Silver Road (The Shifting Tides Book 2)

by James Maxwell

  She glanced at Liana, seeing shadows under her friend’s eyes and scratches on her limbs. Like herself, Liana was exhausted, thirsty, and half starved.

  Liana suddenly looked up. She cocked her head to the side as her eyes became unfocused.

  ‘What is it?’ Chloe hissed.

  Liana gave her a horrified stare. ‘Horses. I can sense horses.’

  Chloe turned back the way they’d come, and then she saw them.

  Twelve riders crested a long ridge, rising into view in a line. Chloe’s heart beat out of time when she saw their bare chests and furs. These weren’t Xanthian scouts, they were barbarians, natives of the northern wilds. Spying Chloe and Liana, they spurred their mounts into an immediate gallop, riding their horses in the way only men born to the saddle could do, recklessly racing down the steep hillside. The hunters cried out to one another, high-pitched calls that sent shivers racing along her spine. They dug in their heels and slapped their hands again and again at the flanks of their mounts.

  ‘What do they want with us?’ Liana cried.

  Frozen with fear, Chloe suddenly recognized the leader, a lean warrior whose face was darkened by a tattoo, with a topknot leaving the rest of his head bare.

  ‘Nikolas sent them. Run!’

  Chloe summoned her last reserves of strength. Sprinting, her eyes wide with terror, she looked back over her shoulder. Seeing the tribesmen gaining rapidly, she focused every thought on running as the ground began to climb. Ahead was another hill, taller than the last, a long escarpment with its highest point marked out by a field of boulders.

  The rumble of horse hooves on hard ground sounded behind them. The slope climbed and made it still more difficult to keep up the pace. Gravel slipped under Chloe and Liana’s feet, skittering downhill. They were heading to the field of boulders at the hill’s summit, though when they reached it there would be no salvation, the tribesmen would simply surround the peak, dismount, and approach with weapons ready.

  Despite the difficulty of the ascent, Chloe again glanced behind her. The tribesmen rode side by side, close enough that as the slope took its toll she could see the faces of individual warriors. Their eyes were narrowed, their dark expressions making her wonder what their orders were. Several of the tribesmen had circles of bones around their necks. A hunter lifted his bow, but the leader with the topknot called out and the man lowered his weapon. The leader said something else and they drew up, beginning to dismount.

  Spurred by fear, Liana was now ahead, climbing with all four limbs, desperate to reach the false sense of safety at the ridge’s highest point. The hill’s crown was littered with large rocks, high above the plain. The area would make for a defensible resting place, provided one wasn’t already under pursuit: there was an all-encompassing view of the surrounding area, the boulders would screen a fire, and there was no reason to visit other than to make camp.

  As Chloe followed Liana in a stumbling run, struggling to suck in lungfuls of air, Liana suddenly cried out.

  A solitary man climbed up onto a tall rock ahead. He was shielding his eyes from the rays of the setting sun, waving at Chloe and Liana, urging them on. A round-faced old man in a dirty brown robe, he was unarmed aside from the long staff clutched in his right hand.

  Liana tripped over, sprawling on the dirt and gravel. As Chloe helped her up and carried her friend past the newcomer, she gained an impression of a pug nose and white beard. After only a few more steps Liana fell again, and with the stranger now between them and their pursuers, Chloe knew that neither of them could run any farther. Her gaze went back the way they’d come. Silhouetted in the afternoon light, she watched the back of the strange old man as he continued to hold his staff high.

  She saw the hunters come into view. Their horses left behind, the cold-faced men of the north climbed remorselessly forward with bows in hand, arrows nocked, moving swiftly. Their eyes were on the old man with the staff, who stood on his rock as if challenging them, and Chloe saw that his hand gripped the staff close to the top, where an odd fork of reddish metal, the size of her hand, crowned the pole. If it was a weapon, it was unlike anything she’d seen before.

  The leader with the topknot glanced at his companions. His eyes flickered to Chloe and Liana before returning to the old man. Seeing that the two women weren’t going anywhere, he nonchalantly lifted his bow.

  Chloe heard a creak as he nocked an arrow and slowly drew the string to his ear.

