The Iron Altar Series Box Set One: Books 1 to 3

by Casey Lea

  “Tssss,” Amber hissed, but instantly regretted her response and stroked Sparrow's limp fingers in apology. I'm sorry, dear one. But you know well enough how my only indulgence in love ended.

  He was charming and you... were young. We all make mistakes-

  “And with luck learn from them,” Amber snapped and her fronds carried the same reprimand. “Love is not an option.” She breathed in sharply and Sparrow winced when her hand tightened around his. She abruptly loosened her grip and leaned over her companion in quick remorse. “Sparrow, sweet, I'm so sorry. So sorry and still a fool. Such attitude to you is unacceptable.”

  Hormones, little sister.

  A laugh caught in Amber's throat. No excuses, baby brother. I'm sorry. I'm also a self-pitying fool. I've had love in all my lives, because I've had you. She choked again, but managed to keep the pain inside. “You and a million picnics.”

  Eight million three hundred thousand and... ah, one picnics, Sparrow corrected, making Amber laugh outright. Was he being facetious, or had he actually kept count? She could always ask, but then she would lose the game. Oh. Tonight was no time for games. They were part of the past. Tonight she was losing everything.

  “So many picnics,” Amber whispered, “but only one picnic basket. How did you keep that ratty old thing going? It must have been remade more often than us.” She hunched closer to his still form, unable to resist one final appeal. “Please, will you try to live again? Will you use my crystal shards?”

  The elderly kres's seamed eyes flew open. No. If they still offer rebirth they must be... for you. You know that. Know it.

  Sparrow's eyes closed again and his head lolled toward Amber, while each breath rasped in his throat. She closed her eyes too.

  “I need you. I love you,” Amber whispered and forced herself to look at the person who had been the one constant in all her lives. His lids rose slowly so he could gaze at her too.

  You can continue and you will. I just wish I could have made the sacrifice for you. I carry the old genes too. I could have died on the altar instead.

  Amber sat up, moving back from Sparrow, deeply offended that he would suggest such a thing. I wasn’t raised to let others pay for my mistakes. The fault was mine and I’m not immoral enough to use my baby brother so. How could you think it?

  He regarded her sadly and she leaned forward again.

  Why must you carry every burden alone? he asked.

  Amber almost smiled at that. You think so well of me I hate to disillusion you, but the only burdens I lift are mine and thoroughly deserved.

  On that we must disagree. I’m so sorry to leave you, but I know you can do it. Stop the Devourer. Save them all.

  “I’ll try.” Amber paused, forced to contemplate an impossible future. “But how?”

  She waited quietly, patiently, confident that his answer would offer comfort and lift her heart. Perhaps he’d suggest a dating service, or time spent in bars. Something that would give her the chance to roll her eyes. She sat in silence while he stared at her unblinking, but no answer came. It never would. Instead a drone rose from the golden bracelet hanging loosely around his furrowed wrist. Its flat hum announced his death with mechanical precision.

  Amber's hand tightened to clutch at Sparrow's frail fingers. She held them hard, trying to grasp more, but there was nothing. She hauled him closer as if she could drag him up, back over the brink of some cliff, but his head flopped into her lap.

  She crouched closer still to cradle his limp form. He was gone. Really gone. She couldn't believe it. How could he leave her now? It was too soon. Far too soon. She was still a child. How could it just end, after so many thousands of years? She had lost more than someone she loved. She had lost a planet, a continent... the earth beneath her feet.

  Amber bent further, trying to lift Sparrow into her embrace. He flopped awkwardly again and a keening cry escaped her. He was so heavy. Why didn't he help her? He always helped. Her hands curled into claws, gripping him tight while she sat quite still. Her new world was dark and terribly empty. It stayed that way for a long time.

  People arrived of course. They filled the room behind her, shuffling into his quarters like lost sheep. Amber ignored them all. Someone bent over her and asked if she was alright, which would have been funny if any laughter had remained in her at all. Equally foolish words followed, disjointed scraps of speech that were totally inadequate.

  “A wonderful person”.... “Inspired leader”....”'A sad, sad day”....

