How Black the Sky

by T J Marquis

  Eff hmmed. "Assume, then, that I am able to help you defend Overland. Assume that I wish to. What would you have me do?"

  Pierce raised his hand. "That'd be my department, sir. I'm Pierce."

  Pierce stood and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. A king, guard, or warrior might have tensed and put a hand to his own weapon at this, but the First just watched in curiosity.

  Pierce drew the enchanted bone-melter and let its blue light bathe the room.

  Eff's eyes actually opened wider. Pierce grinned. Even this old wizard could be surprised.

  "Sev, this forgemaster who's joined us, created this color," Pierce said.

  "Well I didn't create it," Sev said sheepishly. "The Blacksmith forges all things. But I did discover the recipe."

  "Most Underlanders don't like it," said Pierce. "It either scares or angers them. I discovered this as I escaped Testadel."

  Eff cocked his head slightly and glanced at Ess. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

  "Alright. The rarest of all colors, distilled into an enchantment," said Eff. "What would you do with it? Slay Kash's forces one by one?"

  "Well sir," Pierce answered seriously, "I would enjoy nothing more. But it doesn't seem efficient."

  Agrathor chuckled.

  "I was thinking, Sev here could forge us some more blue, and you could enchant something big, something to cover all of Overland and drive the Underlanders away. Something like the sky."

  Pierce almost expected Eff to laugh, but he did not. Instead he resumed his puzzled expression and stood. He brought a hand to his silver-bearded chin, seemed to gaze through the wall again.

  "It's not a bad idea," he said at last. "And the legends do point to an aversion to brightness."

  Pierce had always known his grandmother was a genius. Vindication. He, Agrathor, and Axebourne all grinned at each other. There was hope, then.

  "But do you have any idea how much dust that will take?" asked Eff.

  "Some idea, revered wizard," said Sev. "The work will be arduous for me once the materials are secured, but I will enjoy it. Gorgonbane has already assembled a team with which to mine the silicon I require. "

  "We have?" asked Axebourne.

  "Are they not waiting at the main tower's gate?" Sev asked.

  "Huh," said Axebourne. "I suppose they are."

  "So you can do it?" Pierce pressed.

  Eff scoffed. "Of course I can do it, boy, I am the First. Enchantments of light are some of the simplest anyway. Success depends only on the volume of material available and the amount of focus I can achieve. Yes, it will be trivial. The only thing I lack is the knowledge of the forging of blue."

  "Hear that, Sev?" Pierce said, slapping his big friend on the back. "Your blue's gonna be everywhere! So, where do we start? Where do we go mining?"

  Eff deferred to Sev, but he grew a sardonic grin.

  "Down the side of the Chasm, far as I know," Sev said. "Unless anyone else knows where to mine pure silicon."

  "Can we not just dredge up sand?" Ess asked. "Must we risk the Chasm? I fear the banshees."

  Sev shook his head gravely. "It would take too long to process the silica. This is why the Chasm below the Underlands was braved in the first place. It's much quicker, if you don't die. We - Kash - has thousands of miners working the walls, from moonrise to moonrise."

  "I always wondered how Kash was so rich in enchantments," Ess said wonderingly. "Did you know this, too?" she asked Eff.

  He shrugged. "I suppose," he said. "Though I never thought of it in terms of riches. Perhaps because I am not poor in enchantment myself." He smirked.

  "Still," Ess grumbled. Pierce hadn't yet heard her speak this way to anyone. "Why allow him to grow in power, unchecked? Too, I've always wondered, why you don't simply destroy him yourself."

  "Am I a murderer, then?" Eff said.

  "He murders," said Ess. "I do not mean to equivocate, but it would be justice, not murder."

  "A debate we've had before, young one," said Eff, nodding without agreeing. "Am I the First Constable Under the Starless Sky?" he asked sardonically. Ess scoffed like a teenager. "Am I the First Arbiter of Matters Not My Own? No. I am the First Master of our grand Theory. My life is lived for our pursuit of knowledge, not for justice, even were I to call what you desire justice. My work is for the betterment of the Theory itself, which again is why I say it matters not who controls Over or the Underlands."

