by Den Patrick
‘Maybe.’ Steiner shrugged.
‘It was the same for me when I came here.’ She set down the mug she was cleaning and came closer, though the bar lay between them. ‘I’m Lidija.’ She presented her hand palm up and a tongue of fire sparked to life. Steiner’s eyes widened; he hadn’t seen anyone manifest the arcane since Virag. Lidija closed her fingers and the flame disappeared.
‘You came here to avoid Invigilation,’ said Steiner.
‘They’d already taken my sister while we were in Vannerånd. My parents couldn’t bear to lose another child, so we took new names and moved here. Somehow it worked.’
‘And that’s why you weren’t working last night,’ added Steiner.
Lidija nodded. ‘A little bird told me the Exarch was coming. I hear things from time to time.’
Steiner smiled. ‘You want to share any of them?’
‘I heard an army of children used the arcane in the streets of Virag to fight Imperial soldiers.’
‘It was hardly an army,’ replied Steiner with a puzzled smile. It was strange to him that stories could grow out of all proportion and how fast they could travel.
‘And I heard of a man, seven feet tall, who could smite an Imperial soldier with a single blow from his sledgehammer.’
‘I’m a few inches short of six foot, but don’t let the details get in the way of a good story.’ They laughed and a companionable silence settled in around them.
‘They will kill you, Steiner,’ said Lidija gently.
‘I know.’
‘And everyone you have ever cared about.’
‘That’s why we have to rise up,’ said Steiner. ‘That’s why we can no longer hide.’ Lidija’s eyes were full of sadness, but the sadness was not for herself.
‘This is no small thing. The Emperor has reigned for over seven decades. There are doubts he can be killed. They say he is no longer human.’
Steiner’s thoughts drifted to Nils.
Tell me you’ll kill him, dragon rider. Tell me you’ll smash his black soul with your great hammer.
‘You say you hear things from time to time?’ he asked. Lidija nodded. ‘Well, be careful. We approached a man called Tikhoveter in Virag, but the Empire killed him before he could get much information for us.’ Lidija became pale. ‘I’m sorry,’ said Steiner. ‘Did you know him?’
She shook her head. ‘Only as a name, a voice on the wind, and rarely at that.’
‘He told us about a mercenary company here, in Slavon.’
‘I know, it was I that discovered them. Just shadows and rumours mainly. They were camped in the forest like brigands for a time, but no one has spoken of them lately.’ Steiner swore softly under his breath. ‘Friends of yours?’
‘One of them.’ He placed the wooden mug back on the bar and gave thanks.
‘Be careful not to wake your sister,’ said Lidija.
Steiner smiled. ‘Who told you she was my sister?’
‘My husband. He said you seemed like two kids vying for your father’s attention. Did he read you wrong?’
Steiner frowned. ‘She’s not my sister.’
‘Forgive me,’ replied Lidija. ‘I’m sure your father is very proud of you. You’ve no need to seek his approval.’
Steiner nodded and forced a smile to hide his shame, then left the room to trudge up the stairs to his room. Approval. The word weighed heavily on him.
‘And you’re sure the Exarch has gone?’ said Marek. He’d joined Kristofine and Steiner in their room later that morning. They were all bleary-eyed, legs aching from the many miles covered in the last few weeks.
Steiner nodded. ‘The innkeeper’s wife told me. We can trust her. She’s called Lidija.’
‘Making new friends?’ said Kristofine. ‘Should I be jealous?’
Steiner smiled. ‘Well, I am a famous folk hero now. I’m likely to attract attention from time to time.’
Kristofine snorted an exasperated sort of laugh. ‘Well, you’re in better spirits today.’
‘Thank Frejna for small mercies,’ said Marek.
‘I have an idea,’ said Steiner, ‘but it’s not without risk.’
‘Every day is a risk,’ said Kristofine with a shrug.
‘I promised Kimi to spread word of Vladibogdan in the hopes we could start some sort of uprising, and I’m keen to find Felgenhauer.’
‘And you think she’s close by?’ asked Marek.
Steiner shook his head. ‘I don’t know, but if we stay here, in Vostochnyye Lisy, and tell our story, maybe Felgenhauer will come find us.’
