The Boundless

by Peter Newman

  The path joined another wider one and Glider raced along it until a settlement could be seen up ahead. Varg was the first to recognize it as Sagan, one of Lord Rochant’s. To protect it from meeting a similar fate as Sorn, the elders had erected a gated wall around the outer perimeter, so that the only way to approach was from the Godroad. A no man’s land of scorched earth created an open space between the wall and the edge of the trees.

  Glider came to a skidding stop and began to whine. The buzzing was louder now, much louder. Chandni frowned. Despite the noise she couldn’t see the Corpseman nor any of the many creatures she could hear. It sounds like they should be all around us but there’s nothing here. Is this another trick of the trees? She considered turning back but Kennelgrove’s words were loud in her mind. Murderkind would want to know what the Corpseman was up to.

  She dismounted Glider and was about to go further when she felt Varg’s hand on her shoulder. ‘You sure about this?’

  ‘I need to have a good long look.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I need—’

  Before she could speak again the trees around her shook, their interwoven branches tugging and creaking.

  Glider whined again.

  With a great groan, the trees all disentangled and leaned back, opening their canopy to the sky. But Chandni made out no sky, just a mass of hard-edged clouds, buzzing, glistening, too close.

  Her first thought was Flykin, but they were too big, even the smallest were as big as her. Human legs and arms hung loose from their carapace, and a human head sat atop each one, though the eye sockets were empty and the jaws slack. Semi-transparent wings blurred at their backs, flickering softly, swiftly, holding them there. Then something else, something much bigger, began to descend. She recognized it instantly from the Story-singer’s tales: the Scuttling Corpseman. Its body was covered in living armour, black, save for patches of bone dotted across back and chest. She saw five plated limbs, multi-jointed, long, and a stump at the right shoulder where the sixth had once been. A human skull sat atop its shoulders, too small, almost comical against the bulk. Antennae extended out from the eye sockets. All of this, she had heard before. But none of the stories described the vast wings, nor the swirling patterns that drew the eye to them, demanding to be examined, curve after curve of organic spirals, where the end of one took the observer to the beginning of another.

  Down they came. Down like a great cloud of menace, turning the protective wall of Sagan into a kind of pen, the gates into prison doors.

  She tried to go closer for a good long look but Varg’s hand clamped down on her shoulder, hard enough to bruise. She barely noticed.

  ‘Chand!’

  She wasn’t sure how long she watched the Corpseman float down upon Sagan or how long she struggled against Varg’s grip, but at some point Crowflies flew down in front of them. It looked from her to Varg and back to her in three quick twitches, and then pecked at the meat of her leg.

  There was a flash of pain, of shock, and then sudden awareness.

  What in the name of Blessed Suns have I been doing? Focus Chandni! she told herself, tearing her gaze away.

  The two guards on the wall could have used the same advice. Their heads were still tilted upwards, with expressions both awestruck and despairing. They had lit a sapphire beacon to summon aid, and it was well known that in Lord Rochant’s absence, the other Deathless kept a close watch on Sagan. But as she looked about, she saw no Deathless of House Sapphire in either the sky or on the Godroad and not even a single hunter. The people of Sagan were alone.

  Chandni cupped her hands to her mouth. ‘Run!’ she shouted. ‘Run!’

  But the guards did not run. They did not even register her warning. Perhaps it could not be heard over the din. Perhaps they were too entranced by the hypnotic patterns on the Corpseman’s wings.

  A moment later both were plucked from their posts by giant Flykin and taken behind the wall, out of sight.

  ‘Oh fuck,’ said Varg. ‘We gotta go!’

  And they did, back into the cover of the trees. Noises followed them, of humming and buzzing, and breaking and movement. But of the human residents of Sagan, she heard no sound.

  The bed Sa-at was on was big and squishy. At first he liked it. There was lots of space to move his arms and legs, and it reminded him of the many times he’d lain in the soft earth, only this was better as his clothes stayed dry and he didn’t have to worry about getting eaten.