  "What if he were to make decrees according to his despotism?" asked Ess. "And outlaw the practice of the Theory? Or the worship of the Blacksmith?"

  Eff shrugged. "Then we would have to take action. Kill him? Perhaps. Perhaps not. The Underlord himself would be a powerful convert, don't you think?"

  Ess's eyelids had drooped. She seemed to have tired of the argument, but Pierce sensed she wasn't cowed.

  "Either way," said Eff, "we are going to make the sky blue. Why not? It could prove a stimulating challenge."

  He turned to address the forgemaster directly for the first time and paused. Sev's size seemed to surprise him as he scanned the big man.

  "This certainly is a novel occurrence," he said. "It will be a pursuit worth recording," he smiled. "Now, do you have the tools you'll need? Or will we have to make a trip into town?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  School of Mages

  As refugees from the strange invasion, it was only natural that Gorgonbane and the garrison men didn't have dangling equipment after all. Agrathor volunteered to ride back into Shiv to get what was needed, and protested only mildly when Pierce said he'd go too.

  "Sure you can keep up, kid? You know I don't sleep, right?" the bone man grumbled.

  Pierce gave Agrathor a winning smile, trying to match the skeleton's grin. "I'm good for it, sir. There's way too much going on for me to be able to sleep anyhow."

  Agrathor studied him a moment, then nodded. "Come on then, let's mount up."

  They galloped the raptorions for a time, as long as was healthy for them, then slowed to a canter to let them rest a bit. The two beasts nipped at each other playfully.

  They weren't far gone from Chasmverge when Pierce thought he heard Agrathor singing. It was a strange sound, an approximation of breath and tone, with a raspy edge that bordered on growling. It carried across the flats as well as any normal voice, clearly audible over the scraping of the raptorions' feet on the scrubby ground. He had never heard anything like it. He listened intently until Agrathor finished the song.

  "That was excellent, sir," he said after the last note died out.

  Agrathor eyed him as if he thought Pierce might be teasing, then seemed to see the earnestness on the younger man's face.

  "Thank you," Agrathor said cooly. "I never know how it really sounds anymore. It's a little echoey in here." He tapped his skull with a plonk.

  "What was it?" Pierce asked. "I didn't recognize it."

  "It was actually the long version of the Everlasting Temple's anthem. Back in school, we had to sing it at every assembly and commencement, so it got a little tiresome. Now it's been so long," he shrugged, rattling his armor, "it just brings back memories. You should hear Ess sing the harmony - it'll melt your heart."

  Pierce glanced away, hoping he wasn't blushing. Agrathor chuckled drily.

  "But she's already done that, hasn't she?" he teased. "Oh you aren't the first, boy. Even the ones that say they hate supra-gen can't keep their eyes off her."

  "So you went to school together at the Temple?" Pierce asked, trying to draw attention away from his affliction.

  Agrathor nodded. "Best in our class, I don't mind saying. My focus was in force projection. Hers, concentration and augmentation. Those were wonderful times."

  "Would you tell me about it, sir?" said Pierce. "We don't have anything else to do."

  Agrathor's flame eyes thinned out, and Pierce thought he was going to say no, but perhaps he was just approximating a squint of remembrance.

  "Ess was quite the ragamuffin when she first showe
d up. I, of course, was in my prime - strong body, beautiful long golden hair. I knew it too, and I remember looking down my nose at the girl. Me, in fancy silk clothes, clean-shaven, never lived a day without a bath."

  Agrathor put a skeletal hand to his face, as if remembering the prickle of morning stubble.

  "Ess's clothes were poor, stained, a tiny step above potato sacks, and her leather shoes were falling apart. She looked every bit a refugee of the Underlands. I was pompous enough back then that if she hadn't been supra-gen, I would have just ignored her. As it was I had to wonder how she got into the school. You either need money, or talent. I figured it was the latter, considering her dress.

  "We had scarcely stepped out of the auditorium from orientation when a big Westerling girl accosted Ess out of nowhere. Can't remember her name. Let's call her Kath.

