The Arclight Saga

by C. M. Hayden

  Taro ignored her request. “If you want to know how your sister’s doing, you’re going to teach me how to locate the second page.”

  “Impossible,” Vexis said. “Your little Endran brain is just too small. You and the Sun King are pals, right? Get him to intercede.”

  “The Sun King hates you.”

  “Little ol’ me?” Vexis shrugged. “I guess oblivion won’t be so bad. The afterlife was never going to agree with me anyway. It’s a shame about Nima, though. I’m the only person for a hundred miles who knows enough about Helian magic to do what you want done. It’s a shame I’m stuck in here.” She winked slyly at Taro.

  “How do I even know you’re telling the truth about being able to locate the second page? For all I know, you’re screwin’ with me.”

  Vexis looked him straight in the eyes. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve said she looked sincere. “This time, I’m telling you the truth. So, please, tell me the truth. Where is Kadia? You said she was transferred to a new hospital in Helia?”

  “I didn’t say transferred. I said released.”

  Vexis stood and almost grabbed the lethal cage bars with her bare hands, but she stopped just short of touching them. “Tell me you’re lying.”

  Taro shook his head. “He let her go.”

  “She’s not well,” Vexis said, an obviously vast understatement. Kadia was cracked, extremely paranoid, and very powerful. It’d be a miracle if she survived six months before she was run down and burned at the stake in a city as deeply paranoid as the Helian capital.

  As Taro got up and headed for the door, Vexis reached out and shouted toward him. It wasn’t a shout of anger—it was a plea. She was inches away from begging. “Taro. Please. She needs constant care. She can’t be left alone.” Vexis put her hand to her mouth. “I need to get out of here.”

  “That’s not going to work,” Taro said, glancing back.

  “You don’t understand. I have to get out of here now.”

  “You’ll be leaving soon enough. Sivion will handle you well, I’m sure.”

  “Taro!” she shouted, stammering her words. “You want proof I can dowse? Go to the Librarium. Look up a book called The Farseer’s Theophany.”

  Taro kept walking and opened the door.

  “It’s keyed to Kadia!” Vexis shouted. “It won’t point north. It will point toward Helia!”

  Kyra was on the other side of the door, leaning against a stone wall.

  “What’s she going on about?” Kyra asked.

  “Nothing,” Taro said, as Vexis continued to shout inaudibly from the other side of the closed door. “This place has gotten to her. She’s even more barking mad than she was before.”

  The ride back from the Carcerium was fairly quiet. In fact, they might’ve gotten all the way back to the Magisterium were it not for Kyra speaking first.

  “Kadia is her sister, isn’t she?” Kyra said.

  Taro nodded. “I think she’s the only thing Vexis truly cares about. I thought I could use that to get the information I needed.”

  “Did it work?”

  “I don’t know yet. That’s the thing about Vexis, isn’t it? It’s hard to tell where she stands.”

  Chapter Eight

  Emissaries from the East

  Suri was the only person Taro told about his meeting with Vexis. She responded as Taro expected she would.

  “Dowsing is a myth,” she said simply. “Vexis is yanking your chain.”

  Suri had a great many scrolls tucked under her right arm and a mug of steaming black coffee in her left hand. She was hurrying to the alchemy lab on the first floor, zig-zagging through the throngs of recruits that filed through the halls. Taro offered to hold some of her things and walk her there, which she accepted.

  “She said there was proof,” Taro countered.

  Suri stopped and poked one finger on his chest as if she were reprimanding a small child, despite the fact he was a full head taller. “There’s nothing in her but lies and deceit. Did you forget what she did to you? What she did to Pipes?”

  Taro stared down at the floor. “No.”

  “They finally found his body after the ice thawed,” Suri said bitterly.

  Taro swallowed hard. “You don’t have to remind me.”

  “Apparently, I do. You’re a good guy, Taro, but you have a knack for being attracted to shitty people. Absolutely no good can come from you talking to her.”

  “Will you at least help me find the book she mentioned?” Taro asked hopefully.

