Shards

by James Duvall

  “You use that word a lot. Faith.”

  Rain nodded a little, earnest worry in his eyes. At first Sapphire had thought it a trick of perspective because she could only see so little of him at any given moment, but she was becoming more and more convinced that Rain was larger than the average melodian, even for a male. His pelt was white with a wisp of vibrant blue mane hanging down between his eyes. No speckling, lest she think him caelish. At the very least there was some caelish in his ancestry.

  “Yes, that's true,” he said. “Faith is precious, Sapphire. It is the inspiration that drives us to greatness when the world would have us silent. A life without faith is like a candle without light.”

  “I wish you wouldn't say that,” she said, hanging her head.

  “Why?”

  “It sounds like something my brother would say. That's why.”

  “This is a bad thing?” Rain asked, brow knitting in confusion. “You have only spoken well of him these last several nights.”

  Sapphire could feel sadness grip her heart, a cold fist tightening around her throat and taking the strength from her words. “I loved him,” she said in a trembling voice. “He was the most important thing in the world to me and he's...”

  “Where did he go?”

  Sapphire chuckled darkly. “To build a new Alsimor, I expect.”

  She sighed and looked up at the dark corner of the corridor, letting the shadows swallow her vision as though staring into a dark night sky. “He talked about it from as early as I could remember. Mother used to tell us stories about this place. It was the last paradise this side of the Ascended Valley. Humans and luminarians living together in splendor. There was light and fruits enough for everyone every day and music and starlight every night.”

  “He left to find Alsimor?” Rain asked, his tone skeptical.

  “No,” Sapphire shook her head. “That wasn't the way, he said. You could spend your whole life looking for Alsimor and only find more legends and lofty stories set to song. A dreamer's folly, he called it. He wasn't a dreamer, not really. Anyone that thought that didn't really know him. He never looked up wistfully at the sky and yearned for something better. No, he did things. He had this... this light in his eyes, whenever he got an idea into his head. It was like an invisible force you could sense whenever you were around him. For a while I had convinced myself that if I had been a little older I could have reasoned with him, talked him into staying with us, with me... When I was older I went after him. He crossed half of Deshym and into far off places. Havek was the last trace I found of him. He died there, I am sure.”

  “It is a very dark world,” Rain said, his voice soft but firm. “You must see how cruel it would be to ask him not to shine his light.”

  “What difference is there between a candle without light and a candle that's been snuffed out?” Sapphire asked bitterly.

  Rain closed his eyes briefly, opened them, then closed them again, speaking with them pinched shut as though he was imagining some faraway place. “Would there be a difference to you if the sun refused to rise? It is darkness before and darkness again.”

  “He took too many risks,” Sapphire protested. “We needed him. I needed him!”

  “This is not a world for half-measures,” Rain said, his tone growing uncharacteristically heated. “You must not condemn him for following the same light that so endeared him to you. You must understand why he did what he did, what reason compelled you to follow him into a black shard? Did that not require a great step of faith on your own part?”

  Sapphire heaved a frustrated sigh and turned her back to him so that he could not see the painful mix of regret and longing playing across her face. “I was a fool. I was desperate. I never should have tried. I could have died. I could have ended up just like him. In a way I really have. There is wanderlust in our blood. I take the same foolish risks he did.”

  “Because you followed after him?”

  “He was so much braver than I could ever be,” Sapphire answered quietly.

  “That is a strange thing to say for someone that followed a Nightborne into the hallowed halls of Alsimor.”

  “People say that I am brave, but I am not. It is easy to be brave when you are strong, but when he needed me... I was a coward. I stayed in the quiet sanctuary of my childhood when he went where others would not dare. So there it is, Sapphire Nightsong, master alchemist, explorer, coward... I am what I am only because he was so much better. How can I let myself be anything less when he was so much better than all of us having no great strength to call his own? Tell me that, Rain.”

