Flare: The Sunless World Book Two

by Rabia Gale

Its tone darkened. But I—none of us—expected what would happen to the krin in the meantime.

  “Explain,” said Isabella.

  We lost ourselves, said Zacharias.

  “Went mad?” asked Isabella, while at the same time Rafe said, “You became your dark side.”

  Indeed. But before you understand the tragedy of what befell the krin, know and understand what we were before.

  We are not of this disc world of yours. We are born at the bottom of the universe, that place of ka. We flow up with the ka, not to only your world, but to all the worlds of this universe. To discs like this one, to spheres of bronze, to cubes of steel, to worlds that are interlocking rings, and others besides. More than you can imagine.

  “What’s it like?” Rafe asked eagerly. “The place of ka, I mean. The bottom of the universe, from which you and ka generate?”

  Melancholy touched Zacharias’ voice. Alas. It is one of the memories that I cannot grasp. In my dreams only do I catch a glimpse of it. When I reach out to pluck it for mine own, it pops and vanishes. For such soap-bubbles are visions made of.

  It paused again. Despite its penchant for dramatic retellings, Rafe found himself touched. He tried to imagine living through so much history, to be a sojourner so far from home and yet forget his origins, and nearly grew dizzy with the effort.

  “We were talking of this world, though, and the krin upon it,” Isabella reminded them both.

  “Why come up here in the first place?” Rafe asked. “Did you just travel with the flow of ka?”

  It is the way of our kind. We are born in ka and with it we travel to the worlds, to spend the middle of our life with others not of our kind. We teach, we inspire, we judge, we discern, we learn. We attach ourselves to great men and women. We inspire them as they inspire us.

  L’amagio… whispered Max.

  “The kayan?” guessed Rafe. “They called you Kayan-Friend. Was it Renat…? No, of course not.” He shook his head. “It must’ve been Rishtar.” Rishtar, the nearest thing Oakhaven had to a patron kayan.

  Was that his name? Zacharias turned it over in its mind. I remember only the pungent odor of grease and the ring of steel on steel, a laugh as great and glad as the sun and hair the color of fire. Was that Rishtar?

  “Does it matter?” asked Isabella bluntly.

  I… I suppose not, said Zacharias with a surprising hesitation. Still, if he was my friend as the title says, I should like to know his name.

  “Did the krin move on from the worlds?” asked Rafe gently. “You said the middle part of your lives.”

  Yes. After a time, krin change, like caterpillars weaving cocoons around themselves and emerging as butterflies. Zacharias broke its own narrative to ask, with a touch of anxiety, You still have butterflies on this dark world of oil and smoke and metal things?

  “Yes,” said Rafe gravely, if only to keep his lips from smiling at this. “The agri-caves are full of them and other bugs, both pests and not, besides.”

  The canoid pressed itself against Rafe’s leg. Its silent plea for attention was obvious. “And dogs like this one, too.” Rafe bent down to rub its smooth, hard head.

  I have always liked butterflies. Zacharias said this with an air of pleased discovery. Like them, krin metamorphose.

  “Into what?” Isabella asked.

  I do not know. Was it always a mystery or have I forgotten? All I know is that all krin ascend after a time—and all krin look forward to it eagerly.

  Max whimpered at this. Rafe felt Isabella query it, but it was unable to provide more detail besides an inarticulate yearning.

  “How long does this middle phase last?” asked Isabella. “What does a krin need to ascend, as you put it?”

  It was Rafe who answered the latter question. “Ka, I expect. Good, clean ka.”

  Just so.

  “It all comes back to the ka in the end,” muttered Rafe. The others did not disagree. “What tainted the ka?” he asked. “What made it unusable?”

  We did.

  “How?”

  We grew impatient, kayan and krin alike. The ka that flowed up to the world was not potent enough for the kayan’s grand plans or the krin’s desire to cut short the middle stage of our life cycle. So a number of us worked together to create a device that would strengthen the ka and we installed it under the disc.

  “It didn’t work,” guessed Isabella. Rafe pressed his palms against the glass and leaned into the cylinder, as if that would help him absorb Zacharias’ words even more.

