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

by Casey Lea

  Fortunately the hall offered plenty. Every tier had been filled with chairs jammed together like crooked teeth. Members of the noble Thousand families were still queuing for seats and using their coms to levitate into any gap they could find. The lack of rows made it impossible to get there any other way.

  Amber barely had legroom, but she did have plenty of neighbours, all avidly discussing the situation. She ordered her com to enhance her hearing and settled to study her shoes, while her ears and fronds picked up what they could.

  Unfortunately, the buzz rising to the high ceiling was uniform and predictable. Everyone was in party mode at the prospect of a new ruler. No one knew anything about the vote, but they all wanted to guess. Amber sighed and lifted her head, to almost lose it.

  Someone blasted past so fast he was a blur. She cried out and an apology was flung back, but the stranger didn’t stop. He rose all the way to the ceiling and the canopied seat of the leaders of clan Gizzard.

  Amber glared after him, but when he stopped and hovered she realized he wore a courier’s uniform. He had news and his rudeness showed it was urgent. Her fronds bushed wide and her com focused on the messenger and the lady he was whispering to.

  Amber recognized Sub-Tetrark Gizzard, who leaned forward in her seat and gushed with mental delight. Had this messenger been sent with news of the vote? Amber closed her eyes, listening hard.

  “Attempted murder?” the old lady squealed. “The princess throttled, but arrested too? A coup by some utter unknown and Goldown driven into labor? Please tell me you haven't been drinking, Prim?”

  “Never during my duty, lady. Do you wish to hear of the incest first?”

  The Tetrark squealed like a pig in a trough. “Incest too?” She clapped her hands together and finally noticed that everyone was staring at her. “Do get my com feed,” she encouraged them. “I’ll soon know everything and I’ll be the first to tell.”

  Amber turned away, chewing her lower lip and cursing gossip. The stories coming from the voting room were clearly ridiculous. She squirmed in her chair and half turned to punch the cushion behind her into submission. What was really taking so long? Most of the Council knew their position on who should inherit long before today. She pounded her cushions again and received a surprised look from the girl beside her. Amber sent an apology and tried to stop fidgeting.

  Around her the nobles continued to chatter and laugh, enjoying the novelty of having seats. Sharpeye had always made everyone stand. She sighed as a premature burst of neon confetti flew across the chamber. Didn't the Thousand understand that their future hung in the balance? These cattle would be back on their feet soon enough if Goldown inherited. The girl beside Amber turned toward her to offer a handful of popped kernels.

  “No. Thank you.” Amber sighed again. The carnival atmosphere was beyond irritating. The most important succession in kres history was about to occur and no one seemed to appreciate that. The difference between Goldown and Wing was night and day, but this lot had been living in the dark so long even a hint of light on the horizon looked like sunrise.

  “Are you certain-sure?” the girl prompted, shaking her box of kernels and staring wide eyed.

  Amber shook her hand and turned away. Her unexpected fame was wearing very thin. Curse every patient who had chosen to release images of her healing them. Soon every movement she had made to help the frostbitten had been recorded. Somehow Amber had become 'the face of rescue'. Now she was trying very hard not to be the grumpy face of rescue.

  A fanfare of whistles and flutes lifted Amber from her guilt. There were more important things than the horribly undeserved praise she kept getting and the choice of who would rule the most powerful, surviving civilization was one.

  Every head turned toward the grand door, which was still grounded in ice. A groan preceded any sign of movement, then the massive slab of carved stone shuddered. It rose slowly, but smoothly, drawn up into a rock wall that was just as old.

  The Royal Speaker appeared, small and insignificant under that lintel, but the strike of his staff was like thunder. “Members of the Thousand, guardians of the people, kneel.” He paused and there was a murmur at the first public appearance of the Speaker since Sharpeye had declared himself arck. The staff crashed into the floor again and everyone dropped to their knees. “Behold the successor to Sharpeye the Shrewd and the thirteenth ruler from his line, Arck Falkyn FarFlight.”

