Karalyn felt a stick prod her leg. The old Holdings woman put down the lamp and peered at her.
‘Well, are you alive, then?’
‘I think so,’ said Karalyn, her voice rasping.
‘Fall down the well, did you?’ the old woman said. ‘You’re not the first. That wall’s too low for your type; I’ve seen drunken Kellach land head first into the pool.’
‘Do you live down here?’
‘Yes,’ the Holdings woman said. ‘In the tunnels under the Old Town. Folk have lived here for decades. Folk that don’t belong, one way or another. We don’t get bothered by anybody, and it’s a lot safer, especially after what’s happened.’
‘What was that?’
‘Never mind,’ the old woman said. ‘I thought for a moment that you might have been involved, but if you don’t know then it can wait. We need to get you somewhere more comfortable. Do you think you can walk? Anything broken?’
‘What time is it?’
The woman frowned. ‘Do you want our help or not? I’ve come all this way, because the boy here tells me he’s rescued some clumsy oaf from the pool, and I’ve not got the patience to stand here in the cold and answer your questions. Now, are you injured?’
Karalyn tried to move. Her right leg felt fine, though stiff and bruised, but her left was in agony. She leant on her elbow and struggled into a sitting position.
‘There, that’s better,’ said the woman. She pulled a flask from a pouch by her belt and held it out to Karalyn.
‘Thanks,’ she said, opening it and taking a swig. Brandy. She coughed, and took another drink, the spirits warming her. She stretched her arms. Her right shoulder was sore, but the main pain was in her leg. She gazed at it. A long gash ran down her thigh, and blood was soaking through her leggings.
‘Her leg will need bound up,’ said the boy, glancing at Karalyn from the shadows behind his grandmother.
‘Indeed it will,’ said the old woman. ‘Pass me your cloak.’
The boy frowned and did as he was told. The woman took hold of the hem and ripped off several long pieces of cloth, setting each one down beside her. She reached over and examined Karalyn’s leg.
‘Must have hit something on the way down,’ she said. ‘Still, you’re a lucky girl. Folk have broken their necks from that fall.’
Karalyn sat and watched as the old woman tied the strips of cloth around her injured leg.
‘Right,’ the woman said. ‘That’ll do. Now, follow us, and be careful, the tunnel is low. You might have to crawl.’
The old woman had been right. Karalyn was too tall even to crouch in the cavern, and she ended up having to crawl through the long, twisting tunnel. It rose upwards, then levelled out into a larger space, lit by a couple of oil-lamps. Karalyn was helped by the boy and the woman to stand, and she limped over to a bench carved out of the side of the cave. They rested for a few minutes, then carried on through a wider corridor, with openings on each side. People were moving around, preparing food and folding away blankets. They turned into a large chamber half-full with people sitting at small tables. At the end of the room two men were ladling hot food into bowls.
‘Is it really morning?’ said Karalyn as they sat.
‘Yeah,’ said the boy. ‘What’s your name?’
Karalyn glanced around. She was earning a few stares from some of the others in the chamber.
‘Beth,’ she said.
The boy nodded. ‘Where are you from? Kellach or the Holdings?’
Karalyn didn’t answer. She tried to piece together the previous night. She had fought Belinda late in the evening, but felt as if she had been sleeping or unconscious for only a couple of hours, judging by how long she had been out ranging. Had she been so exhausted that she had been unable to dream-vision? She felt for her powers, and they responded to her will, ready. Apart from the aches and pains, she felt rested.
A bowl of warm milk and mashed wheat with a tiny sprinkling of sugar was placed in front of her. The boy was already eating his, but his grandmother was looking at her with suspicion.
‘Well?’ she said. ‘The boy asked you a question.’
‘My father’s a Kell,’ said Karalyn, ‘and my mother’s from the Holdings.’
‘Ah,’ said the woman, ‘you’re one of them. Seen a few around the city. You’re the oldest by far, though, all the others are young children.’
‘Now,’ said Karalyn, ‘it’s your turn. By the pool, you said that something had happened.’
