The Boundless

by Peter Newman

  It is done. It is finally done.

  She stopped chewing.

  The pressure she had felt, the intense scrutiny of both Birdkin and the trees, had also eased. They still watched her but in a different way. It took her a while to understand what exactly they were after, but though they were demons rather than humans she knew what their manner was communicating.

  They are waiting for my word.

  Determined to show strength, she drew herself to her feet.

  The many sets of compound eyes tracked the movement. A breeze like a breath taken in, stirred her hair. Varg too, watched her, as did Glider, but she wasn’t worried about them.

  Beat-beat-

  -beat-beat, went her hearts.

  She pointed to Murderkind’s remains and the many, many dead around it. ‘This cannot stand.’ She pointed to the stripped, destroyed tree. ‘This cannot stand. I will not allow it.’ Her finger moved to a group of Birdkin to her left. ‘Find the Scuttling Corpseman, find Rochant, then return to me with their locations.’

  They watched her as her words sunk into their bones, then scattered in a flurry of wingbeats.

  She pointed to another group on her right. ‘There is a Deathless in this forest, Lady Pari Tanzanite. Find her, and lead her to me.’

  ‘And give her this,’ added Varg, holding out a golden earring.

  These Birdkin went off swiftly too, plucking the jewellery from Varg’s outstretched hand.

  ‘Glider,’ instructed Chandni, ‘stand up.’

  The Dogkin did so.

  ‘Summon the pack. I wish to see what I have left.’

  Glider threw back her head and howled. After a few moments, other voices joined in, scattered in a loose circle around her.

  Good.

  She returned her attention to the remaining Birdkin. ‘Varg and I need food and clothing.’ More of them left, leaving only a handful behind. ‘There is something I wish to know.’ The remaining heads all canted to one side. ‘Rochant said my son was here in the Wild. Is that true?’

  Crowflies hopped forward. ‘Sa-aat.’

  ‘Are you talking about my son?’

  Crowflies gave a sharp nod.

  ‘You know him?’

  It gave a second, more emphatic one.

  She crouched down to be close to Crowflies’ level. ‘I need to find him and I need to know everything you can tell me about him.’

  Crowflies tapped her right hand with its beak. She held it out and it gently nudged under her thumb until she turned it over. Then, with a quick motion, it stabbed her palm, dipping the tip of its beak inside the wound.

  With it being her right hand, she didn’t feel any pain. But a moment later she felt many things, as moments and memories flowed through her, of a baby growing in the Wild, becoming a boy, and then a young man that she recognized.

  It is him! He was right here. But where is he now? Where is my son?

  The vision came instantly – it was another of Crowflies’ memories and a very recent one – of her son being swept away by one of the swarm.

  She opened her eyes again as Crowflies pinched the wound shut. ‘Do the same for Varg’s wounds. And I want him armed.’

  ‘Why?’ Varg saw the expression on Chandni’s face and his eyes widened. ‘Oh, shit.’

  ‘Because we’re going to war and we’re not going to stop until it’s won.’

  To her surprise he folded his arms. ‘I didn’t come with you to fight and die. I came with you to have a life. With you. Not a servant’s life neither. A life of equals.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Varg, but my son’s in danger. This is not the time.’

  ‘Yeah, it is. It’s time to make a deal.’

  She looked at him in shock. ‘You wish to make a deal? With me?’

  He nodded, his expression set. ‘You’ve made deals with everyone else so why not me? I’ve given you everything without asking for anything back, but that was before. You’re as much Wild now as you are Sapphire. So, if you want me to fight for you and risk our future, if you’re gonna start being some kind of …’ he shrugged, exasperated, ‘… whatever it is you are now, I want a deal.’

  All of a sudden, she saw herself through Varg’s eyes. A strange and terrible thing, and the sadness hit her like a punch in the gut. She sighed. ‘What do you propose?’

  ‘I want a life with a family, and I want you in it. And I want you to talk to me about what we’re doing, not just make decisions as if I don’t matter. You’re not running a castle any more and I’m not a servant any more.’

