The Boundless

by Peter Newman

  Shrieks and clicks and violence faded away.

  Time faded away, taking conscious thought with it.

  It was peaceful. His eyes were moving with the patterns. The Birdkin were moving the same way, all together, in one big mindless harmony.

  Chandni had thought there was someone behind her. A figure she’d seen before, that she knew. They had appeared from nowhere and had then vanished just as quickly, leaving demons with human shapes and insect wings in their place. This new enemy was everywhere. In front, behind, to the left and right, on her level, above; too many for her brain to manage.

  For every demon there were a dozen Birdkin, pecking and slashing, but in a frenzied way. The buzzing of the swarm was painful to her ears and it seemed to drive everything else mad.

  She caught a glimpse of Varg running towards her, then he was obscured by angry flying bodies, then another glimpse, closer now but with blood on his face. Something flashed by, too fast to see, and Varg stumbled, then vanished from view again, what little light there was flickering madly, weakly, between the struggling figures.

  ‘Varg!’ she shouted, though even she didn’t hear it over the other noises. ‘Varg!’

  Then, miraculously, he was back, still running towards her, running so fast, she realized he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  ‘Varg?’

  He ducked down, putting his shoulder into her stomach, and took her with him. Abruptly, her view changed from the fighting to Varg’s back as the breath whooshed from her body.

  Something made Varg lurch to the side but he kept going, on and on, until all of a sudden, she was aware they were moving clear of the fighting. The buzzing, though still horrible, was less invasive. Free of the sound, her mind started working once more and she tried to lift her head to see what was happening.

  But it was no use, the trees and dark conspired to hide everything. All she knew for sure was that the fighting continued, fast and fierce, and that she was powerless to do anything about it.

  Something had interposed itself between Sa-at and the Corpseman’s wings. A big, scary, familiar, friendly shape, but flowing faster than he’d ever seen it move. It is Murderkind, he thought sluggishly. Murderkind is fighting.

  His eyes still slavishly tried to trace the patterns he’d been looking at, but he couldn’t recall the lines properly. As their image faded from his mind he blinked, then blinked again, his thoughts slowly becoming his own once more.

  Gradually, he became aware of the terrible noise all around.

  He lay on his side, curled up into a ball. He hurt in several places. He was bleeding! Sa-at knew that he had to do something about this but everything still felt strange and surreal like a dream.

  ‘Crowflies?’ he murmured. Always in the past, his friend had been there when he’d got hurt, ready to tut and shake its head and pinch shut the wounds.

  He blinked again.

  Three angry blue eyes were staring back at him. They were in a triangular formation and had opened in Murderkind’s back.

  Like his own, these blinked too, vanishing one by one to reappear with breathtaking speed, but in different places.

  The eyes are moving?

  With horror, he realized they weren’t eyes at all. They were spear tips of sapphire, their touch anathema to the things of the Wild.

  Murderkind began to change. A lump twisted free of its shoulder and fell to the floor next to him. It was a Birdkin, dead, the compound eyes smoking and sightless. A second followed the first, then a third, and more, as the great demon prince collapsed in pieces.

  Murderkind? No!

  The three spears remained lodged in what was left of Murderkind, leaving the Corpseman’s hands free to scoop Rochant from the floor. When it leapt into the air, the swarm flew to join it, and they ascended together.

  Sa-at could not help but watch, mesmerized by the sight.

  So absorbed was he in the beating of the Corpseman’s wings, that he barely noticed that Rochant was looking down at him; nor did he register that Rochant was speaking and urgently pointing his way.

  When the swarm flew off to be swallowed by the night, he did not realize that one had stayed behind, and was coming back.

  Only when it landed in front of him did he snap back to consciousness. But his legs refused to obey his commands and he lay there, helpless as the demon reached down for him. In places, its skin was soft like his own, in others it had been replaced with a hard, black shell. It lifted Sa-at as easily as if he were a feather, and with a single leap, sailed above the level of the canopy.

