.”

  Luis started into the turn, moving steadily. The younger man skirted the edge, unavoidably directing the rear toward the flow and Never grunted as the water hit, causing his knee to buckle. He kept his balance, cursing as a torrent of water drenched waist and leg, but managed to keep a hold of the boat, pushing out of the flow.

  “Never?” the spearman called.

  “I’m fine,” Never said. “Now someone else get up here and take a turn at having this mongrel dig into your shoulder.”

  Chapter 6.

  The noon sun barely reached the grass when they finally stepped down to the bottom of the waterfall, heading past the crashing white water and mist of what was no longer the Carene but now the River Rinsa.

  Elina took them to an established campsite, complete with long stone slabs arranged around a deep fire pit that had been charred by generations of soot and ash. There they ate quickly, Elina’s impatience clear in her pacing and the speed with which she re-packed the boat.

  Never did not mention that no amount of haste would make a difference if the king was already dead. She’d know it anyway. Instead, he helped her manoeuvre the boat into the current and let the stone walls rise around them.

  Gone were the green tendrils of the willows, now it was only dark vines and sheer banks with few likely spaces for camp and long shadows courtesy of a hidden sun. The stone hills were crumbling into the water, wind-worn carvings of domed trees fading across the walls.

  “The symbol of the First Kings,” Elina said when she noticed him studying them. “Servants of the Amouni.”

  “It seems signs continue to align.”

  “Hadn’t you already agreed to –”

  He waved a hand. “I didn’t mean that. I meant more, how fortuitous that we met.”

  “You would have found the proper clues without me.”

  “Perhaps.” Never resumed rowing.

  “We’ll reach the Bluestone Inn before evening and then it’s only three days to the Capital.”

  “And once we reach City-Sedrin?”

  “Directly to the palace. The sooner I know the truth of King Noak’s illness the sooner I can figure out what to do from there.”

  “Slower, Elina.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t rush when we get there. Take some time to assess the mood of the place. Learn what the people on the street know.”

  She turned away. Was it in shame? But when she turned back, her face was not flushed. “Of course. I was rushing, wasn’t I?”

  “No harm out here,” he said.

  By the time the blocky Bluestone Inn slid into view, rising from stone docks beneath the high walls, the sun was nearly gone from the sky and the river had taken on a blue-shadow. From where he leant against the tiller, Luis working the oar, there was a deep blue hue to the rock. It was warmed only by yellow light that pooled beneath large windows on the ground floor and smaller holes in upper stories. The inn bore the vague look of a boot emerging from a mountain. He chuckled.

  “What’s amusing?” Elina asked.

  “The Bluestone looks like a shoe, don’t you think?”

  She frowned at the inn. “No.”

  Never laughed again – she’d seen the resemblance, no doubt about it.

  Luis was grinning. “I don’t care what it looks like, so long as it serves something other than fish and hardbread.”

  Elina snorted. “Of course – the Bluestone is supplemented by City-Sedrin. Innkeeper Oksar is renowned for his beef, pepper and roasted potatoes.”

  “Right now that sounds so good I’d eat it out of a boot,” Luis said.

  Never nodded. Variety – it certainly kept life bearable.

  When the boat thumped against the pier he might have been last out, but he was first to the door, leaving Elina to tie off the boat and slipping past Luis with a grin.

  The warmth of the inn struck him as he opened the door, as not only a cheery fire burned at the rear of the large common room, but braziers set at intervals between the windows glowed too. Maybe a little much during summer, but the welcome made up for the heat. Scattered across long benches were travellers in long cloaks, fisherman with their beards and even a pair of Marlosi drinking in one of the corners. The men were well-travelled. Deserters? Hard to say.

  And not his business.

  Instead, he found a quiet-seeming table near a brazier and waved for a serving girl – who gave him a nod from where she was handing out mugs from a tray.

  Luis and Elina had joined him by the time the girl arrived, giving them all a smile. She was younger than he’d first thought, freckles crossing her nose. “Welcome to the Bluestone, travellers,” she said.

  Elina ordered for them – the famous beef, pepper and potatoes which, when it arrived, lived up to expectation. Or maybe he was simply hungry – and that was Oksar’s secret? Never sat back, nursing his drink while the brazier dried the last of the damp from his clothing.

  A painting on the wall opposite caught his eye – that of a giant dragonfly attacking an enormous fish. It had burst free from a deep pool on a river, but his interest quickly shifted to the man sitting beneath the image.

  Smoke rose from a pipe between his teeth, the only distinguishable feature about him. Yet, surely this was the man he’d seen in Togan? Coincidence or something else? A high collar hid the man’s throat, where scars might have been concealed. Never leant forward, as if merely placing his mug down. “There’s a man at the table behind you, Luis,” he said. “Tell me, either of you, is he familiar?”