  ‘Yes. What else?’

  He frowned. ‘Uh … and I don’t want to live in some fucking tree. I want us to live in a house.’

  ‘A life. A family. A house. You wish to be involved in discussions concerning our future. Is there anything else?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘If I agree to your terms, what are you offering me?’

  ‘What I always offered. Me. I’ll fight with you. I’ll make a life with you.’ He nodded to himself, then added: ‘It’ll be good.’

  She gestured for the Birdkin to begin tending to Varg’s wounds as she accepted the offer. ‘Yes. Yes, it will.’

  A slim, leaf-dressed figure slipped from between two nearby trees: Kennelgrove. She scowled. ‘Where have you been? Murderkind might have survived if you had come.’

  ‘But that is why I have come. For Murderkind’s power still lives, beating madly in your strange heart.’ To her surprise the demon knelt before her, the knees flexing backwards, folding underneath it. ‘As promised, I have come to seek your protection, and to make fair terms for an alliance against the Corpseman. Though poor Kennelgrove is too weak to fight, there are still some who answer my call, and they are yours to use if you would have them and me.’

  ‘Very well,’ she said, and this time she looked it in the eye without fear. ‘Let us talk.’

  Sa-at woke slowly, the nightmares unwilling to let him go without a fight. But, as consciousness returned, he began to wonder if he’d rather have stayed asleep. The first thing he became aware of was discomfort. His legs were at a strange angle and one was crossed under the other, putting a strain on his hip. There was pain in his shoulders and chest where he’d been gripped too tight and a number of minor cuts and bruises that also made themselves known.

  The second thing was hunger. His lips were dry and his belly was empty. It gurgled and groaned at him like a disgruntled old man. The last thing he’d eaten was a handful of nuts and that had been nearly a day ago.

  The third thing was that he had no idea where he was. A soft glow outlined the space he was in. It was some kind of intersection between a series of low-roofed tunnels. They were circular and relatively smooth, and coated with a substance that seemed to provide stability to the loose earth.

  Larvae were making the light. Their semi-transparent bodies glowed with a soft energy. Each one was about the size of his fist and they slept together in clumps that were packed into the tunnel walls. They gave off heat too. The one thing Sa-at couldn’t complain about was being cold. If anything, the opposite was true; the heat was stifling and turning the air stale.

  Sa-at had the feeling that it would be bad if the larvae woke up.

  Moving slowly and quietly, he uncrossed his legs and flexed his toes. It felt horrible but the feeling soon came back to them and he was relieved to find he still had full use of his limbs. To leave, he was forced to move on his hands and knees. The floor was tacky and pulled at his fingers, but not enough to stop him. Four tunnels met in the space where he was, but only one of them had any light at the end of it. He took that one.

  To his dismay he found that it led downwards.

  As he crawled, his hands came into contact with something smooth buried in the rough earth. By pressing himself against the wall, he was able to let a little of the light from the larvae behind him shine on it. He could see a thick amber block with an almost skeletal human silhouette inside. It was hard to make out details but Sa-at thought the
re was something familiar about them. He brought his face nearer to the floor to try to get a better look. The hands were clasped together in an odd way.

  Like someone who had caught a baby Flykin and was about to shake it to death.

  He remembered the time he’d first met Tal and the other Gatherers from Sagan.

  Oh no. This is Rin.

  Rin, who had looked after the group. Who Sa-at had dearly wanted to befriend. Rin, who had thrown stones at him but only to protect Tal, who he had always treated with kindness.

  Tal would be devastated to learn about this. Then it struck him that he would probably never see Tal again, and that Tal would hate him after what he and Satyendra had done.

  Sa-at suspected that Rin was preserved inside the amber. Not dead but not alive. Perhaps the Corpseman intended to feed upon him later, but Sa-at doubted it. He had the feeling that whatever remained of Rin would rise again to join the strange Flykin like the one that had brought him here.

