The Traveller's Stone

by S J Howland

  Simm swept a low bow to the table, causing some Councillors to raise their eyebrows in surprise.

  ‘Thank you for your kind invitation to address the Council,’ he began. ‘As you have entrusted me, I have now carried out a full and complete review of the Nexus upon which we all depend, with particular attention to the critical interfaces with the secondary Core which the hobs maintain.’

  Next to him, Xander heard Petros snort at this, muttering, ‘secondary?’ under his breath, and shaking his head. Simm continued on.

  ‘As the honourable Councillors would expect, I have spared no time or effort in evaluating our vulnerabilities, as recently highlighted by the most regrettable recent failure of a new node which led to a temporary but deeply concerning downturn in supply.’

  Simm carried on in this vein for several more minutes, congratulating himself with every other breath for his own hard work and attention. It was very distracting to watch him talk, as he waved his arms about to embellish his points, and the buttons on his sleeves sparkled and flashed with each gesticulation. Xander’s eyes were glazing over and several of the Council members stirred impatiently. Finally a small, sharp-faced woman with grey hair pulled back into a no-nonsense bun, sitting just to the left of Barton Ferrars, cleared her throat loudly and pinned Simm with a firm gaze. He paused for a moment and she seized her opportunity.

  ‘This is all terribly interesting, Mr Simm,’ she said, in a tone that indicated that she thought quite the opposite, ‘but the Council has a very busy schedule today. Could you please let us have the conclusions of your no-doubt thorough investigation?’

  Petros grinned and leaned towards Xander again.

  ‘That’s Enid Ingram,’ he murmured. ‘Not one to suffer fools gladly.’ His voice made quite clear who he thought was the fool.

  Simm blinked in surprise and then recovered himself.

  ‘Indeed, Councillor,’ he said, with another little bow. ‘In sum, after extensive investigation and analysis,’ he caught Ingram’s eye again, swallowed quickly and continued, ‘it is my conclusion that the Council should consider the immediate, full and final integration of the Nexus as sole provider of power to Haven.’

  Petros let out an explosive breath, but it was almost drowned out by the burst of comments from Council members and other people throughout the chamber. Chief Councillor Ferrars banged his gavel repeatedly until all noise ceased.

  ‘Order! Order in the chamber,’ he bellowed. Xander noticed that Melville and Larcius were once again deep in conversation, and the latter wore a smug smile.

  ‘Mr Simm,’ said the woman sitting on Felix Larcius’ other side. She was slender and upright, with a coldly beautiful face that reminded Xander of Larissa Larcius-Thorne’s mother. The marker in front of her named her as the representative of the Latimer family, and Xander inconsequentially remembered the comment at the Solstice Ball that the Melville, Larcius and Latimer families were so inter-married it was hard to separate them out. ‘Do we understand that you recommend that we cease all further reliance on the Hob’s Core, the traditional source of our power system on Haven?’

  Simm nodded self-importantly.

  ‘You are, as ever, entirely correct in your understanding, Councillor Latimer. It is my assessment that this is the only truly forward-looking approach for us to take. Invaluable as the hobs’ contributions have undoubtedly been in the past, one must move with the times.’ Simm’s hands waved around like a demented windmill, as he warmed to his theme. ‘Looked at objectively, impassionately, rationally and scientifically, the hobs’ technology is out of date and has become a liability. One simply cannot be sentimental about these things, however respectful one may be to tradition.’

  Next to Xander, Petros shook his head even as he scribbled frantically on his pad.

  ‘This is not good,’ he muttered. ‘Cal will be furious. Contributions, indeed! Hobs created this technology and made it available to us for thousands of years. This is insane.’

  At the Council table, Horace Peverell frowned heavily.

  ‘What you are suggesting is unprecedented, Simm. Do you not think this is rather precipitous? We may do ourselves and our allies, the hobs, a grave disservice to take such a dramatic step over what only amounts to a few minor glitches. I generally distrust such hastiness.’

  Several other Councillors began to nod at this and Simm leant forward, his face assuming what he meant to be a sympathetic look, but which actually just made him look faintly constipated.