‘And maybe the Empire will find us first,’ said Marek.
‘I did say it would be a risk, but we can achieve two things at once.’ Steiner looked at Marek and Kristofine’s grim expressions. ‘If Frøya smiles on us,’ he added.
‘She’d need to smile a lot,’ said Marek.
‘You really want to find this aunt, don’t you?’ said Kristofine.
‘It must have been terrible for you to lose your mother,’ said Steiner.
‘Of course,’ replied Kristofine. ‘But what does that have to do with Felgenhauer?’
‘I never knew my mother, or at least I can’t remember her. Felgenhauer is a link to her, I suppose.’
Marek shook his head. ‘You can’t be sure we can trust her. Felgenhauer always looked out for herself.’
‘No,’ replied Steiner, in a quiet yet firm voice. ‘I wouldn’t have survived Vladibogdan without her.’
Marek frowned. ‘That’s as maybe but—’
‘And she has men and she wields the arcane,’ continued Steiner. ‘We need her.’
‘I can see your heart’s set on this,’ said Marek. He opened the door and left the room with a grim look on his grizzled face.
‘So we’ll tell this story then?’ said Steiner. ‘Tonight?’
Kristofine grabbed his hand and squeezed it. ‘I much prefer it when you’re excited about a terrible scheme that will get us killed.’
‘Prefer it to what?’ said Steiner.
‘The endless sulking. You’ve been acting like a whipped dog for weeks.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Steiner, looking down. ‘Growing up in Cinderfell as the illiterate blacksmith with a pariah sister never did my confidence much good. I guess there’ll always be a part of me doubting myself. And this storytelling thing, well, I reckon it just plays into those fears. Makes me feel like I’m illiterate all over again.’
‘Illiterate?’ Kristofine frowned. ‘After all the things you’ve achieved and the victories you’ve won, and you’re still worrying about letters and numbers.’
Steiner chuckled and held Kristofine’s hand a little tighter.
‘We’ll tell this story of yours tonight,’ she continued. ‘And we’ll tell it together.’
‘We can do this,’ said Steiner. ‘I know we can do this.’
‘What is it that he finds so objectionable about Felgenhauer?’ asked Kristofine. She lay against him, drowsing in the late afternoon. Rehearsals had been set aside and the windows of the small room had steamed up. Steiner had been able to forget his worries for a time.
‘My father? I’ve no idea. He’s not said much about her.’ Steiner cast his mind back. ‘Perhaps there’s more to it than he’s letting on.’
A loud knock on the door made them both start and Steiner was already half out of bed when his father’s voice called from the other side.
‘Dinner will be served in half an hour. I’ll see you two down there.’
‘See you down there,’ Steiner called back.
They made their way to the bar and settled in at the same table as the previous night. Marek nodded to them both but said nothing and Kristofine blushed and looked away. Food was ordered and provided a welcome distraction from the evening’s storytelling. Steiner ate as well as he could, but in truth his gut was knotted with nerves.
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Kristofine. Lidija approached the table with three tall wooden mugs of ale and set them down.
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‘You’re sure about this?’ said Marek to her.
Lidija nodded. ‘What will be will be. Tell your story. I’m tired of hiding.’ She looked around the room and sighed. ‘And if a rebellion is going to start somewhere, well, it may as well be here.’
Steiner finished his food, knocked back half his ale, and lurched to his feet. His hand strayed to his sledgehammer, hanging from a loop on his belt.
‘You’ll be great,’ said Kristofine, though Marek’s expression made it clear he didn’t share her optimism. Steiner held his hand out and Kristofine took it with a frown and a smile.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Marek.
‘You told me there’s no need to fight among ourselves,’ said Steiner. ‘Her Solska is better than mine, her storytelling is better than mine, and Kristofine’s a damn sight nicer to look at.’ He pulled her to her feet and squeezed her close. ‘We’re telling the story together.’
Marek nodded with a satisfied smile on his face and raised his mug.
‘At last, the dragon rider talks some sense.’
‘What changed your mind?’ said Kristofine as they crossed the bar. ‘I thought you wanted to be the one to tell your story.’
