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

by Casey Lea

  He finally looked up at that and his eyes slowly focused on her. “No. This was an accident. It was Blizzard. We can explain.”

  The butterfly stopped dragging her free hand through her tangled hair in disbelief. “Explain to Sharpeye that his son is dead? By your blade? And survive that explanation? Just go.”

  “What of you?”

  “I can bribe this one easy enough.” She paused to shake Blizzard by the hair and he offered no resistance. “He won't wish to be caught beside Hawk's body and the Arck has many enemies. We'll blame one of them. Now go.”

  Falkyn staggered backward, each foot tripping over the other. He collided with the edge of the door and managed to turn away, but still didn't run. His pace was achingly slow and he leaned against the corridor wall, looking back over his shoulder. How annoying. Did the bustwing have no survival instinct?

  “Run,” she ordered and he finally stopped staring like a stunned tweet. He turned away and pushed himself upright, before charging down the passage. He was gone in an instant and his footsteps faded soon after.

  The butterfly looked down at her captive and idly watched rainbows ripple across the blade of her knife. It was already pressed to Blizzard's throat. It would be so easy to cut deeper. Just a little pressure and the last true witness would be gone. Everyone would blame Nightwing's mongrel son, with no path left back to her.

  Blizzard's adam’s apple bobbed beside the weapon, so that it snagged in his skin and blood blossomed around its tip. “Do it,” he whispered and the butterfly jerked at such a suggestion, flicking the end of the blade free from his throat. How did he always know what she was thinking?

  “Do it. If you need to kill me to feel safe then do it, but know that I would never betray you, love. This deed was done for you, but it's done by me. Should the Arck ever stumble on the truth I could then be used as a shield for you.”

  “You'd take full blame?” she demanded and let the knife fall.

  Blizzard rose and stepped away, lifting his leather collar to hide the blood, before turning back to face her. He shook his head slowly, biting his lower lip while his mind conveyed hurt. “How can you ask, dearest Goldown? I would never betray my beloved wife.” His brows creased, jerking up in the middle to form two quizzical peaks. “Although, if you kill me you no longer have to marry me. Perhaps that’s a temptation? I've removed your competition for the throne as I swore, but that leaves you with an obligation. One you may be pleased to be free of.”

  “Do you think I shirk my bargains? Do you call me Honorless?”

  His warm brown eyes widened. “Never, Serenity. But you are above the ties of others and free to do as you think best. What will that be?”

  Goldown ripped her mask aside to study Blizzard more openly. Broken wings fluttered to the ground and she saw a brief reflection of her chill grey eyes as they fell, before returning her gaze to Blizzard. Her jaw set while she considered her options, but then her mouth twitched, before managing a smile. “It appears my bargain was a win-and-win. Marrying you seems an acceptable payment.”

  “Yes.” Blizzard leapt forward, almost skewering himself on the blade Goldown was still holding and that made them both laugh before he swept her into his arms. Their mouths met and she kissed him just as ardently as he kissed her. Their embrace was interrupted by a groan. Goldown pulled away with an annoyed hiss and turned to where her brother lay dying. The boy had recovered consciousness thanks to the regen pads in his wound and he stared at her, his blood flecked features slack with shock.

  “Goldie,” Hawkeye croaked and Goldown's chest tightened unexpectedly. She dropped to her brother's side and began feeding her own regen strips into his wound without further thought.

  “All will be well,” she promised, but air wheezed from his injury in an abortive laugh.

  Doubt it, his fronds sent faintly. Goldie... why?

  You stole what should have been mine.

  Hawkeye's chest made another accordion gasp. The throne? I never even wished for it.

  Goldown leaned over him, cutting off the last of the light from the palace so that her brother sank into shadow. Do you think you could have held the throne from me? Not for a day. No. You know what you stole. Papa. His time, his energy. His love. They should all have been mine.

  Goldown's hand snaked out to jab her com into the pool of regeneration holding Hawkeye's heart together. Its order was instantly obeyed and each regen strip shut down. His body arched, forcing her back, before collapsing with a splash. His blood had pooled in the hollow and she retreated further. She turned away to face Blizzard, but he was busy sabotaging the video feed for the ledge.