‘Yes, I did. It was last night, there was a proper commotion up in the Old Town, and in other places too, I heard. The Empress was paraded through the streets, looking half-dead, her face all bandaged up, with that Lady Belinda leading them. There’s something going on, and I don’t like it.’
Karalyn nodded, then her mouth opened as she remembered that Dyam had told her to help them escape from the palace. ‘Damn it,’ she said. ‘I’m supposed to be somewhere. What time is it exactly?’
‘We don’t do exact times down here,’ the woman said, ‘but I’d guess a couple of hours after dawn.’
Karalyn groaned. Too late. What should she do – go to the palace regardless, or try something else? What would her mother do? It should be her there, not Karalyn. Her mother was the one who knew all about fighting and rescuing people; she had heard the stories often enough from Laodoc. Her resolve started to crumble.
‘Eat up,’ said the woman, ‘even if you’re not hungry. It’ll do you good.’
Karalyn took the spoon and forced herself to take a few bites. Her jaw ached from the punch she had received from Belinda, but the warm food felt good, and she devoured the rest in seconds.
‘Get her another, boy,’ the old woman said, smiling. ‘The Kellach is strong in her. And bring over a pot of tea.’
They ate breakfast around the little table, and drank several cups of scalding hot tea. The old woman lit a cigarette and offered one to Karalyn.
‘Thanks, she said, lighting it and taking a drag, a cup of tea in her other hand.
The woman laughed. ‘Some Holdings is in there as well, I see.’
‘Must be good being both at the same time,’ said the boy.
‘Aye,’ Karalyn said, ‘it is.’
There was a noise by the entrance to the chamber and Karalyn turned. A group of Holdings and Kellach Brigdomin were talking in whispers. Some left, running down the passageway, while others arrived. The chamber began to empty.
‘What’s happening?’ said the old woman to a man rushing past.
‘Soldiers have surrounded the Great Fortress,’ he cried. ‘The Imperial Herald’s leading them in person.’
Karalyn jumped to her feet, then staggered under the sudden pain in her left thigh.
‘That needs seen to before you go anywhere,’ the old woman said.
‘Thank you for everything,’ she said, glancing at them both, ‘but I have to go. I’m needed.’
She began limping towards the entrance and the old woman placed a hand on her arm.
‘Here,’ she said, passing her a walking stick. ‘Take this at least. I’ve got another one at home.’
Karalyn took it in her left hand and released some of the pressure on her leg.
‘And you’ll probably need these,’ the old woman said, holding out the pack of cigarettes.
Karalyn smiled and put it in her pocket, her hand brushing against something.
‘Thanks,’ she said, and walked slowly to the passageway. She put her hand back in her pocket and felt a small stone. She gathered it in her palm and looked at it – it was the diamond that she had picked up off the floor of the Empress’s study after the last attack. It held a strange hue as it glinted in the lamplight, and she noticed that it had been cut to a certain shape, as if meant to fit into something. She put it back into her pocket and withdrew the other item she had felt. It was the stick of keenweed.
Karalyn gazed at it. It would wake her up, or so Dyam had claimed. She frowned. It was wet through from the fa
ll into the well. She threw it away and carried on down the passageway.
The tunnel was getting busier by the second. People were spilling out of the side caverns, and rushing up the passageway. Karalyn caught the sight of steel in front of her, and the crowds made way for a line of soldiers, panting in their armour. Behind them was a ladder attached to the side of a wall, leading up to the streets above.
‘Nobody go up there!’ cried one, an officer. ‘It’s a massacre!’
Someone in the crowd screamed, and people started to jostle past each other, pushing and shouting in their attempts to get away from the opening to the street. Karalyn moved to the side, standing firm as the panicking civilians fled past her.
‘Miss!’ shouted someone.
Only soldiers were left standing in the passageway, and one of them, a Kellach Brigdomin, approached her. She recognised him from the palace, but had never seen him in armour before. Tears stained his cheeks, and his eyes were wide.
‘What are you doing down here, miss?’ he cried. ‘Are you hurt?’ He paused, glancing back at the ladder and the opening above. ‘It’s not safe here, Miss Holdfast, you need to move.’