  Wrong. It did work. For a time. That was the Golden Age of the kayan, the era of Starfall and the other floating cities, of ships of glass and chrome riding the ether to other worlds, of the creation of ironwood and dragonlace and koya trees.

  “What of the krin? Did they ascend?”

  Many prepared to. There were more volunteers than we thought wise. In the end, we chose two dozen to cocoon themselves and prepare for ascension. We placed them in streams of the new, potent ka and… Zacharias trailed off.

  “And?” Isabella pressed.

  What emerged were… horrors.

  “You mean like the krin of today,” Isabella stated.

  Worse.

  “Hmm.” Isabella put her hand on Eya’s hilt.

  The kayan and the krin who remained fought these twisted beings. Battles raged across the world, nearly cracking it in two. That is how the Divide came about. We barely won—and just in time. For the true extent of the damage was about to be fully revealed.

  Zacharias described what happened, things Rafe knew off from nursery rhymes and old tales now called fanciful myths. The tainted ka affected Selene’s twin satellite, the sun Salerus. Its orbit degraded, its internal mechanisms disrupted, it shot out unpredictable flares and scorched the land. The kayan’s defenses failed and their cities fell. Their magic deserted them at the critical time, for the poisoned ka was like acid to their minds and bodies.

  In the end, the strongest nine took their stand at the Tors Lumena. They destroyed their bodies by taking on the poisoned ka and fixed Salerus in place under the disc. Renat was the only survivor and he was tasked with finding a permanent solution to the problem.

  But without their magic, the kayan were severely limited in what they could do. The backlash for their arrogant meddling wiped out many. Those born with kayan abilities succumbed often to quartz sickness. Precious knowledge was lost in the chaos that followed: books burnt, crystal rods shattered, resinous stones deformed.

  And now time has almost run out for the world. Zacharias had no eyes, but Rafe felt it looking at him. Salerus flares from below. Ka pulses destroy agri-caves and boils lakes dry. The world had been dying for centuries. Now it will go up in flame.

  What, kayan, will you do?

  Rafe removed his hands from the glass. They were numb from the pressure he’d exerted on them.

  “Clean the ka. Restore the sun. Bring light back to the world.” He had known this from almost the beginning, from back when Sable had taken him to Monaria to train.

  He had just never admitted it to himself.

  Until right now.

  Saying it out loud ought to have felt overly dramatic, foolish, and arrogant.

  But it didn’t.

  It felt right.

  He was a kayan.

  This was his duty.

  Rafe understood duty. He’d lived and breathed it for years.

  Impossible as the tasks were, having a purpose felt right.

  I will not impress upon you the difficulty of what needs to be done. All this you know. You have my aid in this. And my thanks.

  “There is one more thing,” Isabella asked. “I was given a key from another krin, for a kayan. Do you know what it’s for?”

  Rafe drew out the key from under his shirt, where he kept it on a string around his neck. It was battered and heavy on his palm, but still only a key.

  Zacharias said, Ah. I see. That clever Renat. He created a key with no magic.

  Rafe picked up the th
read. “One whose function cannot be disrupted by tainted magic, because there are no ka-systems to disrupt.”

  “Both of you are as smug as cats in the pigeon-loft,” commented Isabella. “Care to enlighten me?”

  Rafe held up the key. “This is the key to the device that started this mess. It’s simple. All we have to do is turn it off.”

  “Of course it is. All we have to do is go under the disc, fighting twisted krin and Karzov’s minions all the way. We’ll have to withstand flares of toxic ka. Make it down the arms that hold our world in place. Then distract Karzov long enough to find the device, insert the key, and turn it. Couldn’t be easier.”

  Rafe grinned. “And here I thought you were up for any challenge, darling Isabella. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “On permanent vacation with my sense of humor,” she said. “And how do we get under the disc anyway? It’s a long journey to the rim, and then we’ll have to let ourselves off the side with strong ropes—unless they thought to provide us with handholds.”

  Nothing of the sort. There is a simpler way down, one created by the kayan.

  Zacharias flashed an image in their minds.

  “Of course,” they said in unison.