  When he actually tried to sleep, though, it wasn’t as good. The bed didn’t hold him in the way the friendly tree used to. It would have been better if Tal had been here to share it but despite there being plenty of room for the two of them, Win had refused, mumbling something about it being improper given his station.

  Sa-at had no idea what the old seneschal was going on about but he hadn’t argued. Instead, he’d tossed and turned and waited for his eyes to get heavy. But they didn’t. Though the day had been long and eventful, sleep would not come. To make matters worse, his mind was very active.

  He knew there was more going on than he understood. Win seemed to know some of it but Lady Pari and Lord Rochant knew more. He wondered where Lady Pari was now. Should I have gone with her? He was fairly sure that staying had been the right thing to do, and so couldn’t understand why he felt so glum about it.

  Gradually, the castle settled. Outside in the courtyard, he could hear the chatter of small groups. Their words wafted towards the window, not quite audible but of a furtive nature. He recalled the crowds when he’d first arrived and they’d sounded different. They’d been louder, more raucous. The noise had scared him at the time, but now he missed it.

  Have I only been here for one day?

  So much had changed his head span with it.

  Eventually, the number of voices thinned out and the castle fell silent. To compensate, Sa-at’s thoughts got louder.

  Why did Lady Pari say that Lord Rochant isn’t my friend? Was she playing a trick?

  Why was Win so upset when we handed Nidra over?

  Why can’t Tal be here?

  Why did that demon look like me?

  Without really thinking about it, he slid out of bed and crept out. Unlike in the Wild, the castle never got truly dark, instead it became more twinkly and soft, which he liked a lot. He ran his hands over the gemslights as he passed, making the glow dance and flicker.

  One of the guards came marching over. He looked both tired and grumpy. ‘What are you doing?’

  Sa-at shrugged.

  ‘Oh, pardon me,’ said the guard as he got closer. ‘You’re Honoured Vessel Satyendra.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  The guard frowned. ‘Yes, you are.’

  ‘No, I’m a different Honoured Vessel. I’m Sa-at.’

  ‘Sa … what?’

  ‘Sa-at. Can I ask you a question?’ The guard looked slightly confused, but nodded. ‘What’s a cell?’

  ‘It’s a room for prisoners in the deepest part of the castle. We’re keeping that thing down there now.’

  ‘Why don’t you call it a room?’

  ‘Because it’s different.’

  ‘How?’

  He watched the guard’s face squish with thought. ‘Well, a cell is made to keep people who are too dangerous to be free.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean the person inside the room doesn’t get to choose when to go in or out. The door only opens from the outside and there are no windows.’

  ‘But how does the sunslight get in?’

  ‘It doesn’t.’

  Sa-at thought about this. He’d first found Rochant when he’d been trapped in Nidra’s house. He’d been a prisoner and Sa-at had hated it. Not to be able to look where you wanted or walk where you wanted was just … wrong.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said.

  As much as the imposter bothered him, it also fascinated him. He wanted to understand it and he wanted to understand what was happening here in the castle. At first it h
ad overwhelmed him, but now the initial awe had passed, he felt frustrated. It wasn’t in his nature to sit around. It was in his nature to explore and question. After all, Rochant had told him it was important to think about things.

  Of their own accord, his feet retraced the route that Roh had taken them earlier, down into the depths of the castle. Though the corridors were empty, the castle seemed to hum to itself, which made Sa-at feel like he was in the company of a giant friendly demon.

  The evenly set gemslights came to a stop, but he found a crystal lantern hanging on the wall next to the entrance to where the cells were. He glanced about but saw nobody. After a little indecision, he took the lantern, assuring the castle that he would replace it as soon as he returned.

  It didn’t take long to reach the cells. He moved up to the first one and listened. It was very quiet but he thought he heard the soft sounds of someone asleep inside. Very carefully, he tried the door. It didn’t budge. Locked doors were new to him and the novelty was already wearing thin.

  He tried the second cell but it too was locked. Then, when the door rattled, he heard someone stir inside.

  Sa-at decided there was only one way to find out who. ‘Hello,’ he said.