  She stood quivering, while her hands rose to touch unexpected wetness on her cheeks. She pulled her fingers back to study them and the liquid was clear, some sort of water. She stared at it, trying to make sense of such a strange thing. Tears? Was she crying? She almost wiped the alien moisture away, but then thought better of it.

  “Now would be perfect,” Goldown called to her fiancé. “Midnight's nearly on us. Let me know when you've narrowed the recording to show Hawk being stabbed by Hell-kin alone and be sure to lose the next part too. Give me the cue when you're ready to record again and I'll bathe in blood and tears.”

  Goldown moved back to settle by the body and her gaze strayed to her brother's pale face. It blurred and more of the odd wetness slid down her cheeks. So strange. He looked impossibly young and a long abandoned memory returned. A little boy, just able to walk, tottering straight to her and climbing to her lap. Chubby fingers tangling in her hair and a lisping voice, 'pritty, pritty'. Goldown's heart clenched again and she buried her face in her hands, just as Blizzard tried to connect her com to her father's.

  “I can't send the feed, Beloved. It's being blocked.”

  Goldown's shoulders tightened and she looked up from her cupped hands. “Does someone know what we did?”

  “Unlikely or the alarm would already be sounded and we'd be spread in your father's dungeons. It's probably just the security-plus they run on such nights. Our feed has likely been queued behind other input. Don't fear, my com has palace power and will soon push our alarm call through. Be patient and think sad thoughts.”

  20

  Hunted

  Amber came to, staring at a ceiling draped in peaflock feathers. Her head hurt worse than the last time she was born. She groaned and closed her eyes, hoping very hard that she had at least had a good time the night before. No, something about that felt wrong. She never took the risk of actually enjoying life, plus she was filled by an unusual urgency. She knew she had to flee - right now - but her memory was still short-circuited by streamers of flashing light. Ouch. She lay still and tried to relax while her com repaired her brain strain. The shimmering lines against her eyelids began to disappear and abruptly she remembered. Her eyes flew wide and she shot upright.

  Jace, she demanded and the chick's response was instant.

  It's kay. I got through to Mom. My parents will be back on board our ship before the unmasking and ready to lift soon after midnight. I told them I was safe in Free's sliver.

  Amber hesitated before swinging her legs over the edge of her feathered nest. There was an odd note in the boy's last thought. It didn't feel like dishonesty, but some trace of deception was there. Where exactly is the sliver?

  There was no response, so she checked her spy fleck again. It placed both Jace and Misty in the hidden sliver all right, but their tiny ship was not heading to the port. Instead it was hovering over the royal gardens. What the hail? What were those chicks thinking? They should be rocketing into deep space, not hanging around the Arck's home. What sort of plan was that? Realization hit. A noble and selfless one, of course. The boy was just like his father.

  Your chance of saving Falkyn is slim, she sent and then had to lie down again. No, this was useless. She had no time to be weak. Telepathy was exhausting, but being tired was irrelevant right now. She made it to her feet and swayed there for a second. Her com caut
ioned her to rest, but somehow her body steadied when she told it to. It seemed determination could be stronger than science.

  Amber closed her eyes and focused on Jace's mind again, but she had no chance to try further contact. The first stroke of midnight stopped her. Ancient bells tolled together and their vibrations shook the stone under her. Once, twice, thrice they clanged, making her stagger. Time was short. The Arck was about to begin the Big Reveal and he was bound to notice that the Alliance ambassadors were missing-

  The fourth chime never sounded, or if it did, no one heard it. Instead a scream filled the palace. A shriek of despair that was amplified by all the power of every palace generator. The cry felled Amber like an axe. She crashed to her knees, with her hands clasped over her ears, but still the awful sound stunned her. It was impossible to stand even if she’d wanted to, but she never wanted to move again. She was crying and for once didn't care. This was grief and pain magnified. A bereft father had used all of his considerable power to spread his loss planet wide and everyone on Kresynt suffered. Their minds screamed, along with Amber's and the Arck's.