  His first instinct was to struggle and fight, but as they rose higher, it was matched by a fear of falling. The wind blew his hair behind him in a horizontal line, chilling his skin and making his eyes water. Then, something violet flashed up to meet them.

  Another Deathless, armoured as Rochant had been, but in different colours and softer edges. A Deathless that he had met before. Pari, the lady with the golden lips! She kicked off from a tall oak to fly straight for them. She was calling to him, but he couldn’t make out the words.

  He stretched out a hand towards her.

  She echoed the gesture, the gap between them closing rapidly.

  The demon immediately swerved away, so that her gauntleted fingers closed inches away from his.

  He stretched and reached again, but it was too late, her upward momentum had already run out, leaving her to glide in their wake, not falling, but not climbing either.

  Suddenly, there was a whip in her hand, flicking out towards the demon. The barb stung its foot, causing a hum of alarm, but it did not find purchase, slipping out of the wound as easily as it had slipped in.

  And then they were too high and too fast for her.

  Sa-at watched with a sinking heart as the glowing figure got smaller and smaller, lower and lower, until she was swallowed up by the darkness of the Wild.

  Branches snapped and trees groaned as Pari broke through the canopy to land heavily on the forest floor.

  Despite pushing herself for hours, she’d arrived too late. The Scuttling Corpseman had come and gone, taking Rochant with it. She hadn’t even managed to save Sa-at.

  For a few minutes she did nothing but catch her breath.

  Even exalted in her armour, there were limits. She did not have it in her to chase the swarm, and alone there was no point in pursuing. So she waited, panting and muttering to herself.

  She was still doubled over, her hands on her thighs, when Arkav came bounding through the trees. He skidded to a stop next to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘You know, my dear,’ she said. ‘This habit of arriving after the event is most unbecoming.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but someone had to tend to our people when you rushed off. I’ve sent them home. They’ll be safer there.’ He frowned up at the night sky. ‘For now, at least.’

  She shook her head. ‘I wasn’t fast enough, Arkav.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Other people might be expected to mess up on occasion, but I really can’t abide doing it myself.’

  ‘Yes.’

  She looked up at him. ‘I am impressed you found me though.’

  ‘It wasn’t down to my skill. It’s the Wild. Don’t you feel it?’

  To her annoyance, she didn’t. ‘Feel what?’

  ‘When I was coming after you, it didn’t intervene. Usually, I’d expect to be misled, or meet obstacles. But the Wild is quiet. It’s like it’s … in shock.’ He let go of her shoulder to make a slow circle. ‘Grief stricken. I don’t think we are the only ones being shaken to our very hearts.’

  ‘Interesting, but I don’t see how that helps us.’

  ‘Nor do I. I saw Sapphire hunters on my way to you, a whole flight’s worth. They’re not far from us.’

  She straightened. ‘Perhaps you could have led with that, my dear.’

  It didn’t take long to find them. The hunters were arrayed in two loose circles, one inside the other. Each stood wingtip to wingtip, their sp
ears pointing outwards, ready to impale anything that got close.

  Crouched down in the middle of the circle was a Sapphire Deathless. He appeared to be examining something but the many bodies obscured whatever it was.

  ‘That’s Lord Gada,’ said Arkav. ‘Do you want to handle him or shall I?’

  She gave him a smile as she took the lead. ‘I’m surprised you need to ask,’ then lifted her voice and made it more resonant. ‘Greetings to you, Lord Gada, child of the Sapphire Everlasting. Greetings to you, Lord Gada, welcome light in this dark place, and thrice greetings.’

  Gada stood abruptly at the first mention of his name, bouncing gracelessly on his Sky-legs a few times before regaining his dignity and drawing it around himself like a second layer of armour. ‘Greetings to you, Lady Pari and Lord Arkav, children of the Tanzanite Everlasting. What sanctuary I and mine can give, is yours. May our spears find your enemies and our songs find your hearts.’

  The three Deathless all bowed to each other, Pari and Arkav going a fraction lower than Gada. Their exact status was a little grey. Technically, this was his domain. Pari could argue that being this deep in the Wild meant that they hardly qualified as being on Sapphire land and she could also point out that this section of Sapphire land didn’t even belong to Lord Gada, so their standing was equal. She decided it more prudent to appeal to his ego for now.