  Isabella frowned. “Which means,” she said slowly, “Karzov is likely headed there, too.”

  “He won’t be able to just waltz in,” Rafe assured her. “But still… we need to get back there, fast. We need to meet up with Coop first. Can you loan us a machine? Something fast, on rails?”

  I can do one better. Another image flickered in their minds.

  “Perfect,” said Rafe.

  “Lovely,” muttered Isabella, not meaning it.

  A map of the palace appeared in their heads, their route outlined in green.

  Since Roland’s demise, I have been left with minimal instructions to do my duties. The First Minister has no love of machines nor more than a vague understanding of how to order a Primary. He has no idea what broad latitude he has given me. Zacharias preened like a particularly self-satisfied cat. Some locked doors and manufactured emergencies will keep your path clear to the palace roof. You will be away before he realizes it.

  “Thank you, but I have one more thing to take care of before I leave.” Rafe inclined his head. “We appreciate your help. Come on, Isabella.” He turned away.

  She stayed for a moment longer, frown between her eyes, fingering Eya’s grip. “These horrifying krin monsters. They were all destroyed?”

  Yes.

  “You are sure?”

  A pause, as if Zacharias searched its memory. As far as I know.

  “Which may not be far enough.”

  Do not borrow trouble, slayer.

  “Not I.” She went to where Rafe waited at the door. “I seek only to prepare for it.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Rafe

  THEY LEFT THE MACHINE Room with the canoid at their heels. Halfway down the corridor, Isabella commented, “It appears you made a friend. I doubt you’ll be able to dislodge your companion now.”

  Rex frisked around Rafe’s feet, springs wheezing, joints creaking. “Needs lubricant,” Rafe commented, picking up the canoid. It wiggled in his arms.

  Stay still, he told it firmly.

  Rex settled down immediately.

  Rafe examined its insides, a melding of machinery and delicate traceries of ka systems. He twisted three threads together in one place, tweaked a fourth in another place, and was rewarded by the pleasant glow of a well-put-together system. The canoid nudged him gratefully with its cold muzzle once, but otherwise remained still during the operation.

  “Perfect obedience,” said Rafe. “It’s a refreshing occurrence.”

  Isabella did not deign to reply. She strode past Rafe and took the lead. They came to a narrow set of stairs, rising up steeply, then bending back over itself. She stopped and he could tell she was scouting ahead with her kyra senses.

  “Two guards on duty on the landing upstairs. Edgy and nervous, most likely newer recruits given a safe posting,” she reported. “I’ll take the left one, you have the right? Let’s put them to sleep quickly and silently.”

  “Right.” Rafe put Rex down. He readied his own spell. It was a modification of one a patient shahkayan had read out to him from a book, then created a stick model out of so the blind kayan could trace it with his fingers. Heavy on purple, the sensory deprivation induced a sleeping state that Rafe figured would be useful for taking unfortunate minions out of the way.

  Isabella’s methods were simpler and more direct. Her kyra training had included much anatomy and physiology. She knew which pressure points would render her opponents unconscious and she put the skill to use with quick efficiency. While Rafe was still enveloping the purplish net around his assigned guard, she’d already bound and gagged her own, and dragged him behind a fake potted plant.

  Rafe’s target was more stubborn than Rafe anticipated. He fought the drag on his eyelids and the haze in his mind. Already on edge and alert, the adrenalin spiking through his body dissipated the suggestion that he rest himself into purple motes.

  In the end, Rafe had to use more brutal tactics, by putting the man in a choke hold augmented by a bright green holding spell. The guard struggled against the restraints, physical and magical, and Rafe readied another spell.

  Isabella moved in and knocked him out before he could deploy it.

  He frowned in her direction.

  “No need to use a flamethrower to light a candle,” Isabella answered. “Save your magic for something else.”

  When the other guard was safely stashed away, this time behind a metal urn that rang when Rafe stubbed his toe on it, the pair plus canoid resumed creeping across stained carpet.