  The Speaker retreated and a new figure entered the hall. Amber blinked at the emperor below. It was so strange. He looked awfully like Falkyn and she could have sworn the Speaker used his name, but that was impossible. He hadn't been one of those chosen as claimants for the throne. How could he win a vote he wasn't even contesting?

  The new Arck's voice rolled around the chamber, deep and resonant and Amber shivered. That was definitely Falkyn. “Please rise, leaders of the kres.” He waited, but only half of the Court made it back to their feet. The rest remained frozen and unsure, crouching awkwardly to whisper together. “My people, you are no doubt surprised by my elevation. Believe me, you cannot be more astonished than I am to receive such an Honor. However, the Council has judged by unanimous decree that I am the closest claimant to the throne.”

  There was another stir that grew as the thousands crowding the room tried to absorb that. Amber struggled with it too. When did the Council ever agree unanimously on anything?

  The Speaker's staff cracked on the floor and she levered herself back into her seat. She looked up to see chromosomes swirling through the air, with portions of magnified DNA twisting past each other. Falkyn's genes were linked to his parents, who were both clearly labeled. The chatter through the chamber grew and everyone craned forward to study their new ruler's credentials.

  Amber ignored the genetic hologram. She'd rebuilt Falkyn and knew his DNA intimately. Instead she sat straight and still, unable to accept the announcement. She simply couldn't believe they'd told him. It was far too harsh. He was so young and he adored Harry, who had just died. Discovering that Goldown was his biological mother must have hurt him terribly. What the hail was Nightwing thinking? Why would he do that? To his own son? For political gain of course. Expediency ruled.

  Amber closed her eyes against such callousness and her hands shook, because she knew what it was to put the end before the means, even when the means was a person. This was her fault and her philosophy, but to see the chicks she loved follow it so well was shocking. She shook her head and opened her eyes in time to see Falkyn's family enter behind him.

  They gazed around the chamber, and Amber made an effort to connect with Wing, but he looked past her without recognition. Freefall followed behind him and did the same. She balled her fists and reminded herself that she was no longer old Lady Grace. She was only Amber and had no power over kres politics anymore.

  Falkyn stalked forward, leading his family deeper as he headed for the throne. It sat in gaudy splendor on the floor at the far end, waiting to be claimed. His expression was calm and confident. However, the throne rose far too soon, while he was still approaching. It was linked to the new Arck's mind, but he had sent it upward too fast, so that it hovered over his head.

  Falkyn stopped in its shadow and turned to face his Court. Smugness oozed from the ranks of Clan BackBeak, but before it could spread Falkyn unclasped his teal cloak. Amber smiled, enjoying their shared secret for a last second, before he shrugged his shoulders and opened his wings.

  There was a collective gasp when they unfolded and he posed for a second, letting his subjects understand what they were seeing. Then he jetted straight up and back. His wings forced him through the air, to land lightly on the throne. There was another moment of stunned silence and then wild applause. Confetti filled the air, while fireworks boomed and crackled outside. Falkyn smiled and nodded, looking around the hall to note reactions.

  Good boy. No- Amber bit her lower lip. There was nothing of the boy about Falkyn anymore. It seemed he truly did carry some part of Sparrow. She cer
tain-sure hoped so, because even a trace of her brother would help with the burden ahead.

  Falkyn sat back in the throne and when the celebrations finally waned, raised his hand for silence. The crowd quieted and leaned forward expectantly.

  “My people, thank you for your enthusiasm. I appreciate it and as Arck I intend to show that appreciation. My first pronouncement is to proclaim a new work-free day. In future cycles Sevday, Week Twenty-two shall be a memorial to the frost and everyone lost to it. I will lead a service of remembrance and we will mourn them together.”

  There was a general murmur of agreement and many minds felt safe enough to send support. Falkyn inclined his head very slightly. “However, this Frostday will also be a holiday of thanks. Every life lost was a tragedy, but this plague could have been far worse. I'm sure we're all grateful that our obedience and unity as an empire saved us from further ravages.”