  Luis turned to wave for the serving girl and Elina leant back into the shadow and glanced over her own drink – a glass of dark wine. Luis shook his head. “I don’t remember him.”

  But Elina lowered her voice yet further. “He nodded to me in Togan.”

  Never made a fist. “Exactly. Our fisherman-friend?”

  “We find out tonight,” Elina said. “Take our rooms but once the last light is out we converge upon his room. Oksar will give us the room number and key if I ask.”

  Never raised an eyebrow. “You two sound... friendly.”

  “He’s the prince’s cousin.”

  “Ah.”

  Luis grinned but it faded. “So what does pipe-man want?”

  “Hard to say,” Never said. “Hanik; not a young man but plain-looking. Appears unarmed, hardly seems to be a warrior.”

  “We can ask him ourselves soon enough,” Elina said.

  When the serving girl reappeared Never ordered another drink – this one of water, and soon after, sought his room. Elina and Luis joined him, Luis catching an arm when Never stumbled on his way to the bar.

  “Never?”

  “Hush. I’m drunk,” he said. “Let’s lure our friend into a false sense of confidence.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” Elina muttered before arranging their rooms with the man at the bar. “And I’d like to see Oksar, give him my room number? There is some urgency.”

  The fellow nodded, t
urned to a wall lined with hooks, lifted a key and handed it over.

  Elina led them up a set of stairs and then a second set, taking a door at the end of a corridor. Moonlight fell through the glass of a square window, the nearest lamp some of the way back along the passage.

  She let them inside, fumbling a moment before lighting a lamp.

  Inside, no windows but three beds occupied three walls, each with blankets and pillows of feathers and chests at their feet. Never headed for the nearest bed and lay across it. “I’ll have this one.”

  “I’m not very tired,” Luis said. He paused at a water barrel. “I can watch first, if you wish?”

  Elina took the second bed. “Oksar probably has to finish in the kitchen but he’ll knock three times.”

  Never turned from the light and closed his eyes.

  *

  He woke to three knocks on wood.

  Damn. It’d been a good sleep. He rose, throwing off a blanket. Luis was admitting a spindly man dressed in an apron. His bald head shone in the lamplight. Elina went immediately to him, hugging the man and stepping back. “Oksar, it is good to see you.”

  “And you, Ellie. Who are your friends?”

  “Never is slow to wake and Luis let you in. They’re helping me.”

  Oksar smiled to them. “Welcome both of you.”

  Never expressed his thanks even as he wondered which task Oksar understood them to be assisting Elina. The king and the rebels? Or the Amouni?

  The innkeeper handed her a key. “On this very floor, nearest the stair.”

  “Thank you, Oksar. Have you seen him before?”

  “Not that I recall. Be careful, won’t you?”

  “We will.”

  He turned to leave but she caught his arm, her hand near-to encircling his whole wrist. “What about the king?”

  His expression fell. “No reliable word, I’m afraid. They say it was a foreigner, that’s all we know here.”

  “But is he alive?”

  “Nothing official to say he isn’t.”

  Elina nodded and saw him out, leaning against the door a moment. She twirled the key between her fingers as she did. “If we didn’t need the rest I’d keep going.”

  “No one would think less of you for needing to rest,” Luis said. “Least of all, I’m willing to bet, your king.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Let’s deal with the pipe-smoker first,” Never said.

  Elina led them into the darkened corridor. Never drew one of his knives, the slight rasp echoed as Luis followed suit. His spear he left in the room and Elina’s free hand rested on her dagger at her belt as she fitted key to lock.

  “Spread out,” she whispered then turned the key and leapt inside.

  Never followed on her heels, angling left, finding himself in an empty room. Naught but a made bed and moonlight pouring in from an open window. He stalked to the window.

  Outside waited only a sheer rock wall and a drop to the pier. A cool breeze stirred something on the sill. Pipe ash?

  “How is my room?” a voice enquired.

  Never spun.

  The regular-looking man waited in the corridor, pipe in hand.

  “Who are you? Why are you following us?” Elina demanded from where she stood in the centre of the room.

  “Consider me but a cog.” He clapped his hands together. A wall of grey smoke and ash rose in the doorway, too thick to see through. It billowed forward. Luis gasped and Elina fell back.

  “Quick.” Never turned for the window but a similar wall of smoke had risen – from the ashes he’d seen before? It swirled closer. What magic was this?

  Never crouched, waving the others down. “We have to get out of here before –” he broke off in a fit of coughing. Everything tasted of ash. Smoke stung his eyes and he crawled toward the window. If he could pass through...

  But his limbs were already so heavy. He let out a garbled curse, dragging himself along the polished wooden floor. A soft thud, then another followed. Elina and Luis.

  Darkness.

  Chapter 7.

  Never woke with a start.