  ‘It’s you, isn’t it?’ replied a young man’s voice.

  ‘Yes.’ The voice sounded familiar to him because it sounded like his own voice! ‘You’re the imposter, the one who looks like me. Who are you really?’

  ‘I have been thinking a lot about that myself but I don’t see why I should tell you anything. Why did you bother coming here? Did Rochant send you?’

  ‘But,’ said Sa-at, ‘you haven’t answered my question.’

  He heard a frustrated sigh from the other side of the door. ‘My name is Satyendra.’

  ‘I like that name.’

  ‘You would,’ came the sarcastic reply. ‘It’s yours.’

  ‘No, it isn’t, my name is Sa-at.’ But he didn’t feel as confident of that fact as normal. The guard called me Satyendra as well. Have they stolen my name and replaced it with another?

  ‘Your name,’ said Satyendra, ‘is whatever they say it is. You’ll be Satyendra from now on, at least until …’ he trailed off.

  ‘Until what?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘First, you tell me, are you proud to serve Lord Rochant?’

  ‘He’s my friend.’

  ‘And you like being his Honoured Vessel.’

  ‘It’s nice. Everyone smiles at me and makes me feel like when the sunslight is on my skin, but it’s in my heart.’ Satyendra muttered something under his breath. ‘What was that?’

  ‘I said, how lovely for you.’

  Whatever Satyendra said the first time had sounded very different. Sa-at scowled. He didn’t like being lied to.

  ‘Except,’ Satyendra continued, ‘it’s not lovely. It’s not lovely at all. Oh, they’re all smiles now. They’ll all want to be your friend and then one day …’ he brought his hands together in a loud clap. ‘Gone.’

  ‘Gone?’

  ‘Yes. Gone. You really don’t know, do you?’

  ‘I’ve only been here a day.’

  ‘Come closer to the door and I’ll tell you the truth.’

  Sa-at frowned. This felt like a trap but he couldn’t see one anywhere. Cautiously, he approached the door, and placed his ear against it. ‘I’m here,’ he said softly.

  ‘That’s better. Do you know what a vessel is?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘It’s a jug for storing liquid in. And that’s what you are. A very rare jug, except instead of liquid, you will store a soul. Rochant’s soul.’

  ‘I don’t understand. He already has a soul.’

  ‘Yes, a very old one in a very young body. When his current body gets old, he’ll need a replacement. A new vessel to house his soul.’

  Sa-at’s heart sank. He means me.

  He heard Satyendra draw in a long, deep breath. ‘Mmmmmn.’

  ‘But if Rochant’s soul goes in my body, what happens to my soul? Do we squish up together?’

  Satyendra laughed and then laughed some more. ‘That’s adorable. But no. Rochant is too greedy to share. He’ll push your soul out to make room for his.’

  ‘But what about my soul?’

  ‘Truly, I don’t know, but I’d wager nothing good. Crushed or shredded I imagine.’

  Sa-at stepped back from the door. Crushed? Shredded? ‘But … Rochant is my friend.’

  ‘Let me tell you a secret. There are no real friends in this world. Just people who want what you have. The only difference between a friend and an enemy is that a friend will rob you with a smile on their face and you’ll thank them for it afterwards.’

  ‘No, that can’t be true. He’s my friend.’

  ‘If you don’t believe me, ask anyone, they’ll tell you what an Honoured Vessel is for.’

  ‘But I don’t want my soul to be crushed!’

  ‘I completely understand. I once stood where you’re standing now.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I tried to run away, but I was caught. Escape is your only chance to live. Come closer again and I’ll tell you all the tricks. You’ll be able to slip away and Rochant will be none the wiser.’

  It won’t hurt to listen, he told himself as he stepped up to the door. Listening isn’t the same as doing anything.

  ‘That’s it,’ said Satyendra. ‘We don’t want anyone else to hear what we’re up to. Now, this is what you need to do …’

  ‘… And after that, you’re on your own,’ Satyendra concluded.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You can thank me by not getting caught. Go now, while your body is still your own.’