  There was no need to listen closer and she made no effort to respond. What was the point? Nobody had anything important to say. Let them all disappear too. Amber was careless of the world around her, until a hand landed gently on her shoulder.

  “The Leader has passed,” a hushed voice intoned, “long life to the Leader.” Amber looked up slowly and frowned, but the female touching her was staring at the BGP staff who crowded close. She was an older kres with graying hair and wore the turquoise and gold headdress of the Senior Keeper of Genealogies. Amber had never seen her before.

  The stranger looked gravely down at her, and she suddenly felt very tousled. She straightened and tugged at her sleep gown, but the Keeper turned away to address the room again. “When beloved Lord Sparrow entered this physical crisis our Seniors convened to find a successor.” She lowered her head and clasped her hands. “It was my great Honor to be chosen. I flew from Shearwater to Kresynt with all haste.”

  The murmurs in the room faded and the gathered kres exchanged glances and furtive thoughts. They consulted for several seconds, before every figure dipped in a deep curtsy or bow, then sank to one knee. Amber was the only one who remained unmoved.

  “Thank you all,” the new leader said and bowed her head solemnly. “I am most touched by your welcome. You may call me Lady Cygnet, or Leader of course. I wish to offer reverence for the great Lord Sparrow. You may return for his body when I call. Dismissed.”

  There was a more subdued murmur and shuffling of feet as the acolytes and agents filed from the room. In less than a minute only Amber and the interloper remained.

  Lady Cygnet turned toward the bed with a sweep of skirts, but she ignored Sparrow and stared at Amber instead. The older lady stepped closer until her heavy hem brushed over Amber's feet and she could look straight into her eyes. Amber made an effort to focus on the new Leader, but everything was a blur and she let her eyes slide away.

  Cygnet tapped a foot in annoyance, standing repeatedly on Amber's toes, but the pain hardly registered. Amber was scarcely aware of anything anymore, not even her grief. It was infinitely better that way.

  “Poor child,” the Lady purred and Amber's eyes jerked into focus. Cygnet's expression was concerned and her fronds sent genuine grief. “You must feel his loss greatly.”

  Amber sighed inwardly at such a statement of the obvious and drifted off again. The new leader snapped her fingers right under Amber’s nose, but she scarcely blinked. Cygnet no longer looked sympathetic. She looked... well, who cared how she looked?

  “Pay attention, child. Sparrow was a great person who will be missed by all, but we have issues to deal with.”

  Amber's brow furrowed and she tried to concentrate. “Issues?”

  “Indeed and don't play the innocent with me. Your pretense of a grief struck girl wastes all our time. I know exactly who you are.”

  Amber's mouth jerked into a crooked smile that felt raw on her face. She looked up and Cygnet stepped back. “You know who I am? That's a relief, for I surely don't. Enlighten me. Please.”

  The new leader of the BGP recovered herself enough to swish forward again, invading Amber's personal space. “You're the great-great-grandniece of past leader Lady Amber Grace. You're named for her and your family bought you a place in the BGP. You then enticed the ageing Lord Sparrow into becoming your mentor and presumably more.”

  Amber's whole body jerked at that and the tang of blood filled her mouth. She must have bitten her tongue, but the pain was bracin
g. It dragged her back to the present. “Oh, he was more. Much more, but never what you imply. Choose your next words most carefully.”

  “I pick all my words with care, especially these. Let us be clear. You will never rule the BGP while I live. What happens after my tenure is another issue. One I may well help you with, if you accept my reign. Will you help me now, if I aid you later?”

  “If I wanted to rule the BGP, why would I wait?”

  “You won't find enough votes now. You're too young.”

  Amber choked and shook her head. “You’re truly wrong with that, but why such interest? Why try to gain my support if I'm too young to matter? Why bother with me at all?”

  Lady Cygnet took a step back and shrugged a hand. “I care for all my followers and I want this transition to go smooth.”

  Amber's head tilted and her mouth stretched in that strange way again. “How odd. I thought there was no laughter left in me, but you I find amusing. You try to intimidate me as if I was a rival, while claiming that I'm not. Such a claim is clearly false, but what power could I possibly have? Ah, Sparrow left a proxy vote in his will. For me.”