  Rin had once called the names of his Gatherers to be sure they had returned safely. Would anyone be calling his name now?

  ‘Goodbye,’ Sa-at whispered, touching the amber above Rin’s arm before crawling on.

  He was led to a chamber with a slightly higher roof. There was another tunnel on the opposite wall that led sharply up. It was significantly wider than the one he was in. The chamber itself was empty save for Rochant, who had been partially packed into the left wall. Parts of his body were covered in a thick amber resin that seemed both to glue him in place and form a kind of cocoon. One arm dangled free of the wall, and his head was only partially covered, allowing him to breathe and move his eyes freely.

  The light Sa-at had seen before was coming from the resin itself. Whereas the amber that encased Rin had been dull and quiet, this seemed vibrant and very much alive.

  Of course, Rochant had already seen him. Sa-at stopped and settled his back against the opposite wall. He felt he should say something, though he had no idea what. Despite everything, he still didn’t really know what he felt about Rochant. Or rather, he didn’t know which of the many things he felt was dominant.

  ‘I’m reminded of the time we first met,’ said Rochant. ‘I was a prisoner then, if you recall, and you were as skittish as a Ratkin caught sniffing through the pantry.’

  He didn’t know what a pantry was, but he checked his normal desire to ask. It felt dangerous, like he was skirting around the edge of a Spiderkin’s web.

  ‘You were reluctant to speak then, too,’ added Rochant, ‘though I see the curiosity burning inside you now, bright as ever.’

  ‘Why has the Corpseman trapped you? I thought you were friends.’

  For the barest second, Rochant’s expression shifted, but Sa-at could not tell what it was trying to change to, only that it was nothing like the calm face being presented. ‘We are. It is … complicated between us.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘There are other things I’d rather discuss.’

  ‘I don’t care. You swore to tell me about the Corpseman.’

  ‘So I did.’ He favoured Sa-at with a smile. ‘We are more alike than you know. Your mind is quick and you stay focused on your goal.’

  Sa-at simply folded his arms behind his back and waited.

  ‘Very well. The Corpseman brought us both here to keep us safe. It is trying to do for me what I did for it all those years ago.’

  ‘Healing you?’

  ‘In its own way, yes.’

  Sa-at knew there was a lot more to the words being said, but rather than ask he decided to have another look at Rochant’s body. Through the amber he could only see an outline, but it was wrong; too thick across the chest and too thin at the waist. The arm that was in the wall also seemed odd, the elbow joint much thinner than the upper and lower arm.

  ‘It’s fixed the broken bits of you with bits of itself.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you’re not happy.’

  There was a pause as Rochant watched him intently. ‘No.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘That’s a question about me and not the Corpseman. If you want the answer, you’ll have to offer me something in return.’

  ‘No, I don’t. This is like … this is like that time with the oak, when we had to bargain to get Tal’s boots back. You taught me that I don’t need to give things up. I need to think about what you want and I need to think about what I know.’

  He stopped talking and did just that. Rochant wants to be alive but not like this. And he wants me to be like him so that he can have my body when he dies. But if the Corpseman changes him too much, he won’t be like me any more.

  ‘The Corpseman is saving your life but if it hurts your soul you won’t be able to come back into my body.’

  ‘That is my fear.’

  A very worrying thought occurred to him. ‘Is the Corpseman going to make my body like yours?’

  ‘No. I’ve only asked it to keep you safe. It knows how important you are to me.’

  ‘What if it doesn’t listen?’

  A hint of concern appeared in Rochant’s frown. ‘It must listen, you’re our last hope.’

  ‘I thought you could have other children?’

  ‘You think Nidra left me fertile? That was one of the first indignities she put me through when I was under her care.’

  ‘But you said I wouldn’t have to be the Honoured Vessel. You said that maybe you would have other children and they could be your vessel instead. That was a lie.’

  Rochant started to reply, then caught himself, cutting off whatever he was going to say in exchange for a simple nod.