  Amber had to hide a smile. Every noble in the room was careful to be just as enthusiastic as before, but their wariness had returned. Falkyn's reminder of Sharpeye's curfew and its fortunate outcome was a clear statement that the ruler should always be obeyed. The new Arck had just picked up the reins of empire and they were all wondering how hard he intended to pull on them.

  She suspected they were in for a surprise. Falkyn wasn’t the sort of person to lead by intimidation, or by singling people out. Instead he smiled broadly. “I'm most happy to mark my crowning with the announcement of new negotiations. I hold family shares in the new power block called the Alliance.”

  Falkyn supported an elbow on the arm of his throne so that he could rest his chin on the heel of his hand. He gave Nightwing a disarming smile. “Isn't that correct, Patri?”

  Wing looked startled when all eyes turned to him. “Ah, yes. Of course. You've an equal share with your brothers in our offspring trust.”

  “Excellent. It appears the Alliance has been understandably discreet about its greatest asset.”

  “Falkyn,” Wing protested, but his son's smile grew.

  “Please, Admiral. How long did you think you could hide your discovery of a universal passage?”

  Even Amber gulped at that revelation, while the rest of the crowd was in hysterics. She knew about the passage of course, but Falkyn's casual betrayal of his father had her reeling. From the look on Wing's face he felt the same. He and Darsey swung toward each other, huddling close to confer and their obvious consternation delighted the crowd.

  Oh yes. Falkyn had played that exactly right. The greatest risk to his rule would come from any suspicion that he was simply an Alliance puppet; a cipher controlled by his father. He had just neatly pre-empted such a claim.

  “We will share in this advance,” Falkyn announced and his expression was now implacable. “Kres ships and merchants will have access to single passage markets on the best of terms. The details have yet to be finalized, but a treaty with the Alliance is certain. Our aid ships will also have unfettered access to the Nexus passage and the Empire will do all it can to help those other societies that were weakened by the frost. We will be generous and compassionate to our friends. Do you have any questions, Ambassadors?”

  Wing and Darsey simply gaped at him and the crowd's silent satisfaction filled the room. “Very well. You are dismissed. I will contact you to arrange negotiations. Please enjoy the hospitality of Kresynt until then.”

  “Did you just place us under planet arrest?” Darsey demanded and the room filled with titters.

  Falkyn raised an eyebrow. “Certainly not. Do you wish to leave before aid and mutual support are negotiated?”

  “Ah, no.”

  “Excellent.” Falkyn waved a hand. “Dismissed.”

  Darsey looked like she wanted to say more, a lot more, but Wing had her by the arm and they backed toward the exit together. Zak sniffed loudly, before turning to saunter after them, while Jace raised a hand in farewell. “Later, bro.”

  Misty linked her arm through his and they backed up together, covering exactly the distance required before turning to leave. Their strides were synchronized, while they looked only at each other, and their minds left a sweet haze of devotion in the telepathic ether. Amber felt a twinge of something that definitely wasn’t envy. No, she was probably just wistful.

  She shivered and switched her attention to Falkyn.

  He smiled slightly. “I thought they'd nevertimes go.” There was another wave of titters and he grinned. “So I'm ready to forgive their manner of going.” He settled back in the throne and his smile widened even further to show more of his teeth. He looked unexpectedly like Sharpeye and Amber shivered again. The laughter around her faded, but the Arck's grin gentled. “I do intend to treat my friends generously. So, I invite you all to be my friends. I will accept oaths of fealty now.”

  The room was utterly quiet. Thousands of people sat completely still, holding their thoughts just as silent. Amber alone made a faint squeak, before clamping down on inappropriate laughter. This ceremony usually occurred after a month had passed, during which time the Arck worked hard to win the favor of his Court.

  She sat there, in secret delight, while the holographic proxies of every family in the Thousand settled at Falkyn's feet. When they were all present, everyone in the room rose to repeat the Oath. Amber rose with them and Falkyn's gaze was on her when those gathered spoke together.

  “We pledge fealty to Falkyn FarFlight. We vow to support his reign, be true to his wishes and protect his people. May ice claim us if we break this oath.”