  Suri sighed. “Fine. I will. But after my alchemy workshop. My team’s making flash powder, but the morons can’t tell phosphorous from arsenic. I’ll meet you in the Librarium in two hours.”

  Suri went on ahead to the lab, and Taro doubled back through the Curia foyer. It had been busy before, but distracted as he was, he’d chalked that up to the midday rush. Now that he was paying attention, he noticed that the crowds were gathered outside the double doors. Several men of the King’s Guard stood beside them, and Taro reasoned that the Sun King must’ve been inside.

  Taro pushed passed the recruits and artificers and made a motion to enter, but the warders stopped him. “This is a private meeting.”

  Taro flashed his newly stamped aurom. “I’m an official advisor to His Majesty.”

  The warder examined the aurom for a long minute, then looked to the others who nodded. “Very well, young lord.”

  The moment Taro slipped inside, he knew something was terribly wrong. There was a great deal of shouting and arguing from the other side of the chamber. The Sun King was present, standing between Arangathras and two foreign men in sand-colored linen robes. Sivion was quietly observing the exchange from a distance, but she was clearly distressed.

  The two foreigners remained calm and didn’t even flinch when Arangathras pointed one of his massive claws at them and snarled like a rabid dog.

  “You have no right,” Arangathras said.

  “His Lordship has every right,” the taller of the two said. From his accent, blond hair, and pale complexion, there was no doubt he was Helian. In addition to their sand-colored robes, they wore long necklaces with various religious baubles hanging from them. A silver compass, a steel astrolabe, and a small gold telescope. Helia was hundreds of miles to the northeast, through a vast, unending desert. And, as the Helians did not believe in using any form of magic (outside of their select farseers and Inquisitors), they must’ve arrived by horseback.

  “I must hear their claim, Lord Arangathras,” the Sun King said diplomatically.

  “There is no claim,” the dragon snapped. “Vexis has harmed none of their people. Committed no crime against their country or their Shahl.”

  “Yet,” the tall Helian emissary began, “she remains one of us. Her comings and goings aside, she is a daughter of Helia. His Lordship, in his wisdom and mercy, formally requests that she be returned to her people to face punishment.”

  “I will not let you take her,” Arangathras said.

  The Sun King looked to Sivion. “My lady, please.”

  Sivion looked at the Helians in disgust. “If the doddering, pompous, arrogant zealot wishes to stake a claim on her, he should’ve come himself.”

  “How dare you,” the Helian said. “Our Lordship’s failing health doesn’t permit him to travel.”

  Arangathras started to speak, but Sivion quieted him and spoke herself. “Tell me, there are tens of thousands of Helians in Endra. Why the sudden interest in this girl? Does she not represent everything your master despises?”

  The emissary touched his fingertips together. “The Shahl is forgiving.”

  “That’s not what I’ve heard,” Taro said from the doorway. When he wasn’t shooed away immediately, he took a few steps in.

  “What is this child doing here?” the Helian said.

  “I’ve got more of a right to be here than you,” Taro said. He approached the Sun King. “Your Majesty, please tell me you’re not entertaining these clow
ns. If you hand Vexis over to them, she’ll be free in a week.”

  The Sun King shook his head. “No. Lord Arangathras is correct, they have no claim.”

  The emissary held up one finger. “I would advise Your Majesty to think on this a bit longer. The execution of our sister would be a most egregious act, and the Shahl does not forget those who wrong him.”

  “I thought you said he was forgiving,” Taro said.

  “Forgiving, yes, but not forgetful. His Lordship is well-aware of the hardship Endra has faced in the last few years. A weakened Magisterium, plague, insolvency, insurrection, yet through it all he did not move against your people.”

  General Gavin spoke up for the first time. “I’d have liked to see you try.”

  “I very much doubt that, given the enormous amount of debt your kingdom has incurred these past two years. Our bookkeepers estimate it to be in the millions of crowns,” the emissary said piously. “My point is whether or not you hand Vexis over to the dragonkin, you won’t see them for a thousand years. However, as our neighbors you will have to deal with us for a great long time. Think of the trade routes, the goods and services that cross our borders, and the long peace we’ve enjoyed.”