  She looked up at him, expecting to see his sad eyes watching her, but his face was not pressed to the vent. Instead he had threaded his arm through it. Sapphire took his hand in hers and he gripped it tightly. When she stretched out on her hind legs she could see his head and shoulders through the gap.

  “You are not a coward, Sapphire Nightsong. Do you not see the beauty in what has happened here? Your brother's faith has inspired greatness in you. There is no shame in that.”

  Sapphire's thoughts were haunted by that last night her family was whole. She could remember every aspect of it, the creak of the door, the quiet sadness on his face as he stepped into the night alone. He had looked up toward the stars and then the door shut.

  “I never saw him again...”

  “Maybe you yet will.”

  “I wish...” Sapphire said, feeling her throat tighten, her voice cracking. “I wish I had faith like that.”

  Hours passed in silence, Sapphire's injuries beckoning her to sleep. She had no idea how she had survived the blind warp singer's attack or the fall that must have followed. It had become a puzzle that she tried to work out several times a day. Most likely answers seemed to be a crash into the river or half-conscious glide to a rough landing on the island.

  “Did you ever think you would see Alsimor?” Sapphire asked. Rain did not answer.

  “Rain?”

  Sapphire rested her chin on the bars, looking out into the stone corridor. She wondered how long they would keep her and Rain captive. She didn't remember falling asleep again, but she woke to Rain calling her name.

  “Sapphire? Are you alright?”

  Sapphire yawned deeply, stretching her back and wings. “I was only sleeping...”

  “How are you tonight?” came the familiar question.

  “How are you so certain it is night?” Sapphire asked.

  Rain chuckled. “Faith.”

  Sapphire rolled her eyes but felt herself smile. She imagined on the other side of the wall he was grinning ear to ear.

  “Did you ever think you would see Alsimor, Sapphire?” Rain asked.

  “I did not. Though I wish they would let me out to see the rest of it. I was only free for a few hours. Did you see the gardens?”

  “I did! There are many orchards here. I could enjoy living here, I think, though I would not want to do so behind these bars.”

  “What were you doing, when you found Alsimor?” Sapphire asked.

  Rain considered this for a moment, answering with silence. For once the brightness had gone from Rain's voice. He sounded almost sad when he answered. “I was looking for the Ascended Valley. It... still seems like home to me.”

  Sapphire's ears stood up. What a strange answer. “Well then, aren't you the adventurous type? Looking for one legend and found another.”

  “I suppose I am. I have a friend that's more the explorer than I am. I sometimes think he's seen all of Pendria, then he comes back and tells me of a new place he has found and I learn that the world is so much bigger than I had dreamed.”

  Sapphire laughed. “Ah I suppose it is. I don't meet many dragons that travel like I do. It's fitting I should meet you here, Rain, in a place people don't think exists anymore.”

  “It is!” Rain agreed in his good-natured way. “Were you looking for it? For Alsimor, I mean?”

  “No, I was looking for a cure and a purple feather to take back to my Dawn.�
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  “You do not think a warp singer's feather can cure his affliction, do you?” Rain asked, skeptically.

  “No, but it would be good for his spirit. The warp singers have been with him in his dreams his entire life. He speaks of them as heroes. I know it would mean a lot to him to see one, but...”

  “But...?” Rain prompted.

  “But I lost the amulet that lets him share my sight. I thought I could get a feather for him and at least that would be something. That's why I followed the warp singer with the lantern.”

  “Yes, and then you found the dais with Arya's heart upon it. More than you had bargained for, I imagine.”

  “Yeah... I don't think it was worth attacking me over that...” Sapphire grumbled, resentment for the blind warp singer welling up in her. She selected a pear from the bowl and sliced through the tough flesh with her claws, then licked the juices off of them.

  “Perhaps they were guarding it,” Rain offered, “and were fearful that you had come to take their songshards away. If the legends are all true, they must have been standing watch here for thousands of years.”

  “Have they spoken to you?” Sapphire asked.

  “A few times,” Rain said. “They wanted to know how I got in, why I was here, what I hoped to gain from my ill-fated adventure...”