  "'Hey blackie,' she'd said. I'll never forget the sneer on her face. 'What you up here for? Why don't you get back down where you belong and suck some muck?' Kath pushed Ess, and she fell back several steps. I might have been stuck up, but my mother taught me not to abide bullies. I braced myself to intervene. It was then that I saw that flash in her eyes, and I knew she was like me - a warrior. I think I grinned - at least I remember the sensation of it. Kath was about to get herself smashed.

  "That's not what happened," Agrathor paused. "Not exactly. Ess was tense. She wanted to fight, but something held her back. She smoothed out her ratty clothes, straightened her back, and stood as if waiting for something.

  "'What, you're mute too?' said Kath. She was angry at Ess for not falling down, I could sense it broiling. Then I saw the faintest shifting of auras, a streak of orange mist flowing from Kath to Ess. I wondered what she was up to. 'A mute blackie,' she said. 'Well come on then. You wanna stand tall, show me what you got.' Kath rushed at Ess, and the closer, the more angry she got, the more of her aura Ess collected. She held it in an enclosed fist, but I could see the orange light peeking out.

  "Kath launched a wild haymaker at Ess, but the smaller girl just sidestepped, and Kath lost her footing. When she righted herself, Ess tossed her the globe of anger as if it were a ball. Surprised and puzzled, Kath caught it. 'Wha-' she started to say, but the orb exploded without Ess's will to bind it. It blew Kath back into a wall, and I heard the crack of her ribs over her piercing scream. Ess didn't move, didn't even smile.

  "She said, quietly, 'You are still breathing because the First made me promise not to kill anyone. You can thank him at his next lecture.' And she walked away. I wasn't the only one gawking, and one of my friends said, 'I'll marry that one.'

  "Kath spent the next several days in the infirmary, and she never touched Ess again," Agrathor grinned at the memory.

  "Naturally I thought it my duty to take the girl under my wing," he said.

  Pierce smirked. "Oh, I'm sure that it wasn't that you wanted to be on her good side."

  Agrathor glanced away and said, "Certainly not. It was... the right thing to do. So I trotted up after her, told her I was impressed. 'I'm not looking for a suitor,' she said. I laughed, but I'll admit a part of me deflated. No matter, I thought, they're never caught on the first try."

  "I'll have to remember that," said Pierce.

  "Or the second, in many cases," said Agrathor. Pierce frowned.

  He almost asked Agrathor about Scythia's sister Flaila, but caught himself. The old warrior might not want to dredge up those memories just now.

  "So I abandoned my initial plan," Agrathor continued, "and instead of offering dinner away from the Temple grounds, I said I would pay for some new clothes. I remember that she eyed me for several moments, fingering the tails of her ratty men's shirt. Later on, when I realized the First had sent her to study in that state, I could hardly believe it. In that moment, I like to think I truly wanted to help a girl in need, not that I was just looking for an ally."

  "I'm sure you were being quite philanthropic, sir," Pierce said.

  Agrathor scoffed. "That's a big word... Not much schooling, you said? Keeping secrets on us, kid."

  Pierce laughed.

  "Anyhow, she agreed, and with some prodding she let me fill her wardrobe to the brim. Naturally, all the shopping left us with an appetite, so we ended up having dinner anyway."

  "Noted, sir," said Pierce.

  "Noted?" said Agrathor.

  "If they won't have dinner with you, take them shopping. You're certain to get two for one."

  "Now, kid," Agrathor started, then he saw Pierce hiding a chuckle and echoed it lowly. Pierce thought he would have smiled if he could.

  Agrathor laughed to himself. "I let myself think the days would always be like that, a little work, a little lecture, a half-day of play. Of course, when studies began, I found I was in for a rude awakening."

  A lone bird chirped in a tree as they passed, and one of the raptorions filled the silence with a grunt. It was probably getting hungry.

  "I still can't believe it's gone," said Pierce.

  "The Temple? Neither can I," said Agrathor. His green eyes dimmed.

  "I only just discovered the place. Did I tell you I'd decided to go and study after all, after we've beaten Kash?"

  Agrathor looked at Pierce closely.

  "You are just full of presumption, aren't you, kid?" He asked. "What makes you think we'll win? What makes you think they'd let you in?"