  ‘You said that if I had children or grandchildren, they could be the Honoured Vessel. Was that a lie too?’

  ‘No. That is true.’

  Sa-at thought about this. Do I believe him? Do I want my children to die for him? I thought he was my friend but now I don’t know. I’m not sure he’s anyone’s friend.

  ‘Sa-at, I want us to make a new deal.’

  ‘How can I trust you?’

  ‘I delivered on the last one, didn’t I? I answered your questions and I took you to my castle.’

  This was true, though Sa-at suspected that there were lots of things he hadn’t been told. Rochant was clever with words, too clever to be trusted. ‘What deal?’

  ‘I want you to help me get free and talk to the Corpseman. I need it to undo what it’s done before these changes become permanent.’

  Sa-at peered into the amber again. ‘I think it’s too late.’

  ‘No, the physical changes can be removed, even if there isn’t much of me left. But it has to be done quickly, before they become part of my self-image.’

  ‘I still think it’s too late.’

  ‘That’s my burden to bear, not yours.’

  ‘And if I did free you, what would you give me?’

  ‘What do you want? Soon, I’ll be in a position to give you so many things. We could return to the castle. I could teach you about the world. I could teach you to fly.’

  The idea of learning new things and flying appealed to Sa-at a great deal, but in the same way as a nice piece of fruit did. He enjoyed the idea of it, but he did not need it. Moreover, he didn’t need Rochant to give it to him. He could feel words bubbling up inside, far more than he’d usually say. ‘I don’t want to die now and I won’t ever want to die. And I don’t understand why I should have to die just for you to live.

  ‘What I’ve always wanted are friends. I thought you were my friend but you’re not. You were never my friend. You’ve already changed the way I think but I don’t want to change any more. I don’t want to be like you.’

  ‘But you already are,’ replied Rochant.

  Sa-at shrugged. ‘I’m not making a deal. I’ll find my own way out. If the Corpseman is really your friend, you don’t need me anyway.’

  ‘Please, Sa-at, there’s so much you don’t understand. Take me with you, I could give you so much.’

  ‘Goodbye, Rochant.’


  ‘Listen to me!’ cried Rochant, his voice lacking its usual calm. ‘I just need you to help me get free and I’ll give you all the friends you want, and I’ll find a way to …’

  Sa-at ignored him and started crawling over to the other tunnel, the one that went sharply upwards, and examined it. There were no handholds for climbing, and the sides were rough and coated with the same tacky slime as the rest of the area. But it wasn’t sheer and, if he leaned forward, he could brace his feet against one side of the tunnel and his hands on the other.

  Still, before he could start the climb, he became aware of something coming at speed down the tunnel towards him. He threw himself away from the entrance and against the nearest wall, hard enough to bruise his back.

  A moment later, the Scuttling Corpseman landed exactly where he’d just been standing, its wings folded around its body like a cloak of office. It immediately dropped onto six legs and skittered towards Rochant.

  Sa-at saw that its missing arm had been replaced with a human one and, while parts of the skin were covered by grafts of bony shell, he still recognized the thin appendage immediately. It’s Rochant’s arm!

  The demon paid no attention to Sa-at at all, its attention was very much focused on Rochant, who was also ignoring Sa-at now. ‘Wait, wait!’ Rochant squealed. ‘This isn’t what we agreed.’

  Its antennae curled down to gently brush Rochant’s eyes while Sa-at crept over to the tunnel and began to climb.

  ‘No, you can’t have any more! You can’t have my … have my … have …’

  And then Rochant fell silent.

  Sa-at tried to be silent too as he climbed. He tried very hard indeed.

  It was a strange situation. High Lord Vasinidra had gone between lives, leaving his brother, Lord Gada Sapphire, in charge of two flights of hunters and the future of the house. But his last orders had been for Pari to lead the attack on the Corpseman, for him to defer to her.

  Nidra was also there to advise, but also to defer to Pari. At least that’s how I interpreted the High Lord’s words. I’m not so sure Nidra has come to the same conclusion.