  “I found such in his files, but he was most likely senile.”

  “He was not, as many will attest.”

  “You failed to come forward-”

  “But I still could. Declare myself a candidate and demand a revote.”

  Cygnet turned away and her gown turned with her, flicking Amber's calves before its owner stalked off. “Tsskk, this situation is beyond galling. Why would Sparrow try to pass his mantle to such a child?”

  Amber looked sharply down at Sparrow's corpse. Why indeed? Why would he recommend her for a position he knew she didn't want? “To provoke me,” she realized. “He wanted you to confront me, to offer battle, to pull me from my grief.” Her voice faded and she rocked forward once more, bowed over her brother's body. She took his hand again, but it was already cold. She shuddered and Cygnet moved to sit beside her. The bed rocked and a warm arm was draped over her shoulders.

  “I am truly sorry. Sparrow first showed me how to trace genetic histories against claimed family lines. He ignited my passion for the mystery of true parentage. His death lessens us all. I see now that you truly grieve for him and I'll give you some time for that.”

  Lady Cygnet rose and started to back away, but Amber grasped for her heavy brocade skirt. “Wait, please.” She forced herself to look up from the body and study the older female. “I've no wish to be leader and I told Sparrow such. You have my support.”

  Cygnet's eyebrows rose, but then she dipped in a quick curtsy. “My thanks, Amber. I will do my utmost for the Beuro and for you.”

  “Good, because this is a trade. I'll support your leadership if you make me senior of data gathering.”

  Seamed lips pursed and the older lady considered the offer. “You wish to be our chief spy?”

  “Indeed. I want to collate all the information the BGP has and then direct further collection. I've made an organic spy fleck that will be most useful.”

  “An organic fleck? I’ve not heard of such a thing.”

  “No,” Amber whispered, “I developed it with Sparrow. We made pollen grains that act together to resonate and so pass on information. They appear totally natural to most scans.”

  Cygnet broadcast admiration, followed by satisfaction. “Gather information...”

  “Apply logic,” Amber added, completing one of Sparrow's favorite sayings. “Do I have the job?”

  “You certain-sure do. Just, don't be caught. The BGP won't risk a confrontation with the Arck to try to save you. You'd be on your own.”

  “Understood, but hold no fear. I intend to stay away from the palace and far, far away from Sharpeye.”

  7

  A New Sanctuary

  Six Years Later – Alliance 13

  Nikareon hurried through the dusty streets of Paradise and wondered about the human penchant for irony when naming their planets. This ball of rock was so far from central systems it wouldn't even be considered part of the Rim. Its biosphere remained limited, despite the introduction of crops, while green plants were seen only in food shelters or gardens. He wondered whether the religious splinter group from Earth that had established this colony had found what they wanted. Their little world had certainly remained obscure and that suited Nik very well. He was running out of safe havens, thanks to the Alliance.

  He nodded to a bearded gentleman, but the man blanched, before crossing to the other side of the dirt road. Nik dropped his gaze and sure enough, two ovals of light reflected from the packed earth of the pavement. His eyes were glowing again. He needed to stop thinking about his pursuers in public, but after running for over a decade how could he? He concentrated on his pulse instead, slowing it, but at that moment his com vibrated against his wrist. The smooth metal of that computer tightened too, in unmistakable alarm. Unbelievable. He'd been found again. Already.

  Nik scowled and the pavement in front of his feet lit up. He kept looking down, scanning his wrist visual which had turned to silver and black, but still managed to show a huge ship approaching little Paradise. He groaned in recognition. He hadn't just been found by the Alliance, but by his own personal nemesis, Freefall. He cursed his bad luck and walked faster.

  When he'd heard that Free and Clearwing had divorced seven years ago he'd rejoiced. Staggered back in amazement first, but then rejoiced. It seemed some kres couples were not full bonded by their ridiculous marriage ceremony. It had also seemed likely that the newly promoted Admiral would be distracted, first by grief and then by the need to find a new mate. Unfortunately, it had soon become obvious that Freefall's main source of distraction was going to be Nikareon. Has the borridge nothing better to do with his time? I'll make an ugly-ass trophy for his wall.