  ‘Oh, of course, Councillor Peverell, it is most natural and admirable to feel that way,’ he oozed unctuously. ‘One cannot but feel for the hobs in their unfortunate plight after such tragic losses, however one cannot hark back to a past long gone. It is our duty as engineers (Petros’ head shot up at this, with a bemused ‘him?’) to look to the future, to be progressive and to offer solutions for our time.’

  Simm clasped both hands together, overcome by his own rhetoric, and his buttons flashed blindingly again.

  There was another stir around the chamber and this time Ferrars did not check it, instead making a quick motion which caused all of the Councillors to lean across the table for a brief, urgent consultation. Clearly the acoustics in the chamber could be manipulated, as all Xander could hear was a low murmuring, masked by the rushing sound of general conversation in the room.

  After several minutes, during which Simm continued to preen up on his podium while Latchet stood guard, bristling with self-importance, Xander suddenly noticed a third person standing waiting just below Simm. It was the man he had seen at the Nexus, the quiet, brown-haired man clutching a clipboard who was so nondescript he seemed to fade back into the woodwork. As he stared, Xander realised that the man’s lips were moving very slightly, and assumed that he was quietly addressing Simm in the interval.

  Ferrars’ gavel came down again. Looking back at the table, Xander noticed that Larcius was frowning, although Melville’s face was smooth and expressionless.

  ‘Four in favour of the proposition before the Council, four against and three undecided on preliminary consideration,’ announced Ferrars. Whispering broke out across the chamber as he continued. ‘Therefore, it is our decision that further monitoring shall be carried out by Mr Simm on our behalf and he will report back to this Council in one month’s time or sooner if the circumstances warrant it. This matter is concluded.’

  Petros leaned back in his chair and closed his notebook.

  ‘Well,’ he said, glancing sideways at Ollie, Len and Xander, ‘I suppose that could have been worse. A brief reprieve in any event.’ He slipped his notepad in his pocket and stood up. ‘I need to get back to the Nexus and brief Cal. We’d better hope that there aren’t any more outages or there’ll be no stopping that buffoon.’

  When he had gone, Xander exchanged glances with Len and Ollie.

  ‘I have a feeling that the hobs aren’t going to be too happy with this,’ he said quietly.

  Ollie nodded. ‘You’re not wrong,’ he said. ‘Maybe this is why they’re pinning all their hopes on some ancient bloodline coming back to save them?’

  Len, who had been silent until this point, looked up.

  ‘Save them from what, though?’ she asked. ‘They talked about an enemy before. Who’re the bad guys this time?’

  They all looked at one another and then Xander leaned over the balcony again, only to meet the cold eyes of Felix Larcius as he glanced up and then away again dismissively.

  ‘Who stands to benefit from their losses?’ he asked shortly, and Len’s eyes widened with quick understanding.

  ‘Come on,’ said Ollie, getting to his feet. ‘I think we’ve seen enough.’

  Silently, they all walked down the stairs to the reception hall again, only to be almost mown down by the flamboyant figure of Lester Simm. Latchet was staggering some distance behind, loaded down with folders, and Simm swept past without a glance at the three.

  ‘Come Gage, we have much to do,’ he declared to the quiet, brown
-haired assistant walking at his side.

  Xander’s gaze idly followed them, wondering what it was about the plain-looking man that bothered him. He was startled when the man glanced up and then stared right back at him, his eyes intent, before disappearing into the crowd with Simm. The sense of malice and threat he left behind, however, lingered in Xander’s mind for much longer.

  *

  When Xander came down to the kitchen the next morning, the screen on the wall was showing a news station, and he paused for a moment to listen as the presenter announced further minor power outages affecting several of the Guilds overnight. There was also coverage about the outcome of the Council session the day before, and the segment finished with dire predictions about what was likely to happen if the outages continued. Mrs Stanton was kneading dough at the table and she shook her head in exasperation.

  ‘It would be more helpful if they confined their ‘news’ reporting to actual news rather than wild speculation,’ she said to Xander with a quick roll of her eyes.

  ‘Some of the Councillors seemed keen for Thorne’s Nexus to take over everything,’ Xander said. ‘What would happen to the hobs if the Council decided to do that?’