  “Did you learn anything from them? Did they say anything about letting you go?”

  “I'm afraid I did not learn much beyond their names. The blindfolded one that chased you is called Brazen. The one that carries the compass is Blaze. I am not sure which of them is their leader. Based on your story I do not wish to meet Brazen in person. Usually it is Blaze and Tempest that come to speak with me. Oh, Tempest is the lovely one with the lantern that you spoke of. I will see what I can find out for you the next time we converse.”

  “They will have to make a decision about what to do with me soon,” Sapphire mused aloud.

  “They will...?”

  “They know I have an Arlorian focus. Eventually my strength will return and, come the day, I will blast my way to freedom. I am sure they have realized this.”

  “Sapphire, these are not ordinary cages....” Rain warned. “I have tried this, already. There is something in the metal that draws the magic away.”

  Experimentally, Sapphire reached out and touched one of the bars. The metal felt cool against the pads of her paws. There was another sensation, deeper beneath the surface. She pushed against it with her power and it did not push back, instead it drew her in, the magic flowing away uselessly. With a growl she stepped back and hit it with a silvery comet. It split across the bars like a river filtering through a field of stones. The broken bits that came out the other side sputtered uselessly against the opposite wall, sparkling and sizzling away to nothingness. The wall was left unmarred.

  “Sapphire! Be careful!” Rain implored.

  Sapphire only growled back. She fired another bolt for spite, this one against the rock wall. The burst of flame and sound did nothing to her prison, but the force of it was satisfying in its own way.

  “I will not be caged!” Sapphire shouted. She pushed her head out through the bars and shouted down the corridor. “Do you hear me? I will not be caged!”

  Someone did hear. Claws clicked along the corridor.

  “Sapphire?”

  The warp singer drew closer. Sapphire readied herself at the back of her prison.

  “Sapphire?” Rain called again, more desperate this time. “Listen to me, Sapphire. You must not try to attack them. They will not hesitate to defend themselves and they are much stronger than you. Sapphire, do you understand?”

  “I will not be caged...” Sapphire threatened.

  “Sapphire...”

  The warp singer appeared in front of the cell. He had a weary look in his eyes and lifted his head only when he saw Sapphire's aggressive posture. He growled a warning that she should not try what she was thinking of.

  Here and there his fur was singed by fire with a big patch directly across his chest. He wore a leather harness across his chest and sides. It sagged on one side; one of the straps had been burned through. A brass compass poked out from a pouch attached against his chest. Its chain clinked quietly as he walked.

  Sapphire had seen him before. He had stepped out of the tower just moments before she was struck down.

  Was he burned before? Sapphire wondered. She did not think so, but the memory was only a flash before her mind's eye, there and gone like a crack of lightning. Mostly she remembered he had looked surprised. Now he looked annoyed.

  “Come,” Blaze said in clear, crisp Pendrian. “You will speak to our council.”

  Chapter 29

  The Storm Riot

  Storm Riot, Isla Merindi, Pendric Shard

  I do not know how long it has been since we tried to excavate the greenhouses. Our first efforts ended in tragedy. Two students and my esteemed colleague Professor Almsted were crushed to death when a portion of a wall failed. After a second near catastrophe we called the whole thing off. Evelyn went missing that morning and returned in the evening with a bag of grain and corn. She is lucky to have survived. I returned to the greenhouses the next day to place a ward and found the entire place had since collapsed.

  From the Journal of Isaac Faralon

  Each night the Storm Riot rose higher above the Mistwood. It was a dark and jagged spire crowned in thunder and lightning and draped in a shroud of rain that had been falling for centuries. High on the mountainside was the ruin of the old enchantment tower. Half of it had collapsed in years past, disappearing forever beneath a forest of lush and tangling vines. Each flash of lightning outlined out in black shadow, like a dark tower of an ancient and terrible wizard.