Steiner leaned close to her with a smile. ‘The innkeeper thought we were brother and sister vying for our father’s attention.’ He nodded to Marek. ‘And that’s when I finally realised, I’m not in competition with you, we’re in this together. You’re good at some things and I’m better at others. I don’t have to resent you for that.’
‘And it took you Frejna knows how many weeks to work that out?’ said Kristofine, shaking her head.
‘Sorry. You know better than most that I’m slow to catch on.’
She kissed him right there at the bar and Steiner kissed her back. The kiss lasted longer than either intended and a great call went up as the locals cheered them on. ‘That got their attention,’ said Kristofine, looking around the inn with a rueful smile.
‘Maybe we should start with that every time?’ said Steiner with a grin. Kristofine nudged him in the ribs, then stepped forward and held up her hands for silence.
‘Gentlefolk of Vostochnyye Lisy,’ said Kristofine in Solska. Her voice carried over the hubbub of the crowd and the many people settled down. ‘And the not-so-gentlefolk of Vostochnyye Lisy.’ A great roar went up from the patrons and laughter followed after it. ‘I come to you all the way from Nordvlast with a tale to tell. The hearing of it will not be easy, but I stand before you with the man I love and truth in my heart. Who will listen?’
The crowd mumbled their assent, less raucous now, their curiosity outweighing their wariness.
‘Who among you have lost children to Invigilation?’ asked Kristofine. ‘Because that is how our tale began in the tiny town of Cinderfell way up on the north-western coast of Vinterkveld.’
It was not the beginning Steiner had hoped for, but the room became still and no one spoke. One man departed, slamming the door as he left. Steiner stepped forward.
‘I always knew my sister was different,’ he said in Solska. ‘But I loved her all the same. The Vigilants came as they always do and something strange happened.’
Kristofine took over the tale, weaving in the hammer brooch that kept Kjellrunn’s witchsign hidden. She described Shirinov and Khigir and the events that followed, how Steiner had been turned away from her father’s tavern, and how they had shared the night in the barn. She nodded to Steiner and he stepped forward.
‘And here’s the thing I learned: the children of Solmindre and the Scorched Republics are not killed by the Empire. They are taken by ship to a remote island. Their powers are pressed into service by the very Empire that would have you shun them.’ The room broke out in a series of disbelieving conversations and Steiner worried they had lost the crowd.
‘These children,’ said Kristofine, holding up her hands for quiet once more, ‘your children, abhorred, hated and reviled for their differences, are turned into Vigilants. Vigilants like the one you saw just last night in this very spot.’
‘We need to tell them about the cinderwraiths and the dragons too,’ said Steiner quietly, but Kristofine shook her head.
‘We’ve given them plenty to think on. Let’s not overdo it.’
‘And what of the garrison up in the mountain pass?’ shouted a man from the back of the room. ‘I suppose that was you too.’
‘It depends what you heard,’ said Steiner, fixing the man with a hard stare.
‘I heard a father and son were seen cleaving through soldiers.’ The man stepped forward, long red hair and beard worn in plaits, his leather trousers and boots battered by the weather. Steiner held up his sledgehammer for all to see.
‘Not much chance of cleaving anything with this.’ That earned him a few chuckles. ‘But I was there.’
‘If that’s so then where’s your father?’ said the plaited man.
Marek stood up from the table beside the fire.
‘I was there,’ he said. ‘I fought those black-armoured devils, shoulder to shoulder with my son. I’ve never been more proud of him.’
‘It’s true,’ said an older man with silver-white hair. ‘I came through the pass just last week on my horse. Not a soul there, just ashes and bones.’
The crowd responded warmly. A few of the men raised their fists and roared words that sounded part war cry and part exultation. Other patrons conferred with their friends, the shock giving way to a thrill of excitement that such a thing could happen.
‘I think the story is taking root,’ Steiner said to Kristofine, feeling a great swell of relief.
‘And some will pass it on to their friends and so on.’ She flashed him a smile and slipped an arm around his waist. ‘Your legend grows.’
Marek approached with a hint of a tear in the corner of his eye as the room was filled with the sounds of clapping and shouts of defiance and joy.
‘You did it,’ said Marek, clapping his son on the shoulder. He leaned forward and kissed Kristofine on the forehead.