  Mrs Stanton paused. ‘It’s more about their access to their Core,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘To be honest, the Nexus already provides most of the power used these days by the Guilds and households; it’s been expanding its infrastructure over the past twenty years. If Thorne decides that a contagion from the Core is affecting the Nexus, and persuades the Council of that, it may get difficult. The hobs aren’t very inclined to co-operate these days.’

  ‘The hobs think it’s the other way around. They believe the Core is being damaged by Thorne’s Nexus, though,’ objected Xander. ‘That’s what they said to us the other day.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure they’ll all get to the bottom of it; Callan Reeve is incredibly talented, whatever I may think about his employer.’ Mrs Stanton sniffed contemptuously at the mention of Perrin Thorne and returned to her kneading, while Xander turned to get some breakfast.

  He was glad he had got up early when Ari appeared at the door for another training session a few minutes later. In his spare moments over the last couple of days he had practiced his control and his defensive warding, and he was keen to demonstrate his prowess and hopefully learn something new. Ari, however, looked rather more serious than usual and exchanged a few murmured words with Mrs Stanton before turning to Xander.

  ‘It won’t be a long lesson today,’ she said. ‘We’ve had more issues with border security overnight. Come on outside and I’ll take you somewhere where you can stretch your abilities a bit.’

  Once out on the terrace, Ari held out her arm and jumped them away with no further explanation. As usual, there was a sharp lurch as they arrived and Xander’s knees sagged, before he looked around to see where she had brought him this time. They were in woodland again, near the ruins of a large tower, mostly now reduced to large blocks of stone scattered with an odd randomness amongst the undergrowth. It was a rather desolate-looking place and Xander looked curiously at Ari, wondering why they were here.

  Ari beckoned him forward towards the ruins and smiled at his blank look.

  ‘Welcome to the Folly,’ she said, waving at the remnants of the old tower. ‘It was built by a somewhat eccentric member of the Lisle family several hundred years ago but it’s been derelict for ages. We’re actually in London here, in one of the great parks.’ She pointed across the glade to where an old track led away through the woods. ‘If you follow that path, it will lead you pretty much straight through to the South Gates. Normally I’d bring you here by the gate, but I don’t have a lot of time today.’

  ‘What’s been happening with the border?’ asked Xander.

  Ari frowned. ‘It’s just not holding,’ she said. ‘Shades aren’t yet breaking through completely like they did in the museum, but there’ve been some manifestations. It’s concerning. Border security is tied somehow to the hobs’ Core and we know that there are problems there.’ She shook her head. ‘Flint’s at the Nexus now, trying to find out what’s going on.’

  ‘What are shades exactly?’ asked Xander. He had never had a straight answer about this, although his memory of them was disturbingly vivid, and in some ways he was in two minds about finding out more about them.

  ‘To be honest, no-one really knows,’ Ari answered with a grimace. ‘They seem to be pure expressions of chaos, terror and pain, but we don’t know whether they’re actually conscious themselves or where they come from. It’s not like we can communicate with them, and anyone who gets too close ends up either dead or incapable of describing what they experienced. You saw poor old Alvin.’

  Xander nodded.

  Ari eyed his pale face and changed the subject.

  ‘Anyway, we came here because it’s used for young Travellers to practice and build their stamina and control. Watch.’

  As Xander stood beside her, Ari lifted her hand and her orb flared. At once, one of the large stone blocks lying on the ground lifted into the air and hung unsupported in the middle of the clearing. A moment later, another block joined it, and then another and another. Xander gazed in awe as the enormous chunks of stone floated as lightly as dandelion seeds in the air, rotating gently before sinking back down to the ground. Xander suddenly understood why the scattering of stone blocks looked so random; they were not lying where they had toppled from the old tower, but where generations of young Travellers had dropped them.

  Ari turned to him with one of her quick smiles, and a quirk of her brow.

  ‘Come on then, prodigy,’ she said with a hint of challenge. ‘See how you do with those.’