  But the old man stood his ground. Chloe could see only his back, but with his legs astride and staff held high he appeared to be unmindful of the arrow that would soon plunge into his chest. She held her breath. The warrior’s eyes narrowed.

  Suddenly the old man slammed the base of his staff down onto the rock. At the moment the staff struck, he cried out as if calling on the gods to help him.

  A heartbeat later a piercing sound split the air. It was the cry of a thousand shrieking birds, all screeching as one.

  Chloe clapped her hands over her eardrums. Liana fell to her knees and put her hands on both sides of her head, her face contorted with pain. But the effect on the tribesmen was greater still.

  Their mouths opened in inaudible screams as their hands went over their ears. Weapons fell; the drawn arrow flew harmlessly into the sky as every one of the hunters collapsed to the ground. They began rolling back and forth, writhing and kicking. Chloe continued to watch the leader with the topknot, seeing blood stream from his ears. She could see from his movements that he wasn’t dead, but his grimace of torment told her that he wished he was.

  The terrible sound projected from the staff lasted for an eternity, a high-pitched warbling that pulsed with a head-splitting rhythm. Chloe crouched down at Liana’s side, seeing that her friend was in almost as much pain as the hunters.

  Then, as quickly as it had come, the cacophony faded.

  The old man turned around, the expression on his face calm and confident. Gathering his robe, he climbed down from the tall rock and approached the two awestruck travelers.

  Chloe straightened. She looked from the stranger to the dozen incapacitated hunters, strong men all of them. As she regarded the staff-wielding old man, he returned her look with an appraising look of his own. His deep-set eyes traveled up and down, examining her from head to toe. She saw now that he was plump, with thinning hair and a ragged beard, and that the fingers gripped around his staff were short and thick.

  There was something wild about his eyes, but his voice was friendly when he spoke. ‘My name is Vikram. Come with me. My home is nearby. Let me take you there.’ He gave Chloe an earnest look. ‘You will both be safe.’

  Vikram led them for hours, but the pace he set was an easy one. Chloe gave him their names and told a story somewhat close to the truth, saying they had been heading from Phalesia to Tanus when an army approached. Fearful of the soldiers, they’d hidden in the northern hills but had been discovered by the band of hunters.

  ‘If there’s some way I can repay you . . .’ she said. ‘You saved our lives.’

  He waved a hand. ‘So you are Phalesian?’ he asked, his gaze encompassing them both.

  Chloe saw him taking note of her copper medallion and its symbol of Aeris, as well as Liana’s unadorned bronze necklace. Liana’s tunic was plain whereas Chloe’s chiton was thick and well made. Chloe’s pale skin and near-black hair, cascading almost to her waist, marked her out as Galean, but Liana’s wild red hair, while not exactly rare, was certainly uncommon.

  ‘Both Phalesian,’ Chloe said. ‘Liana is my maid.’ Liana shot Chloe a dark look but Chloe, seeing Vikram’s attention diverted, shook her head slightly.

  Vikram shrugged. ‘I know little about Phalesia other than its name. But it seems to me that two women should not be traveling unaccompanied. Where are your protectors?’

  ‘Our escort . . . They tried to lead off the horsemen. I . . . I don’t know where they are now.’

  Until she knew more about Vikram, Chloe decided against mentioning more about her
self, or even seeing if he would help them get back to the Phalesian Way. They needed food, water, rest, and information.

  She also needed to learn about the strange power he’d called upon to defeat the hunters. Zachary had said that some of the magic of Aleuthea might still survive. She glanced at Vikram, who had just saved their lives with nothing but a staff. She wondered if he would share his story.

  ‘Here.’ Vikram handed a skin of water to Liana, who drank gratefully before passing it to Chloe. ‘So your guards . . . Might they still be looking for you?’

  ‘I hope so,’ Chloe said. She drank and then changed the subject. ‘You live out here?’

  ‘I do,’ he said with a smile. ‘I prefer it “out here”, as you call it.’

  ‘You don’t get lonely?’ Chloe asked.