  Pierce didn't have an easy answer. Despite his bad luck, he never considered failure - what good would it do? Having a bright outlook served him much better.

  "But you would get in, I suppose," said Agrathor. "Luck or talent, I still haven't decided."

  Pierce made no comment. He was afraid if he said something, he'd ruin the civil conversation with Agrathor.

  "Well, if we don't all die, it'll get rebuilt," Agrathor said. "Beyond that, Pierce, a grand old temple isn't the only place you can learn - you should know that by now."

  "I do," said Pierce. "It just seemed like..."

  "A good adventure?" Agrathor guessed.

  "You got me, sir."

  "Well come on, we're almost there," said Agrathor. "The beasts hunger. Let's push them once more and wrap up this little errand."

  "Right behind you, sir."

  If they made good time, they could be back to Chasmverge by nightfall.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Cliff-dangling

  Pierce had never dangled before.

  He was surprised at himself to note that, actually. He'd lived near the rim for a time, and most people tried it at least once. For recreation, it was a terrible choice. Neither was it a good job. Yet it was a fundamental part of life on Overland, and he felt he would gain greater appreciation for the professional dangler after today.

  Pierce now hung from a mage-woven rope of carbon fibers that was anchored on a boulder up above. Every dangler had a spotter up on top of the plateau, as well as a horn player watching for banshees. He could already hear the awful things in the distance, shrieking dissonant songs into the void. When they noticed the danglers by Chasmverge, the banshees would come to harass them, and slay them if allowed. Gorgonbane hoped to get as much work done as possible before danger set upon them.

  Pierce didn't know a lot of songs by heart, but he did have a naturally strident tenor that he thought would come in handy here. He could probably make up a melody on the spot if he needed to.

  He began to sing, warming up his voice for the inevitable confrontation. Meanwhile, he lowered himself on the carbon rope, hammer and chisel hanging from his belt.

  Sev had said the veins of silicon were hard to spot at first. It was a reflective metalloid, with nothing to reflect but the dark of the Chasm. The danglers would have to shine their lamps on the face of the cliff, searching for anomalies foot by foot. Thankfully, the veins were plentiful, and Pierce found his first one within a few minutes of descent.

  He tugged on the rope once to signal he'd found a deposit, and his hornblower tugged back in response. Pierce took out a hammer and chisel, searching
for the boundary between metalloid and the dark stone around it.

  The stone of the cliff face was cleaner than Pierce had imagined. Perhaps the banshees neglected to defecate on these walls because they were close to the old wizard's home. There was still indication of the banshees' nasty habits, though. Streaks of dried-up guano left crusty vertical tracks on portions of the stone. At least most of it was dry. Pierce could already imagine the smell in an area the banshees had taken a shine to.

  Pierce began to chip away the stone of the cliff-face. He was supposed to excavate to a certain depth, all the way around, and dislodge the biggest chunk of silicon he could. There was a rope dangling above his head, with a bag tied to it, that would be hauled up once he'd put some of the metalloid in it.

  He liked this kind of work. Repetitive actions with a clear goal always helped him to maintain focus. It wasn't tiring, either. Most cliff-danglers were people who couldn't find a better job, even though it paid well. Typically the job was considered distasteful due to the high risk of death by banshee. Pierce couldn't speak to that yet, but so far he was thinking that if he couldn't be a professional warrior, this might be something he could stick with.

  Pierce's strength helped him to work faster than the other soldiers that had been sent over the side of the cliff. Within half an hour, he'd secured a good-sized chunk of silicon, like a slice of pie, and sent it up above.

  Not long after that, the horn sounded. It wasn't a typical horn signal, but a bright, rising melody. The soldier trumpeting actually wasn't too bad, which was good for Pierce. He turned his head out to the Chasm and saw the banshees coming. They flew in looping, erratic patterns, and there was anger in their movements.

  Pierce knew that the banshees never failed to appear. Humans weren't supposed to be in the Chasm, apparently. So the banshees asserted whenever someone dangled, or otherwise invaded the space above the Chasm. Ess had said they would even come after someone trying to fold across the gap in the earth. But why? No one had ever been able to ask, for the banshees were wild things, with bodies of both air and flesh, and they were not interested in conversation.