  Xander frowned at the massive blocks of rough stone and then focussed his attention on one of them, visualising lifting it up as easily as the daisies at Woodside. He raised his hand, and saw his orb flare into bright light, even as the block began to rise into the air. It trembled as Xander held it there, and he could feel a distinct strain on his muscles as if he was holding it up physically, although it was far too heavy for him ever to do that. He held his breath, trying to stabilise it, even as he reached for another of the blocks to lift. It was too much and both blocks dropped to the ground with solid thuds. Xander winced and glanced over at Ari, expecting to see her looking disappointed. Instead, she beamed at him and shook her head.

  ‘Always a surprise, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘Most people struggle to lift anything their first few times. That was brilliant, but maybe just try to hold one steady at a time before adding any extras. It’s like using any new muscle – you need to build up your strength.’

  Xander smiled, relieved at her encouragement, and focussed again on his first block. It floated up easily this time, and the resulting tension in his muscles felt more familiar as he just concentrated on supporting it in the air. A few moments later, he almost dropped it when Ari startled him by clapping.

  ‘Very impressive,’ she said, her eyes alight with approval, and then she laughed. ‘You’ve certainly come a long way from the kid we picked up in a back alley in Fountain Square.’

  Xander grinned at her.

  ‘That was the maddest day of my life,’ he confessed. ‘Only beaten by every single day since then, of course.’

  As his thoughts ran back to his arrival in Haven, he considered again the mystery surrounding Roran Thorne’s assistance that day, and then eyed Ari speculatively. The red-headed Traveller was generally friendly and approachable, and he wondered whether she would be more forthcoming than Flint.

  ‘Ari?’ he said casually, as the block revolved ponderously just in front of him. He glanced over to where she was sitting cross-legged on one of the larger stones. ‘Why did Flint send Roran Thorne to collect me? He doesn’t exactly seem friendly to the Travellers, and he was pretty rude about Flint.’

  Ari’s eyebrows shot up and she looked startled, before she shook her head with a quick, rueful smile.

  ‘You don’t miss much, do yo
u?’ she said wryly. ‘We had no choice about the location you ended up. That Stone was unfamiliar and the only symbol any of us recognised was one that corresponded to an old civic building. It was sold off centuries ago, and went through a lot of different hands before Perrin Thorne bought it for his company twenty years ago. You came out of one of the back entrances of the building into that alley, but you’ve probably seen the Thorne Store at the front. Bright lights, very sparkly.’

  Xander thought it over. ‘But that still doesn’t explain why Roran Thorne would do Flint a favour,’ he said, with a frown. ‘He didn’t seem very happy about it either.’

  Ari sighed. ‘He wasn’t exactly doing Flint a favour,’ she said evasively, before giving Xander a straight look. ‘I wouldn’t normally talk about this, but I don’t want you asking questions and raking over old hurts. Roran Thorne is Rafe’s grandson.’

  ‘Huh?’

  This was the last thing that Xander had expected, and the large block thudded to the ground. He pulled a chagrined face as Ari shook her head at him, one eyebrow raised.

  ‘Concentration is important, Xander,’ she said pointedly, before sighing again and continuing. ‘Rafe’s daughter didn’t take to Traveller life. I was too young to know her but supposedly she was limited in her abilities, and rather than stay on with us she went off and got involved with one of the Guilds. Anyway, that was how she met Perrin Thorne and they ended up getting married, against the wishes of her family, who really didn’t like Thorne.’

  Xander pulled a face. ‘I can understand that,’ he said.

  Ari shrugged. ‘Anyway, Roran was born and the family tried to make the best of it as Rafe didn’t want to lose all contact with his only grandson. This went on for a few years and then that epidemic hit; Rafe’s daughter was one of the people who died. Thorne had made his fortune by then, the Nexus was taking off and he didn’t waste any time in marrying again, this time into a Founding Family. He claimed that he wanted Roran to have a mother but still, it was quick and there’s no doubt he had his eye on moving up socially and politically. Venetia Larcius-Thorne is an unmitigated snob and the last thing she wanted was some socially-embarrassing Traveller grandfather hanging around. She cut him out of their lives as much as she could and influenced Roran to do the same.’ She pulled a disgusted face and then looked over at Xander. ‘Rafe has very limited contact with his grandson, and it wasn’t easy for him to ask a favour like that. Don’t talk about it round him, will you? No point in making it worse.’