‘We did it together,’ said Steiner. ‘The three of us. I’d do well to remember that.’
The door at the back of the inn opened and shout of alarm went up. There was a wet sound followed by a thump and Steiner knew in his very bones that someone had been killed.
‘Soldiers!’ shouted someone. The room became a blur of motion, and through the chaos Steiner watched Exarch Zima enter the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Kimi
Twelve of them came as the mist swirled and retreated. Twelve hunched and sinister forms, sprinting and hobbling and scrambling forward.
‘That’s your bright idea?’ said Tief, drawing his blade with a grim expression. ‘Light a torch?’
‘It worked on the Grave Wolves, didn’t it?’ said Kimi. She struggled with the flint and tinder as the gholes rushed ever closer.
‘Grave Wolves remember enough of their old lives to be afraid of fire,’ said Tief. ‘I’m not sure these things are afraid of anything.’
‘They can be scared of me,’ intoned Marozvolk. She sang something under her breath and her skin shimmered with the subtle arcane transformation. Marozvolk drew her sword and said nothing more, staring down the undead creatures with a flinty resolve. The gholes had covered the half mile with unsettling speed.
‘We don’t have time for this,’ said Tief. ‘Draw your sword and get ready to fight.’
‘Come on,’ whispered Kimi. The torch began smoking then burst into flames as the priestess of Frejna blew gently on the flint and tinder. ‘Thank you,’ said Kimi. Tief glared at his sister but the moment was lost as the gholes rushed at them from all sides. Marozvolk used her left arm as an improvised shield as one of the gholes raked her with both hands. The claws shredded her jacket but the skin beneath remained resolute. Marozvolk replied with a sword thrust to the guts, then ripped the blade free and smashed the crosspiece into the creature’s face, sending the ghole sprawling in the swamp with a splash.
Tief did not have the luxury of Marozvolk’s stony skin. He parried his attacker’s foul and fetid claws, once, twice, then staggered backwards under the onslaught. In desperation he dodged to the side, swinging wildly. The blade bit into the back of the ghole’s skull as it lunged forward. There was a jarring crunch before the creature fell face-first into the brackish water.
It was Taiga that Kimi was most concerned about, but her fears were misplaced. A ghole had circled around their small group and raced up behind in jerky strides, desperate to extinguish the lives of all. Taiga turned to the creature and crossed her blades. In her left hand she bore a sickle, while in her right she wielded a slender dagger. The ghole hesitated at the sight of this, then staggered. Taiga intoned a long stream of strange words, each syllable forcing the undead creature to its knees. Taiga rushed forward and sliced the ghole across the throat with the sickle before thrusting the dagger into the darkness of the hood. The ghole screeched pitifully, holding up twisted claws to its mangled face. Taiga withdrew the dagger and slashed with the sickle once more. The ghole stiffened, then slumped onto its side, its head rolling loose.
Kimi found herself beset by two of the hooded horrors. Slashing claws were batted aside with a flurry of clumsy parries. She was painfully aware she might stumble in the uncertain footing of the swamp. Kimi stepped to one side, using one creature as an obstacle to the other, even if only for a second. She dropped to one knee and hacked at the leg of the nearest ghole, then thrust upwards with the torch as her attacker fell forward. For a moment the flames were buried in the mouldering fabric of the ghole’s robes and Kimi doubted her plan after all. A heartbeat later and the ghole was shaking and screaming. It lurched backwards and limped away, batting at its smoking hood.
Tief parried and ducked the claws of two gholes. He was losing ground, being separated from the group, but Kimi was powerless to prevent it.
‘Tief!’ she called out, hearing the desperation in her voice.
‘Frejna’s teeth,’ growled Tief as a claw raked across his shoulder, snagging in the fabric of his heavy coat. Taiga stepped in before him, crossing her blades again, the sickle and dagger dark and bloody against the pale sky. Again she made an invocation to Frøya, her expression stern as more strange syllables did their arcane work. The gholes attacking Tief stumbled sideways as if hit by a cart. One clutched its hooded head and splashed face down into the swamp. Tief grabbed the other ghole by its wrist and hacked at the creature’s throat until the head came free.