‘What happened?’ she said.
‘Lady Belinda,’ he said. ‘It was a slaughter. The Herald…’
‘Dyam? Is she alright?’
He shook his head. ‘Belinda killed her first.’
Karalyn felt rage burst through her and she began walking towards the ladder, using the stick to help her along.
‘What are you doing?’ the soldier cried. He raced around her to bar the way, as other soldiers rushed to stop her.
She entered the soldier’s mind.
‘Sorry, Calder,’ she said.
Forget you saw me here, all of you. None of you see me.
The soldiers blinked and gazed around, and Karalyn slipped between them. She reached the ladder and pushed the stick through her belt, before pulling herself up the wooden steps. Her left leg throbbed, and she couldn’t trust it with any weight, so she used her arms to climb, her right leg keeping her steady. At the top she saw daylight, and then the houses and streets that surrounded the hatch. She crawled through and stumbled to the nearest building. Sitting in the shadows, she glanced around. No one was about, but she could hear cries and shouts coming from the direction of the Great Fortress. She gripped the stick and staggered along the street, keeping under the dark eaves. She turned a corner and saw a pile of bodies blocking the road. Armoured soldiers lay scattered, blood coming from their heads. Karalyn stifled an urge to vomit as she gazed at the scene.
She stepped over the fallen and the south face of the Great Fortress came into view. She stopped as she saw movement ahead and crouched down. Peering over the bodies, she saw a figure kneeling over someone. It was Nyane. Karalyn began to stand, then she saw a group of soldiers emerge from the front entrance of the fortress, their crossbows aimed at her friend. Karalyn almost cried out, then saw Lady Belinda standing at the tall gates, and she ducked back down, watching as the soldiers took Nyane and led her away.
The gates closed behind them. Karalyn cursed her cowardice, and cursed Belinda. Part of her longed to turn and run, escape from the heaps of dead and the Great Fortress, but she remembered the words of her mother. Her eyes went to the body that Nyane had been mourning over. She already knew who it would be, but she couldn’t look away. She saw the long blonde hair spilling across the ground, matted in dark blood. Karalyn closed her eyes, her heart breaking.
Karalyn remained motionless among the corpses. There was nothing she could do. Belinda could not be beaten; she had tried, and a thousand warriors had tried, and all had failed. She got to her feet, meaning to scramble back to the tunnels, but instead began walking towards the Great Fortress. She glanced up at the soldiers on lookout up on the roof of the huge building, and willed them not to see her.
She paused when she came to the spot where Dyam lay. She glanced down at the body of the herald, feeling the anger ripple through her. She had no plan, but that wasn’t going to stop her. She continued across the road and climbed the broad, stone steps to the entrance of the fortress.
She knocked on the gates with the stick.
A slow minute passed, then a grille in the door opened. A face appeared, alongside a loaded crossbow.
‘Good morning,’ Karalyn said.
You believe I am a close and trusted friend of Lady Belinda. You will open the door and let me in.
The soldier’s eyes widened, and Karalyn heard bolts slide and bars lift. The gate swung open.
‘Welcome, ma’am,’ the soldier said, bowing.
Karalyn entered the fortress, her eyes adjusting to the lamplight. She turned to the soldier.
Close the gate and forget you saw me.
More soldiers appeared from a side room just as the door was being shut.
You cannot see me.
‘What did you open the gates for?’ asked one of the soldiers.
‘Don’t know,’ he said. ‘Thought I heard something.’
‘You stupid bastard. Have you been drinking?’
Karalyn walked from the hall as the guards bickered. She entered a long, wide corridor, busy with soldiers and she ghosted past them to the bottom of a spiral staircase. She crouched down in the shadows under the iron steps and relaxed her breathing. She needed to locate three people: Nyane, the Empress, and Lady Belinda.
Belinda was easy. Her powers were radiating energy, and Karalyn sensed her before she saw her. She was in a large office on the second floor, speaking with an assembled group of frightened-looking officials, reassuring them that the slaughter outside had been necessary. Nyane was on the floor above, being pushed into in a small, windowless cell. Karalyn watched as the door was locked behind her, and entered the Rahain woman’s mind.