  ‘My wife is long departed but I am known among the local tribes. I have fire at night and music for my soul. And perhaps one day I will find another to share the sun and the wind, the rivers and the valleys.’ He swept his arm grandly over the vista, as if claiming the plain and its rows of windswept hills for himself.

  ‘What were you doing when we found you?’

  ‘Contemplating the world. There is a special energy in some places, and I often explore and meditate.’ He glanced at Chloe, seeing that she was perplexed. ‘To meditate is to delve into the corners of one’s mind. I must hone my powers of concentration the way a swordsman does his blade. I am a sorcerer, a true magus.’

  Chloe’s gaze now went to the metal fork that topped his staff. She was surprised to see a greenish discoloration on the copper. Recognizing copper tarnish, she frowned. When she’d last seen it, she could have sworn the metal was bright and lustrous.

  ‘A true magus?’

  He turned his deep-set eyes on her and something in his glance made Chloe feel that she shouldn’t press farther. ‘You are both tired.’ He smiled, revealing yellowed teeth. ‘Explanations can wait.’

  The sun set behind them as they traveled; it grew dark and there was still no sign of Vikram’s home. But then, as they ascended to the summit of yet another hill, Chloe frowned when she saw a crude village ahead.

  It was a small settlement of wooden huts laid haphazardly, black shapes that dotted the low plain near a winding river. She wouldn’t have seen it at all if it weren’t for the dozens of campfires, yellow lights that dimmed and brightened like stars. Liana cast Chloe a fearful look.

  ‘The village of Pao,’ Vikram said. ‘Please, Chloe, Liana, you have nothing to fear. Your pursuers were Han. The Pao are gentle folk. And we will not be passing near.’ He pointed with his staff. ‘Do you see the cliff above the village, on the right-hand side? We’ll have to do some climbing I’m afraid, but that is where I have my home.’

  Following a winding path, they pressed on in silence, footsteps guided by a rising crescent moon. When they reached the top of the cliff Chloe almost stopped in her tracks when she saw a hulking structure ahead, crowning the high ground like a citadel guarding the village below.

  The sprawling villa revealed in the moonlight was once far grander than Chloe’s home in Phalesia. Each stone block was fitted perfectly to a companion and decorated with carved impressions of flowers, and it was built in an elaborate style, somehow alien. But it had fallen into disrepair, and while the main body was still in use, the cross section at the far end had crumbled into ruin. Though the columns holding up the ceiling were wide, some leaned at odd angles and dozens of roof tiles were missing.

  Trees and rambling gardens enclosed the single-storied structure; once again Chloe gained an impression that the state of the surrounds had once been truly beautiful but had fallen into neglect. A wide stone basin filled with clear water stood outside the main entrance that Vikram led them toward.

  ‘Welcome to my home,’ Vikram said. ‘You are safe here from the villagers – not only are they primitive folk, foragers rather than hunters, they believe I am a holy man and keep their distance. Please, I want you to feel comfortable here. Stay as long as you wish.’

  Vikram led them up a short series of smooth steps and through a wide entrance, framed by tall columns. The inviting glow of oil lamps beckoned to a cavernous interior, with a floor covered by woven mats and items of furniture that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Phalesia. Stools and low tables surrounded a central hearth. Urns and ewers rested against the walls. Even the high ceiling was decorated with fluting scrollwork.

  ‘Let me show you where you can bathe. I will serve food in a short while. Rest. Regain your strength, I insist.’

  Chloe and Liana both thanked him again, and, looking pleased, with a wave of his hand, the old man in the loose robe led the way.

  31

  The long, lean dragon looked back over his shoulder. He snarled, racing through the sky, wings sweeping up and down vigorously. The glossy, more youthful dragon pursuing roared in response, his own wings pulled in as he followed his quarry. Far below, the land flashed past in a blur.

  The two silver-scaled dragons reached the edge of the mountainous escarpment that encircled Cinder Fen and continued, the foremost putting his every effort into speed, his pursuer unrelenting. Reaching the sandy white beach that surrounded the peninsula, they traveled onward and over the sea, passing turquoise shallows until they were above the deeper water.