  The Speaker's staff crashed into the floor one final time. “The oath has been spoken and witnessed. Long reign to Arck Falkyn.”

  “Long reign,” they all repeated, many with deafening enthusiasm. At least Sharpeye was an easy act to follow. Unexpected applause began and Falkyn ducked his head in apparent gratitude and humility. He let the clapping continue until his subjects' hands grew raw and there was still no sign of it stopping.

  Falkyn finally looked up, while his fronds sent amazement and gratitude. He raised a hand and within seconds the applause died away. “Thank you all. Your enthusiasm has moved me. If any of you wish to make supplications, I’d advise you to do so soon.”

  There was a ripple of laughter, followed by murmured conversation, but Falkyn let them talk for a minute. He eventually raised a hand again and quiet returned. “I intend to release you shortly and you may all exchange views on the unexpected events of the day. However, I first need to make a vital appointment. My rule will only flourish if I have the best of information and the soundest advice. I therefore request one of my most popular subjects to serve us all as my Prime Advisor.”

  Amber gaped when Falkyn's gaze rose to find her.

  “Doctor Amber Grace of Clan Icarys, will you accept the position of Prime Advisor to the kres Court?”

  The applause was instant and shattering. No one waited to hear her answer. Amber glared, but everyone in the chamber beamed back at her. She turned to look further, searching for the disapproval that should be there, and swaying in a mental tide of adulation. It was enough to make one queasy.

  A transport field tightened around her and she was lifted from her seat. She stared blankly at Falkyn while she was carried to the chamber floor. The throne sank as she approached and reached the ground exactly when she was deposited at its feet.

  Amber stared intently at her new emperor, who was lounging in the oversized monstrosity. His slight smile seemed fixed and he surveyed the room calmly, but his knuckles were pale where he gripped the throne. Were those the whites of his eyes when he glanced past her? Was he actually scared? Impossible. Who could play the role he just had without total confidence?

  Amber belatedly dipped and bent, flowing into a deep curtsy, while Falkyn sat just above her. Her fronds sensed him lean forward, but she had no idea what to say. How could she answer such a request? She felt a flicker of anger and resolved to refuse. He’d put her on the spot and she had no intention of rewarding such thoughtlessness.

 
However, the clapping was still loud and before she could speak, his mind touched hers. Apology /regret /panic. I can't do this without you. Fear /fear /fear.

  You're doing spectacularly well.

  Crash and burn is imminent. Please, Am, I need help. Will you help?

  I'll always help. The thought escaped before Amber could censor it and she bit her lip. What had she just agreed to? She shrugged inwardly. At least this would give her some purpose. She hesitated at that. Was she just trying to keep busy? Trying to forget all the souls she’d killed? Did she deserve such a respite? No, she refused to listen to her inner angels. That would be the path to madness. She rose from her curtsy and inclined her head in gracious acceptance.

  The applause swelled again with real enthusiasm, while Amber's hair writhed in shame. If only they knew. A familiar hand closed on hers and she looked up into eyes as gray as a building storm.

  No guilt, the Arck's mind ordered and Amber dipped her head, though her heart ached at the impossibility of such a command. The ice was an accident. There must be no more suffering because of it. If any guilt is to be carried I’ll bear it. The idea was mine and I pushed you to it.

  Amber started shaking, but he drew her gently to him and bent to kiss her wrist. The applause was joined by enthusiastic cries and Falkyn rose with a wave to the crowd. He settled on the throne again and she climbed the steps surrounding it to claim her place, standing at his left shoulder. The monolithic seat and its attached dais rose majestically.

  “Hail the Prime Advisor,” the Royal Speaker bellowed and the kres cheered in response.

  “Wave,” Falkyn murmured and Amber raised a hand. She tried to stretch her lips, but a smile was beyond her. The best she could do was look grave and gratified. The Arck stopped waving and his hand fell to cover hers where it rested on the back of the throne. His fingers suddenly tensed and he straightened in the throne.

  Amber saw a message tag flashing over his com and anxiously touched a frond to his temple, but felt only joy and relief. Goldown’s labor is over. My daughter’s born.