  The silver pool on the pavement at his feet was rapidly spreading. Before Nik could blink the world around him had lost all color and turned to black and silver too. Drak. His eyes must really be lighting up if he’d slipped into full Beserk vision. Where was his control?

  Footsteps ahead made Nik look up and a knife slid from his com to his palm, but the threat was impossible to see properly. Whoever was approaching was now simply a silhouette that he had no way of recognizing. Any features were lost and so was he. His world had gone, along with normal sight. He was trapped in a place of shadowy targets, where everyone looked identical.

  The vague shape grew more layered when he closed on it. Pulsing smudges appeared where his eyes scanned for weak points. Red blurs covered the easiest kill zones of brain and heart, while orange appeared over the lungs, abdomen and spine. A dull violet throbbed at the groin and joints, where a blow could cripple, while the bones appeared as yellow bracing. His enhanced vision was useful in battle, but frustrating at any other time. It was also the reason why Beserks were such a risk. Once they lost normal sight they could attack anyone by mistake. Even the people they loved most.

  Nik pushed that thought away and the memory that tried to come with it. The approaching stranger had stopped and the Beserk gripped his knife more tightly. No, a strike to incapacitate would be better. This lone passer-by was unlikely to be hostile. Nik flipped his blade back into storage and closed on the target, but the tweet began to back away, before turning and running down the road. Little threat indeed.

  Nik scanned his surroundings, but the street was empty, although someone was hiding behind a low stone wall to one side. The crouching figure was obvious, the vivid colors of its vulnerable spots leaching through the stone, but it stayed hunched and trembling, so Nikareon ignored it and walked on. By the time he reached the solid mud house he had rented less than three weeks ago his eyesight had returned to normal. He could see that its plastered walls were already flushed to darker gold by the evening sun. At least Freefall would have to search the town in darkness.

  Nik keyed in a code and opened a surprisingly thick gate to step into the shade of the porch. Scans stabbed at him from three sides and he turne
d slowly to offer complete coverage, before placing his thumb in the door lock. That dull metal orifice melted to flow around his digit, locking it in place. He stood quietly, ignoring the brief pain when his thumb was pierced and the blood compared to his file. There was a hum of acceptance and the metal grew pliable again, letting him reclaim his thumb.

  The door opened and Nik ducked when he entered, so that the suspended wooden beam swung past his head. He crossed the entry, programmed the trap to reset and entered a sunken living room. The chamber was large, but sparsely furnished. Ten years on the run had depleted even Nikareon's wealth. These days he saved what remained of his money for more important things than furniture. He hesitated at that thought and stopped to listen. The house was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. It sounded as if there was no-one home at all.

  Hackles tried to rise on the back of Nik’s neck, making his blonde hair stir, but instead of tensing, the Beserk grew more relaxed at the prospect of battle. His mind slipped into a state of perfect readiness and data from all his senses flowed through it with smooth precision. The only flaw was a sudden burning in his gut, the first hint of fury, gathering to flood his body in response to any extreme threat. He breathed deep, ignoring his treacherous physiology as well as the silent house and walked through the living room to a sun gallery, which had become the dining room. The kids had left the lights on. Again.

  Or they'd been eating and something had disturbed them. His hands trembled at the thought and the flame within burned hotter, but he pushed on. Toward the walled garden. At the door an energy field pulled goosebumps from his flesh, checking his identity before letting him move outside. He entered a sheltered oasis, standing between the four wings of the building so that there was no external access. Nik breathed deeply and strolled down three stairs into the sunken garden.

  The red sun that Paradise circled was now low in the sky ahead of him, turning the trees and flowers to a confusing mosaic of shadow and bloody haze. The central pond was dark and still, apart from a line of glare running from the sun to Nikareon. He paused to study the artfully crafted wilderness ahead. Was he being paranoid again? The Grace had only just arrived in the system, so why did it feel like he was already surrounded?