  Gada made a gesture and his hunters parted for them. He then looked down. ‘What do you make of this?’

  At his feet were several bodies, humanoid in shape but twisted and covered in a black carapace. In places it had been cracked open and she could see wasted flesh beneath. Torn wings sprouted from their backs, semi-transparent, slim, almost delicate.

  ‘We encountered a host of them just now,’ Gada continued. ‘They flew through us without a care in the world. Luckily, we were not their target.’

  Pari glanced at the hunters. ‘Are you sure you want my answer? It is not an easy one to hear.’

  His tone was typically Sapphire. ‘We will not be broken by words.’

  ‘Very well. You are looking at your own people. These were once the residents of Sorn and Sagan, given to the Scuttling Corpseman by Lord Rochant Sapphire, and turned into … this.’

  ‘We are aware of Rochant Un-Sapphire’s treachery. My High Lord sent me ahead to capture him.’

  ‘I’m afraid you’re too late.’

  ‘He’s dead?’

  ‘No. The Corpseman stole him away. If High Lord Vasinidra is here, I would speak with him.’

  Gada’s long face stiffened but he kept his composure. ‘Of course. Allow me to escort you.’

  ‘He’s awake!’ said Gada.

  Faces peered down at him. His brother. His mother. Mia. Both had removed their helmets and wore expressions of grave concern.

  ‘Come closer,’ he said, and they hunkered down low. This was not easy on Sky-legs and impossible to do without looking comical. Despite himself, he chuckled.

  They smiled back at him, though he caught the worried look that passed between them.

  ‘Don’t worry. I haven’t gone quite yet. Listen to what I am about to say. You won’t like all of it but I haven’t time for argument.’

  ‘Yes, High Lord,’ they said together.

  I wish I had more time to get used to that.

  ‘You were right to advise me to be more cautious. Yes, yes, I should have followed your advice. But I didn’t. In my folly I ignored your counsel. I’ve pushed myself too hard for too long and now I have to pay the price. My armour is crumbling and my body is dying. There’s nothing we can do about that but I promise I will be more open to you when I return.’

  Gada looked stricken. ‘But we need you, High Lord.’

  Vasinidra silenced him with a look, then moved his gaze onto Mia. ‘I’ve had many consorts over many lives, but none who brought me joy on earth and in the sky. I hope to see you again, but if I don’t, know that you will never be forgotten. In what is to come, you will command my flight. And afterwards, I leave the care of my hunters to you.’

  ‘Yes, High Lord. It will be as you say.’

  He saw tears in her eyes but she let none slip her guard.

  Pride for her welled up inside. What a Deathless she would have made! For the briefest moment he thought of ways to keep her longer, perhaps elevating her with Rochant’s Godpiece, but then thought against it. What if the artefact had been corrupted through his treachery? What if the others disputed the ruling? No, new Deathless were delicate things that required a High Lord to be present to oversee their ascension. And in any case, such an act would condemn them to be forever close and forever apart, for relationships between Deathless were forbidden.

  No. It is better this way. For both of us.

  ‘There are things I must say to my family, alone.’

  She lifted his hand and kissed it, then laid it across his chest.

  The exertions of travel had faded the paint on his brother’s face. As a result, his fear was all too easy to see.

  ‘How long do you have?’ Gada asked.

  ‘Long enough. Heed well my orders. Rochant Un-Sapphire must die.’

  Nidra’s face twisted at the mention of his name. ‘We must allow no chance for Rochant to return. You, Gada, must ensure that his line is cut. I wouldn’t put it past him to have a vessel tucked away somewhere.’

  ‘It will be done, I swear it.’

  ‘Good,’ replied Vasinidra. ‘Both of you, raise my children well. Of course I wish them to fly, but they must have a head for ruling too, and for listening.’ They both nodded as he spoke. ‘Make sure they have room for me to grow when I come back. There is so much we could do better … that I could do better. Can you do this for me, brother?’