  Isabella’s sight showed Rafe all the signs of the upheavals Tristan had narrated. Dirty boot marks were ground deep into what had once been plush, pale blue carpet. The gilt wallpaper was ripped and stained, and the elegant glass chandeliers that had once lighted the way were replaced with ugly, practical bronze ones.

  Glass shards glittered between wall and carpet. That, and the dirty carpet and grubby walls showed how the palace was no longer the well-run place it had been. Queen Gertrude would never have allowed even the smallest corridor of her domain to remain in such a state.

  Rex, walking sedately to heel, emitted a warning squeak in Rafe’s mind, a sound so high-pitched he winced and clapped his hands to his ears. BadManBadManBadManahead!

  At the same time, Isabella said, “Leo Grenfeld is in the former conservatory ahead of us. Shall we bypass him?”

  Rafe consulted Rex on the time. “No, I think not. I want to finish what I started, at any rate. That’s the large conservatory with the balconies, correct?”

  Isabella paused while she confirmed. “Yes, though the doors have been boarded up. Shouldn’t take much to kick them down.”

  “I’ll rely on you to do that when the time comes.” Rafe placed protective armor of green over them both, and Rex, too, for good measure. “This is only good for three bullets. After that, you’re both on your own.”

  Isabella glanced down at herself as if trying to see the ka armor.

  You do have a nice figure, Rafe told her, as a way of reminding her of their shared sight.

  A tinge of embarrassment touched Isabella’s cool. Is now really the time to be thinking of such things?

  I have no problems multi-tasking.

  Good for you, then. There are guards outside the conservatory. I’ll take them down. Don’t take too long.

  She was gone before he could respond.

  Rafe remarked to Rex, “Girl has a hard time accepting compliments.”

  He followed Isabella at a more leisurely pace. His ears caught the sound of grunts and thuds. As he arrived on the scene, Isabella kicked in the solid conservatory doors. They crashed open with enough violence to partially come off their hinges.

  Isabella darted into the room. Shots fired, ripping at Isabella’s shield as she lu
nged. Swift chops disarmed two guards, then she was at Leo’s side, Eya at his throat.

  “Call off your dogs,” she told him. “We’re only here to talk. Once Rafe’s had his say, we’re out of here.”

  “She’s right, Uncle,” said Rafe, strolling in after her. “We aren’t here to take power for ourselves.”

  Leo was rigid, his face a mask of disgust. “I’m not afraid of either of you.”

  “That’s too bad,” said Isabella. “You should be.”

  Rafe noted the rohkayan in the room fumbling with pendants and devices hidden in their capacious sleeves. On top of lacking any shielding, the ka-systems were not robust; it took only a few arrow-heads of sharpened ka to disrupt them.

  Devices fizzled as he overloaded them. One of the rohkayan yelped and dropped a tangled mass of smoking wire on the floor. He beat his scorching sleeve against his side.

  Ah, yes, this was the one who’d walked in front of him in the tunnel leading to the underground cavern.

  “Sorry.” Rafe twitched strands of yellow and orange away from the tangle, before it could properly burst into flame.

  Falkor fiddled with a chain of quartz crystals a moment longer. Then he shrugged and let it fall. He caught Leo’s eye and spread his arms out, as if to say, What can I do against a kayan?

  “So much for Shimmer mages,” said Leo bitterly. He glared at Isabella, an impressive feat since she stood behind his shoulder, her dagger pressed to his jugular. “Young woman, you can put that down. I have hardly the capacity to harm either of you, and I pledge my word that neither I nor any under my command will attempt it.”

  Isabella didn’t move. Belatedly, Rafe recalled the intense rivalry she’d had with Leo in her guise as the Marquis of Rocquespur. However staged the persona was, some hard feelings still lingered.

  Do it, he told her.

  Isabella dropped her dagger hand and stepped away from Leo, but not out of striking distance.

  Leo straightened his jacket collar with composure, thought he could not fail to sense the chilly dislike Isabella trained upon him. A lesser man would’ve wilted, but not Leo.

  “I might as well spare you the trouble of wasting your breath.” Leo addressed Rafe, his tone formal and distant. “Your information is suspect and your opinions biased and foolish. Consorting with this person has not improved you.”