  “You’d sacrifice all of that just for this one girl?” the Sun King said.

  “Never. But, then again, we won’t be the ones jeopardizing it. All His Lordship wants is to ensure that she receives a fair trial.”

  “A fair trial for Vexis ends in an execution,” Taro said.

  “Do you see?” the emissary said. “You’ve already judged her guilty, how can she get a fair trial here?”

  “I’ve seen firsthand the things she’s done,” Taro said.

  “And who might you be?” the emissary asked, looking him over. His eyes paused at Taro’s prosthetic leg.

  Taro looked to the Sun King. “I’m an advisor to His Majesty.”

  “Ah. Well, my name is Sorkesh, and this is my associate Trezu,” the emissary said, pointing to himself, then to the other Helian. The pitch of his voice peaked, and he moved closer to Taro and tapped his wooden foot with his staff. “I didn’t realized the Endran military allowed cripples into its ranks. The Sun King is most charitable.”

  Taro took a furious step forward, but General Gavin put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Easy boy,” the general said.

  Taro calmed a bit, and flashed an insincere smile at the Helian. “I hope you enjoy your travel home. It must be disheartening to come this far and leave emptyhanded.”

  “I’m hoping there’s still time for the Sun King to see reason,” Sorkesh said, glancing sideways at the king.

  “I’ve already seen it,” the Sun King said, taking a few steps forward. “You may take this message back to the Shahl. After her trial, Vexis will be turned over to the Brood. You are free to remain in the city and observe the trial to ensure that it’s equitable, but she won’t be returning with you.” The Sun King looked to Sivion. “Are those terms fair, my lady?”

  Sivion nodded.

  “There’s no reasoning with you, then. How unfortunate,” Sorkesh said bitterly. “I’m sure His Lordship will be most disappointed.” He and his companion bowed low to the Sun King. “We will accept your hospitality, Your Grace, and remain in the city until our sister’s trial is complete.”

  “I’ll have appropriate quarters made for someone befitting your station,” the Sun King said. “I’m sure you’re weary from your long journey. Follow my warders and they’ll see you to meat and drink.”

  Sorkesh’s companion, Trezu, spoke for the first time. He pulled his hood back, exposing a rather nasty scar that cut from his cheek to his eye. He had a timid voice that barley raised over a crackle. “The generosity of the Endran people is legendary. May the Old High Gods smile upon your fair city.”

  Taro winced at the scar. “You know if you remove your hood outside for a few days, the Arclight should be able to heal your scar.”

  “I am aware of the healing powers of the Arclight,” Trezu said. “However, such a use of the Old God’s magic would be inappropriate. Was it not Haxis the Elder who said, ‘for all magic there is a weight that must be incurred and a toll that must be paid?’”

  “Haxis the Elder? I’ve always heard him called Haxis the Conqueror,” Taro said.

  “I suppose that would depend upon one’s perspective, Mr. Taro,” Sorkesh said.

  Taro wasn’t sure, but at that moment he could’ve sworn he heard Sivion scoff. When he glanced in her direction, she and her bodyguards were already on their way out.

  It wasn’t until everyone had dispersed, and Taro was on his way to the Librarium with Suri, that he thought about the emissaries again. He went over their conversation in his mind a dozen times, each time less sure of one minor detail. Suri noticed his distraction and stopped him at the Librarium’s entrance.

  “Are you okay?” she said.

  “The Helian ambassador called me by name.”

  “So?” Suri said.

  “I didn’t tell him my name.”

  Chapter Nine

  The Dowsing Compass

  The head archivist, Moira, was at her usual perch in the Librarium, scribbling in her ledger and organizing books into five different stacks. Busy as it was so near the end of the term, she had a great deal of help. It wasn’t uncommon for recruits and low-ranking artificers to volunteer in the Librarium. While she wasn’t a magister, she did have a lot of clout with the higher-ups that came in handy when one needed a sponsor.