  ‘Yes, yes of course.’

  ‘There is more. Mother must be reborn soon. Do what you can to speed the Bringers of Endless Order to this task. I wanted to tell the other Deathless the news myself but that will be your job now. Assist her restoration.’

  Some of Gada’s consternation eased at the mention of Nidra’s return. He turned to their mother and smiled, the two clasping hands. It was a beautiful moment. It made what Vasinidra had to say all the harder.

  ‘Gada. I am leaving stewardship of the house to you.’

  Nidra’s brief moment of joy faded and she let go of Gada to turn a hard stare in his direction.

  Gada meanwhile flapped his mouth like a breathless fish. ‘I … you … honour me, High Lord. But I don’t understand. Why not Lord Umed? Or Mother? Both are more experienced than I.’

  ‘Umed is a good advisor but he’s no leader. He proved that when Yadavendra took us on this path. He could have taken the position of High Lord many times but he has always let it go. His nerve is broken.’

  Nidra grunted agreement at that.

  ‘And Mother?’ asked Gada. ‘Her nerves are nothing but steel.’

  Again, Nidra grunted agreement.

  Vasinidra was suddenly so tired that he felt all he had to do was let go and sleep would rush to greet him. ‘That’s true. But I fear that is not what we need right now. Her name is controversial and that will not serve my vision for the house.’

  Nidra folded her arms. ‘Which is?’

  ‘To restore our relationship with the other Crystal Dynasties. House Sapphire is the cause of all of this. We can blame Rochant all we like, but he is our fault. We must put things right as best we can.’

  ‘Surely Mother is better placed to—’

  ‘I can speak for myself,’ interrupted Nidra. ‘Our High Lord is right. I am not yet restored. My wisdom alone will serve the house for now, but you must lead it.’

  Vasinidra felt relief flood through him. He lacked the strength for an argument. ‘Yes. This is how it must be. I want to restore balance and trust. We are forever diminished from seven to six, Yadavendra saw to that. He has made us a house that is neither greater nor lesser. A misfit house. But perhaps, in time, we can reclaim our honour, and do right by those that have suff
ered for our folly.’ He wanted to take his brother’s hand but the effort of lifting an arm seemed like far too much, so he tried to make contact with words instead.

  ‘You asked why I have chosen you for this task. Your legend is based around loyalty. I believe you will serve us best and for the future. If all of this seems impossible, take comfort in the fact that it is a temporary burden. And Gada, one more thing.’

  ‘Yes, High Lord?’

  ‘Listen to Lady Pari Tanzanite.’ He saw the question coming and intercepted it. ‘On all matters. Trust me, she knows better than us what she’s doing, and you will need advice from outside the house if we are to move forward. Am I clear on this?’

  ‘As crystal, High Lord.’

  ‘Good. Now, bring me something to drink, the best of whatever we have with us, and send Lady Pari over. I fear I don’t have long and I need to consult with her before the end.’

  Gada sprung up and leapt away. Was that a bit of hurt in his eyes that I dismissed him for a Tanzanite? He found himself smiling again. What fools we are. Gada and I have clung to our identities for too long. He as the older responsible brother and I as the carefree and troublesome one. But we are not children, not even young men. We are ancient. Stuck in our ways. Strange how I only realize that now. But if I can change, so can he. And if we can change, perhaps there is hope for the Sapphire after all.

  Seeing Lady Pari approach him through the trees with his brother, Gada, he was reminded of a similar meeting sixteen years previously. Then, it was her body that moved slowly and relied on a stick for support. Now she seemed sprightly and it was he who stood at the gates that led from one life to the next.

  ‘Are you sure she is on our side?’ asked Nidra. ‘She still has feelings for Rochant. I think she was behind his escape.’

  ‘You’re wrong.’

  ‘Ha! How can you be so sure?’

  He sighed. Death would take this body soon, and he needed his last breaths to talk to Pari. ‘If you cannot trust her, Mother, trust in my judgement.’

  ‘And if I’d rather trust my own?’

  ‘Then consider this an order from your High Lord.’