Stay strong, she said. Help is coming.
‘Karalyn?’ Nyane whispered.
Aye. I’m going to find the Empress, but I’ll be back, I promise.
Nyane nodded, wiping the tears from her face.
Karalyn moved her dream-vision up to the next floor, and then the next, searching for the Empress. She came to a thick wooden door, guarded by two soldiers, and squeezed her vision through the keyhole. The room she entered was dark; the thin stripes of light from the closed shutters allowing her to see a figure writhing on a bed. She was groaning in pain, the sheets twisting around her limbs as she turned, her one eye clenched shut.
The Empress.
Karalyn’s rage grew. She pulled her vision back to her head and began to ascend the staircase, leaning on the stick and blinding all who went by to her presence. She could sense that Belinda was still on the second floor as she passed it, and kept climbing, all the way up to the floor under the roof.
She approached the soldiers by the guarded entrance.
Open the door to check on the Empress.
One of the soldiers jumped, and swung the chamber door open. As she was peering inside, Karalyn limped past her.
Close it, and forget this happened.
Karalyn waited until the door had shut behind her, then made her way to the bed. The Empress hadn’t noticed her approach, her face clenched in pain.
‘Your Majesty,’ Karalyn whispered. ‘Open your eye.’
The Empress glanced up, and Karalyn entered her mind.
Relax. Feel your pain ebb away. It’s Karalyn and I’m here to help you. Lie back and breathe. You are the master of the pain you feel. You are strong and you never give up. Believe it.
The Empress’s movements calmed, and her breathing slowed. She gazed at Karalyn from her right eye, a bandage covering her left.
‘The children,’ whispered the Empress.
Karalyn nodded. ‘Give me a moment.’
She sat on the bed and freed her dream-vision, sending it back out into the corridor. There was another door halfway down, and she entered it. Inside, she made out five figures in the dim light. The twins were sitting together, talking in low voices as the three younger child
ren slept on mattresses on the floor. Karalyn pulled her vision back.
‘They’re fine, your Majesty,’ she said. ‘They’re in the next room, safe.’
The Empress smiled. ‘What next?’
‘I hadn’t worked that bit out yet,’ she said. ‘Do you think you can walk?’
‘I feel sick, and dizzy,’ the Empress said, ‘but aye, I can try.’
‘They’ve had you on dullweed for days,’ Karalyn said.
‘I’m not on it any more,’ the Empress said. ‘My head is splitting, though it’s not as bad as it was before.’
‘I wonder why they’ve stopped,’ said Karalyn. ‘I thought they wanted to keep you in a stupor.’
‘Have you got anything to eat? I’m so hungry.’
Karalyn shook her head, but went to a table and poured a glass of water. She stopped as she sensed the approach of power, then ducked into the thick shadows of an alcove as the door opened.
‘Awake, I see,’ said Belinda, striding in. The door closed and she walked towards the bed.
‘What do you want?’ said the Empress.
‘To gloat,’ said Belinda. ‘I’m going to destroy everything you’ve built up, reduce it all to ashes. The Rahain are about to invade the southern Plateau, but that is nothing compared to the devastation I will unleash upon your people. I want you to know that I’m going to hunt down and kill everyone that was involved in the murder of the Creator. Each one of them will suffer before they die.’
‘Is that supposed to scare me?’
‘I have already killed your herald.’
Karalyn watched from the shadows as the Empress’s face hardened. Belinda raised her hand.
‘I think a heart attack should do it,’ she said. ‘Something incredibly painful that will look natural. Yes, that would be perfect.’
Karalyn sent her powers out towards the Empress, enveloping her in a web that deflected the raw burst that came from Belinda.
‘What?’ she cried. She turned, her eyes scanning the room. ‘You?’
Belinda raced over to the alcove and grabbed Karalyn by the throat before the young mage could react. She hauled her over to the bedside, her battle-vision thrumming.
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