  Taro had been waiting in a sizable line for twenty minutes before he was ushered toward one of these volunteers. The boy was a fair bit younger than him, and he looked horribly overworked. There were dark circles under his eyes, and when he looked up he barely mustered out a grunt. Taro took this sound to mean, ‘How can I help you?’

  “I’m looking for The Farseer’s Theophany.”

  “Author?”

  “The Farseer, I guess,” Taro said dubiously.

  The boy glared at him and gave a mock laugh. “I’m going to need something to narrow it down.”

  “It’s probably non-fiction, if that helps.”

  The boy opened an enormous tome on a rotating pedestal and flipped through dozens of pages, then through whole blocks of pages until he stopped on one. All the words inside were handwritten, no typesetting, and each set was different as if a thousand librarians had written in it over hundreds of years.

  “I don’t see anything,” the boy said after a pause. “I can make a note and send a runner down into the Tombs when we have the manpower.”

  Taro leaned in. “What if I knew the last person to check it out?”

  “That would help a ton. Who was it?”

  “Vexis Andurin,” Taro whispered, trying to be quiet enough for Moira not to hear.

  The boy stared Taro directly in the eye for a long moment, as if he were trying to figure out if he was serious. He turned to a separate ledger, one that kept records of all books checked out of the Librarium and found Vexis’ name.

  “Section J, second story. H-2,” the boy said, and scribbled it down onto a scrap of loose paper.

  As Taro left to get Suri, he glanced back and saw the boy whispering something into Moira’s ear. God only knew what he was telling her, but at that moment Taro was too single-minded to care.

  The Farseer’s Theophany was where he said it would be. It was a ponderously large tome with a copper-plated cover awash with dust. It was heavy, and climbing down the two-story ladder with it tucked under his arm was a feat. Suri waited for him at the bottom, and they found a desk in an out-of-the-way section of the second floor.

  “What exactly is a farseer?” Taro asked, brushing away the layer of dust from the title.

  “A magister,” Suri said. “Well, the Helian equivalent back before the Shahl came to power. They still exist, apparently, but the Shahl is very picky on those he considers ‘worthy’ to use the power of the Old Gods. As I understand it, there are only a handful left.”


  “How do you know that?”

  “Some of us actually pay attention in our history lectures.” Suri bopped him on the forehead jokingly. “I swear, if you ever want a prayer of getting a sponsor, you need to get your nose in the books, Taro.”

  “I’m never going to be able to focus until I know Nima is safe.”

  Taro unlatched the squeaky brace holding the book closed and pulled it open. The pages inside were hallowed out in a perfectly cut square. Inside of the square was a burnished elm box, and inside that, what appeared to be an old sailing compass, but there were no cardinal markings under the glass, and there were three needles. One needle had an arrow and pointed in a northeasterly direction, and the other two were perpendicular to one another.

  “The so-called dowsing compass?” Suri said.

  “Vexis said it was tuned to her sister.” Taro lifted the compass up by the steel chain. “And it does point in the direction of Helia. But…” He tapped the glass just above the two non-arrowed lines. “What do these mean? Distance?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Taro turned the compass over twice, and made note of the markings on the back. Fluid, with long curves, very unlike the Deific runes of magistry, but when he took out the two-way parchment and compared them side by side they were clearly related. Some form of Helian magic then, but how did it work?

  “I need Vexis.” Taro said it quietly, and to himself, completely forgetting that Suri was only inches away.

  Suri placed a hand on his forearm. Her expression was anxious but softened with concerned. He expected her to rebuke him harshly, but she spoke slowly and deliberately.

  “It’s a compass with some writing on it,” Suri said. “There’s no way of knowing if it can dowse. She could’ve put it here to trick you.”

  Taro picked some of the cob webs from the inside of the book. “It’s been here for months at least. I don’t think even Vexis has that much foresight. It has to do something.”

  Suri put one hand on each side of his head. “I know that look, Taro. You need to get it out of your head. For the sake of what friends you have left, and to avoid not getting thrown in the Carcerium yourself, stay away from her. Promise me.”