  This time Amber stayed conscious, but wished she had fainted. It would have been easier. Instead she was left fighting a foreign grief that spread all too easily through her own familiar pain. She managed to stay on all fours, biting her lip until blood dripped to the floor. All she could do was endure, rocking in place, until a memory finally surfaced to save her. That memory was her brother. His life offered images to fight the pain, flashes of picnics and a promise. She had to live and to do that she needed to go. She wasn’t about to be stopped by a caterwauling chick.

  Amber unclenched her jaw and gagged when she tasted her own blood, but ignored the reaction, to slowly stand. She staggered back to the passage, but her shuffling feet were silent. She thought the Arck's wild shriek had stopped, although it was hard to tell. Her ears still rang, but otherwise there was an eerie quiet. It must be over. Surely no throat could continue a cry like that. If she was shattered, then what state was Sharpeye in? She peered down the corridor to the ballroom and the heaped bodies there looked like the aftermath of some ghastly massacre. A few were beginning to stir, but most remained still and there was no sign of the bereaved father. There’d be no unmasking tonight and the Arck was clearly distracted from any plans he might have had.

  Amber shook her head and winced. The pain was intense and her com didn't seem to be aiding her at all. She looked carefully down at her wrist and the carvings that covered her bracelet were dark and lifeless. Her com had been damped, its power covered by the palace generators. She was on her own. She looked up slowly. It was possible sirens were sounding - certainly the alarm lights of a complete lockdown were flashing - but there was still only a thick silence.

  Amber took a deep breath and regretted it, but her focus was somewhere else. She searched for Jace's mind without the help of her spy fleck. It was an impossible task of course. Making an unaided contact over such distance? Even her old self could never have managed it.

  I am not my old self. I am more. JACE.

  The connection was instant. What?

  Amber closed her eyes in relief, but her reply was just as quick. It's too late for your brother. Flee while you still can.

  Sorry. I got a message to him and he's heading for the gardens. Anyway, we've already landed in a hedge.

  In a hedge?

  My landing might have had a slight bit of crash about it. The Arck sure can howl. It's very distracting when you're flying.

  Can the ship take off?

  Yeah. In a minute, maybe two. I'm patching her up now, so we might as well wait for Fal.

  Drakkit. Amber's head began to pound again and she realized it was thumping in time to her footsteps. She was running, but not away. Inexplicably she was sprinting toward the gardens. What was she thinking? She really had no idea, but it no longer mattered. She simply ran.

  The ball had promised to be a wild ride, but now it had clear as ice plunged right off the rails. She had no way of tracking Falkyn with her com overridden by palace security and from the continued silence she was still profoundly deaf. How the hail could she even find him? Hopefully he had the sense and good luck to make it to the gardens.

  Amber's breathing was ragged, but her feet pounded on, over carpet and tiles and stone. She finally staggered into the series of atriums that ran beside the gardens, but they were dark and silent. The row of pillared rooms was lit only by the moons. Their silver light made her think of Beserks and she stumbled to a halt. The world was very still. The hunt must be concentrated on the seaward side of the palace where Hawkeye was killed, or perhaps they already had Falkyn. It was possible he was in the Arck’s dungeon right now.

  Amber gulped for air and leaned back against a column, which grabbed her. Hands closed over her mouth and dragged her round the back of the pillar. She gave a muffled shriek and struck out with nails and dainty slippers. She drew blood and her attacker winced, but tightened his grip. He was horribly strong even without com power and Amber swore against his hand.

  "Be still," Falkyn panted in her ear. "I've no wish to hurt you."

  Amber relaxed at once. It seemed she had found her quarry, along with her hearing. The boy slipped an arm more firmly around her throat and started to squeeze. She jerked in fresh horror, windmilling every limb she had and managed to stamp on his foot.

  "Ouch. Please try to relax. I just have to knock you out."