  Timothy had to shout that any of his men stood a chance of hearing over the crashing thunder and the steady, unyielding rage of the river coursing into the otherworldly glow of the Mistwood.

  “The bridge is washed out, it's been gone for years,” Torvald said, pointing to the crushed and water smoothed remains of a stone pillar. An airman hovered over it with a lantern. Holding it up he peered into the darkness. The river roared back from the black.

  “We'll wait til morning to cross,” Timothy shouted over the din. “Make camp! Keep your powder dry! Stay out of the river!”

  The crew of the Stormbreaker was no stranger to adverse weather. Storms on the ground rarely rivaled the unbridled fury of a mountaintop in the spring. This one had been building since noon. It began with a cold mist, and by evening had turned to a downpour. Now it could drown out the Ash Strider's roar.

  All around tents began to pop up, despite the lashing wind. They were good sailors, each and every one. There would be no fire tonight. From here on it would be hard bread, citrus, and a bit of moldy cheese. Timothy ducked into his tent, Aebyn following close behind. He cut his orange in half and tossed a chunk to Aebyn. The orange disappeared quickly, rind and all.

  “Tasty?” Timothy asked, grinning.

  “I can see why the dragons like them,” Aebyn said reproachfully.

  Torvald came in a few minutes later, wind and rain blustering in through the open flaps until he tied them down. He stood dripping for a moment, toweling the water from his face with a scrap of rag that was only slightly less wet than his clothes.

  “Hell of a storm.”

  “They say it's been going on since the Shattering,” Timothy remarked. “I'm inclined to believe them. I've never seen a river like that before.”

  “What, you mean one that glows in the dark? Water's supposed to be blue, but it's not supposed to be that blue,” Torvald said.

  “That also,” Timothy agreed.

  Torvald took a deep breath, surveying the tent. Aebyn scowled at him a little, seeming most displeased by the puddle collecting around the man's feet.

  “Well then, think Willoughby's up there?”

  He's luckier than the rest of us, probably has a fire and a cooked meal,” Timothy said, chuckling ruefully.


  “Aye, that would be nice.”

  “He is probably dry also,” Aebyn said with a hint of reproach in his voice.

  Not one to miss an insult, Torvald stared the gryphon down. “You'd be just as soaked through as the rest of us if our boys didn't set your tent up first ya dainty-pawed beast. Night Warden preserve us, captain, couldn't you have found one that was part dog to bring along? That'd be a proper animal.”

  Aebyn growled.

  “Aebyn,” Timothy scolded. “You cannot ask a man to do a job in the rain and then be cross with him for coming back drenched.”

  This took the fire out of his eyes immediately. “I am sorry,” he said with some reluctance.

  Torvald grumbled, ignoring it completely. “Do we have a plan for tomorrow, captain?”

  “Tomorrow, Aebyn and I will ascend to the enchanter's workshop and see if Skalde has already arrived. If Skalde and his men are inside, we will wait for them to emerge and ambush them. If we find the place empty we will retrieve Faralon's treasure and return. If Skalde arrives before we return, kill him. If anyone tries to protect him, kill them also. We have seen the measure of his resolve and will answer it in kind.”

  Torvald nodded grimly. “And if you return with the treasure and Skalde has not arrived?”

  “We lie in wait,” Timothy promised. “We are here for Willoughby.”

  The morning sun brought light, but little warmth that could penetrate the Storm Riot's ever-present rain. The clouds seemed calmer during the day. Lightning forked less often and the sound of thunder came like distant cannons after the battle was already fought. Timothy had to shield his eyes from the rain as he looked up at the enchanter's workshop. There was no sign of life.

  Torvald oversaw the river crossing, taking advantage of Aebyn's wings to send rope across. Timothy shimmied over between two of them, pausing once at the center to look down into the tumult of water made white by its crashing and rolling over rocks long ago worn smooth as glass. Thick mud on the opposite bank grabbed at his boots until Aebyn pulled him out. There was a thick sucking sound and the holes quickly filled with foamy brown water.