  Both had angular, wedge-shaped heads with sharp ridges behind the almond-shaped eyes, but where the fleeing creature had protruding teeth that were yellowed with age, the chasing dragon’s teeth were glossy and white. They were evenly matched in size, as large as the wooden warships the humans used to wage war across the sea, but the first was sleeker, with outstretched veined wings that matched the length of his body, whereas the second was more muscular, with shorter, more powerful limbs.

  They sped over the sea, steadily losing height to skim a stone’s throw above the waves of the open ocean. Blue water became darker as the distance from land increased; the Maltherean Sea here was deep. The hunter roared a challenge again at his quarry. The fleeing dragon cast a glance back and shrieked in defiance.

  Suddenly the foremost dragon dove for the water. At the same instant he blurred. Mist enveloped him from head to tail as he reached the surface. In a heartbeat he changed from a dragon to a serpent, shrinking in girth, doubling in length. He plunged into the sea, seeking to escape in a new environment, to use his greater age and experience to confound his younger foe.

  But, without hesitation, Eiric followed.

  Banishing the wild thoughts of flying and command of the open sky, he imagined the sea as his domain, summoning sensations of wetness and a longing to undulate and writhe. He dived down to the circle of ripples left behind by Jonas’s descent and at the instant that he struck the water he changed.

  Serpent now hunted serpent, with a long paddle-tailed leviathan pursued by a shorter, wider foe. Bubbles burst, confusing vision, and water swirled in eddies left behind by the thrust of each creature’s extremity at the sea.

  Jonas traveled deep, heading for the safety of darkness, and Eiric knew that if he couldn’t increase his speed he would lose him in the depths. Calling on his last reserves of strength, he focused on his rage, using it to feed the wild side within.

  The distance between the two serpents narrowed. Even as the breath screamed in Eiric’s chest, shrieking at him to return to the surface, still they descended. He opened his mouth and gnashed his teeth together, almost biting down on its quarry’s tail.

  Eiric . . . Was that his name?

  The wildness grew, threatening to burst inside him. The thrill of the chase began to overwhelm all other thoughts. He was an animal born to the sea; he belonged here. When he caught his prey he would bite down and taste blood, before tearing away silver-scaled flesh and devouring chunks of red meat. He reveled in the power of his body. This form was natural; it was who he was.

  Eiric! My name is Eiric!

  He dug deep to bring to the surface memories of his father, Zachary, and his mother, Aella. He reme
mbered being raised in the Wilds, taught to hunt by his father but also shown how to lead. Zachary had survived the trials of the Battle of Phalesia that took Liana’s parents. Even during the darkest times, Eiric had thought nothing could disturb his father’s equanimity. But then Jonas betrayed them to Triton. Eiric lost his mother, and he’d also learned what could destroy his father’s nature when he’d stood fast against so many trials.

  Jonas deserved to pay.

  Just as Eiric thought his chest would burst, Jonas finally gave up his mad descent. Twisting in the water, he shot directly for the surface. His body flashed past Eiric’s eyes, curling as he changed his trajectory. Eiric’s jaws opened wide and he felt his teeth clamp down, but the slippery scales were tough, and his prey escaped his bite.

  The two undulating leviathans sped for the lighter water, traveling vertically, with one directly behind the other. Their tails both lashed at the sea with the strength of mountains behind them, pushing hard enough that when they burst to the surface each shot into the air. An instant later Jonas had shifted back to dragon form and was flying. Focusing on thoughts of wings and sky, Eiric faltered, even as his serpentine body launched itself upward, sailing through the sky.

  He almost didn’t make it. The grip of the sea was nearly too great; he was too attached to the shape.

  But with a snarl and a renewed surge of rage he focused on everything his father had taught him. He forced himself to see the ocean as a foreign environment, confining and dangerous, a place where he couldn’t breathe. The sky was natural. Wings would propel him forward. He was a dragon.

  He felt the familiar sensation of change and then a moment later he was a winged creature once more. Roaring in victory, fighting down the insanity threatening to take him with every beat of his wings, he saw his quarry gaining height and added a burst of speed.

  The two dragons now flew back toward Cinder Fen, climbing higher as the looming escarpment approached. They flashed over the strip of crystalline shore and then the jagged range of mountains was below them.