  No, no, no, no annoyance/frustration/panic I can't save the idiot child if he knocks me out. Oh gods, what if Sharpeye finds me?

  Falkyn released her so abruptly she dropped to the ground. Her world kept spinning, but the darkness lifted slightly until the silver moonlight returned. She gulped for air once more and Falkyn crouched beside her.

  "I'm sorry. But who the hail are you? And why do you need to stay away from the Arck?"

  Amber tried to focus on the chick and hide her surprise. Mental communication usually required an effort. How had he managed to hear her private thoughts?

  "Don't know, but they were clear plus. Can you truly help me? And do you want to? You don't understand how dangerous it is. I haven't even told you what happened."

  True, but the Arck's reaction was hard to miss.

  Falkyn's head dropped to rest on his knees and Amber touched his back reassuringly.

  I was watching and I've got proof you didn't kill Hawkeye, but you've still got to survive to present it. If we show it now it won't save you. Your blade still did the deed and on this night Sharpeye will see you dead. Right now, you need to run. Take this, Amber ordered, fishing in her cleavage.

  Falkyn's head lifted and he leaned forward to look closer. Is this about to get interesting?

  She pushed him back on his heels and found herself laughing. I would think you've had enough of such interest today.

  The boy had the sense to look abashed and her smile softened. She pulled at the chain around her neck and an amber jewel, caught in a globe of metallic lace, emerged from her bodice. It rose into the light, spinning slowly so that sparks spiraled around the room. The chick actually smiled at that.

  Wow.

  Truly. Amber carefully closed her hand around the ornament, then pushed two fingers into the metal basket, wincing slightly when the crystal within sliced them both. Blood ran down her wrist and Falkyn hissed, reaching out to her, but she waved him away. It's fine. I'm used to it. Somewhat. She shuffled the ornament in her injured hand until the shards within were coated in both her blood and her DNA, then tightened her grip. She concentrated until a soft glow painted their sanctuary in gold and shadow. The light suddenly swelled to blind them both and then the gem went dark.

  Amber dropped it at once, holding onto the chain so that it started swinging again, to drip red across the floor. She manipulated the metal bauble more carefully this time. It looked like a lacy orange, made of three separate wedges, each of which held a sliver of crystal. One of the gold wedges finally broke away from the globe a
nd she gripped a third of her necklace without further injury. A single shard gleamed with its own light inside that golden prison.

  A ripping noise made Amber jump to her feet and Hawk rose with her, to press a pad of cloth torn from his coveralls against her bleeding hand. She flinched, but managed not to pull away.

  That needs pressure applied, he thought calmly, and regen as soon as possible. Stitches if you can't find such.

  Thanks, but don't be concerned. It's a clean cut and will heal soon enough. I want you to take this. The crystal is an energy sink and I’ve reset its matrix to absorb concussive energy. It’ll be some help out there.

  No.

  Amber looked up from saying a silent farewell to one of the last remaining pieces of her jewel. Well. This chick had surprised her more on one afternoon than anyone had managed in years. Why 'no'?

  Her mind added firm insistence at a deeper level, but he countered it easily.

  Apology/gratitude/determination I don't know exactly what that jewelry is, but it's your protection. You should keep it.

  Amber was intrigued, but worked hard to keep that emotion from her fronds. Genuine interest was something she tried to avoid. Like passion, it was likely to lead to danger. Your need is more desperate than mine, she urged the boy again. Trust me. I intend to live a quiet and safe life from this moment on. Anyway, I've still got two more. Take it and run. I insist. And with her deeper mind she did.

  This time it worked. Falkyn reached automatically for the necklace fragment. His arm stopped in mid-air when he realized he'd been mentally pushed, but Amber shoved the woven metal and the gem it held into his hand.

  RUN.

  And finally Falkyn did. His fist closed around the wedge of gold and he levered himself over the windowsill with his other arm to jump from the room. He landed lightly and Amber ran to the open frame behind him. She clutched it tight and her cut palm lanced pain up her arm, but she scarcely noticed. Every part of her was with Falkyn while he dodged from bushes to trees.