  Morning light crept beneath heavy curtains in a small room of stone – still the Bluestone Inn? Or elsewhere? He drew in a rasping breath – raw throat. And when he tried to move... ropes tightened around his chest and wrists.

  Bound to a chair.

  Nothing really beat the classics when it came to interrogating a prisoner.

  As if on cue, a dark figure rose from beside the window, pulling the curtain open. Sunlight blasted Never’s face. He squinted against it, a growl rising from his tender throat. “That’s just childish,” he said.

  The silhouette chuckled. “Perhaps.”

  Pipe smoke – almost sweet but acrid. “Who are you? What do you want, pipe-man?”

  “Call me Cog – that will suffice.”

  “Very well, Cog. Where are my friends?” Never asked.

  “Elsewhere.”

  Never strained against his bonds then blinked down at wedges of cloth, arranged between the forearms of his skin and even shins and knees.

  “Yes,” the man said. “I’m taking precautions, just as your brother suggested. I am aware of the gift you and he share and I wouldn’t want you to rub your skin raw and have you bleeding. Just in case. And I will tell you, your friends are alive.”

  Snow? Snow had arranged the capture? “Bah! You already have all the advantages. And what does my brother want?”

  The man leant forward, his plain features resolving from the light and offering a glimpse of the angry scarring on his neck. His smile was weary. “What do any of us wish for? Answers.”

  Never groaned. “If I must be captured again, can’t you do away with the rhetoric and the posturing?”

  “Captured again?”

  “Attempted capture. Thugs with poison darts – some of your work, I suppose?”

  “Not I, perhaps your brother?”

  “On the river then. You followed us.”

  “Of course. My master wished for me to watch and wait for you.”

  “Master?” Never had to swallow before he could speak again. “Listen, don’t let his ego fool you.”

  “Fool? No. You and he are the living link between man and God. I know my place. As I have already explained, I am a mere cog in a greater machine – it is of comfort, truly.”

  Never frowned. Living link? Grand, but hardly true. The Amouni were powerful, yes, but that didn’t equate a link to the Gods... did it? No. Foolishness. This fellow had been blinded by whatever lies Snow had spun.

  His captor raised a cup of water. Never drank, the cool liquid a blessing. “I do not believe that. Nor that Snow would be fool enough to delude himself.”

  The man sighed. “He said you would not be pleased to hear from him... after the business in the White Wood.”

  A fair assessment. “So he sent you to speak for him? He couldn’t come himself?”

  “He is seeing to certain... necessities. I am to extend an offer.”

  “What?”

  “The answers you seek. Truth about your heritage.”

  “That I have already discovered.”

  Cog raised an eyebrow. “All?”

  “Enough to find my way to the rest.”

  “Truth about your father.”

  Never bit off his next words – whatever they’d been. “If he’s lying –”

  “No lies. And he asks that you join him in Sedrin’s Temple of Jyan when you arrive in the capital.”

  “Should I bring my chair?”

  Cog gathered up a pack and slung it over his shoulder. “Your friends will be along soon enough.”

  “Who are you?” Never asked. “That wall of smoke – what magic was that?”

  The man paused at the door. “I a
m what he made me.”

  And then Cog was gone.

  Never slumped in the chair, turning his head from the sun. It warmed his neck and sweat soon formed. He cursed then used his entire body to wrench the chair away from the window, scraping and bouncing to a halt in a strip of shade. One more half-turn and he could face the door too.

  Then he began to rub the ropes that tied his wrists against the arm of the chair.

  Due to the way his chest and arms were bound, he’d made little progress when the door finally burst open at noon.

  Elina and Luis stood in the doorway, weapons held ready.

  Never straightened. “Who wants to untie me?” He raised an eyebrow. “No fighting now.”

  Elina snorted and Luis walked forward with a grin, producing a blade and cutting through the ropes binding Never’s arms. “Didn’t think we’d find you alive.”

  “Cog was a strange man. Where are we?”

  “In an old watchtower above the Bluestone,” Elina said. “Oksar doesn’t man it anymore.”

  “Cog?” Luis asked.

  “That’s what he called himself – and it doesn’t make sense to me either,” Never said. And what the man claimed was disturbing. I am what he made me. Snow had given Cog his magic? How – it wasn’t possible.

  For humans.

  Never stood when Luis finished the last of the bindings. “Thank you both. Let’s return to the river, catch up to Cog.”

  “Catch up?”

  “I assume he’s heading to City-Sedrin.” Never rubbed some feeling back into his limbs and stepped out into the sunshine. A short path crossed a tiny plateau overlooking the chimney of the inn below, and the deep blue ribbon of River Rinsa where it cut through the stone hills. To the west, lay their backtrail and a distant hint of the Long Falls above the green of the forest.

  Toward the east waited more grey hills, quickly swallowing up the river, and beyond them in turn, the pale purple peaks of the Folhan Mountains, before which lay City-Sedrin, invisible for now.