  He fell back from the door and sat heavily. Nidra had been right. An opportunity had presented itself and he hadn’t even had to leave his cell to find it. It had come right to him. He could still taste that delightfully bitter moment when Sa-at had realized he’d been used. He almost felt sorry for the other boy. They shared the same fate after all. True vessel or not, both were destined for destruction.

  If only I could be there to see Rochant’s face when he learns his precious vessel has escaped.

  The victorious thought was soured somewhat by the pain in his side. Though he’d taken a small amount of sustenance from Sa-at’s shock and misery, the wounds made by Rochant’s gauntlet seemed resistant to his supernatural ability to heal.

  Not long after, he heard more footsteps, soft and sure, and then the sound of a key in the lock of the adjacent cell. Satyendra pressed his ear to the door and listened as hard as he could.

  ‘My lady,’ whispered a voice, female, that he did not know. ‘Are you fit to move?’

  ‘Yes. Though I thought the days of crawling through those damned tunnels were long behind me.’

  The other woman said nothing as Nidra got to her feet.

  Satyendra knocked on the door. ‘Lady Nidra, wait. Take me with you.’

  ‘No,’ Nidra replied in a dry whisper.

  ‘You’re just going to leave me here? At least open the door. Give me a chance to escape.’

  ‘Help you? Tell me, did you impersonate Rochant for the good of House Sapphire or for yourself?’

  ‘For the house,’ he lied.

  Nidra gave a cynical bark. ‘I liked you more when you were honest and defiant. The difference between us is that I was branded a traitor and you, actually, are one. We may both have been thrown in a cell but my path and yours go in different directions now. May they both bring Rochant pain.’

  ‘At least tell me how. We still have that desire in common.’

  She paused. ‘You have the trust of Rochant’s Honoured Vessel. His last and only chance at rebirth. Kill him, and you kill Rochant.’

  ‘Why don’t you kill him?’

  ‘He already knows not to trust me. But you? You could get in close and do it easily.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Sa-at is helping me esc
ape tonight.’

  He heard her joyless laugh. ‘You think Rochant won’t just find him and bring him back? All you’ve done is waste a bit of his time, and he has plenty to spare. If you get the chance, kill the boy, and make sure to check you’ve done the job properly.’

  And with that they were gone and Satyendra was alone.

  For a while he was furious with Nidra. How could she abandon him like that, knowing what Rochant would do to him? But in the end, he couldn’t blame her. After all, what she said was true. He was a traitor and he didn’t care about House Sapphire or its people. He cared about himself. He’d only ever cared about himself and nobody had ever cared about him.

  Apart from Mother, he thought miserably. And I destroyed her for it.

  He sat down, his mind desperately turning over different ways to survive what was coming, but his options were so few, so pathetic.

  For a while, he lost himself to despair, until a faint nervousness in the air got his attention. Yes, he could sense … not fear, but … an anxiousness. Moreover, he recognized it. Sa-at was outside the door.

  ‘I’ve got the key. We can escape now.’

  Satyendra found his usual eloquence had deserted him. ‘You’re really going to help me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  His lip curled in a sneer. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because you’re like me.’

  ‘Oh, but I’m not. You’ve seen what I am.’

  ‘Yes. You’re a thing of the Wild. So am I. I thought I had family here but my father is dead and my mother has been sent away. I’m going to find her.’

  Mother! He felt a keen stab of loss. It had been a mistake to send her away. Perhaps they could find her again. But if she meets her real son, she’ll have no time for me. But then, if I found her, alone, I could tell her that my body rejected Rochant’s soul. I could tell her anything I wanted.

  ‘Do you still want to come?’ asked Sa-at.

  ‘Of course I do! Hurry up and let me out.’

  Sa-at laughed. ‘No. If you want me to let you out, you’ll have to make a deal.’

  Perhaps we are more alike than I thought. ‘What do you want? I don’t own much at the moment.’

  There was a pause on the other side of the door. ‘I don’t want your things. I want your oath.’