The Boundless

by Peter Newman

  She squeezed her son’s hand. ‘You have saved many lives. I’m proud of you.’

  His face lit up but when he took a breath to speak no words came out.

  A strange mix of courageous and shy. I will encourage the former and fix the latter. He will need to be stronger if he is to inherit my mantle.

  Crowflies came to land on her shoulder. ‘Cha-aan,’ it said, and she knew its meaning perfectly. They have finished their work.

  ‘Come back to me, my children,’ she murmured, and they did, exploding up and out in a spiralling flurry before settling around her in neat rows.

  The Corpseman was already stooping to pick up Rochant’s body. It no longer wore the skull. Instead, it wore Rochant’s face stitched to the shell of its head just below the antennae.

  ‘We have an accord?’

  It stretched its new jaw startlingly low and rotated it twice before answering. ‘Yes.’

  Strange. It doesn’t sound like Rochant.

  ‘No,’ it replied, the antennae flexing in response to her thoughts. ‘I sound like me.’

  ‘Then we are done here.’

  It looked at the bundle in its arms. A patch of old grey skin sat where Rochant’s face had been. Somehow, he was still alive. Chandni didn’t think about how that was possible.

  ‘Yes,’ said the Corpseman.

  ‘Let us hold fast to this pact,’ said Chandni, ‘and when we are gone, let our children hold it.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the Corpseman.

  She didn’t mean to ask but for once her self control slipped. ‘What will you do with …’ she wasn’t sure if what remained of Rochant still warranted a name so she pointed at him.

  The Corpseman gave a strange wistful smile and unfurled its great wings. ‘Farewell.’

  It took to the sky and the swarm followed. Very few demons left the side of the field where the hunters were. She waited until the noise of their wings had faded and then moved to the edge of the hill so that the Deathless and their followers would see her.

  ‘Varg,’ she said, ‘I have another task for you. I need you to take a message to Lady Pari.’

  Pari stood amid the carnage. There was no doubt they’d broken the enemy. Once she and Lord Gada had started using their armour to stun the swarm, their hunters made short work of them. But the price had been high.

  Too high, really. We should have thought of this much sooner.

  Arkav was stable, and in the care of two Sapphire hunters. Mia looked like she wanted to lead the remains of her flight in pursuit of the Corpseman, while Lord Gada Sapphire looked like he’d be happy never to see the swarm again. Incredibly, Nidra had fallen asleep, looking more peaceful than Pari had seen her in years.

  ‘Well,’ said Pari. ‘That was incredibly unpleasant. Shall we go home? I think I’ve had enough of chasing the Corpseman for one lifecycle.’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Gada. ‘Please come and stay with us until your brother is recovered.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It’s the least we can do.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more.’

  Mia stepped forward. ‘Forgive the interruption, but what about that?’ She pointed towards the hill. On the top of it was Chandni, or whatever the Honoured Mother had become. A black silhouette of a figure, both regal and oddly threatening.

  ‘We should purge the hill,’ said Gada, ‘and anything on it.’

  Pari nodded but it was hard to care. After all this, we’ve failed. The Corpseman has escaped. Rochant has escaped. It was all for nothing.

  While Mia led her flight towards the hill, Gada oversaw the collection of the bodies. It would be tough, unpleasant work taking them home, but they would bear it gladly, rather than leave their fallen comrades to the mercy of the Wild.

  After a while, Pari became aware of a single Birdkin watching her from the trees. The one with the white beak.

  It signalled for her to follow it.

  ‘Oh, go away,’ she muttered. ‘Whatever this is, I’m too tired for it.’

  It signalled again, impatient.

  She told the hunters to take care of Arkav as if their lives depended on it and wearily set off towards the Birdkin. Soon, she found herself in the shadow of the trees opposite a haggard looking Varg.

  ‘This had better be good,’ she said.

  ‘I dunno about good,’ Varg replied. ‘But the Corpseman is gonna leave you alone from now on.’

  ‘That was already the case. It’s everyone else I’m worried for.’

  ‘Nah, that’s not what I mean. They’ve done a deal. You’re safe. The road-born are safe. Everyone is.’

  ‘What, the Corpseman’s just going to live quietly and knit socks?’

  Varg shrugged.

  ‘Who did the deal?’

  ‘Don’t matter. Point is, it’s done.’

  ‘And what about Rochant?’

  This time Varg shuddered. ‘Oh, he’s fucked.’

  ‘Marvellous. There’s just one more thing, when are we getting our High Lord Spinel back?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The Corpseman did something to him to stop him moving between lives. We need him back.’

  ‘Sorry, we didn’t know anything about the High Lords. Don’t reckon that’s going to happen anytime soon.’

  ‘Well, this is … unacceptable!’

  ‘Like I said. It’s done. I’m just passing on the message.’

  ‘I’d rather have heard it from Chandni herself. Is she too important to talk to me these days, or just scared?’

  ‘Nah, she ain’t scared of anything now. It’s just she promised you’d never meet again, so you won’t. Probably won’t see me after this neither.’

  ‘Varg, are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into? I may be difficult at times, eccentric even, but Chandni might be a bit of a stretch, even for you.’

  ‘I’m all right.’

  ‘Well, thank you for your service. Despite how it ended, you gave me many years of loyalty, and you even made me laugh once or twice. A talent I find distressingly rare in people these days.’ She smiled at him fondly for a moment, then let it drop. ‘I think it is probably for the best that we don’t see each other again. Best for your health, I mean.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He turned to go.

  ‘Oh, and Varg?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Good luck. I think you’re going to need it.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  And with that, she left him there.

  Arkav was conscious when she got back. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Later, dear brother. I need to sleep for a day or three. If you’re still with us when I wake up, I’ll give you the full story.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  True to her word Pari slept for days.

  They had returned to Vasinidra’s castle with Mia and the remainder of his hunters, while Lord Gada had taken up duties managing things in his High Lord’s absence.

  Pari vaguely remembered bathing and waking for a series of meals that blurred blandly together. For most of the time, she had drifted and dreamed, recovering slowly.

  The next time she woke, though, it was with the sudden awareness that something had changed. Old instincts became alert, and adrenaline surged through her body. She cracked one eye open just a little and saw that she was surrounded.

  Seven figures, blue tinged in the gemslight, all wearing robes that were half black and half white: The Bringers of Endless Order. ‘Oh,’ she said, closing her eye again. ‘It’s you.’

  One of the Bringers leaned forward over the bed. ‘It is time for us to go.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I know. My brother and I discussed it and agreed that we will go when he’s ready.’

  ‘But Lord Arkav’s armour has been ruined and his body maimed. It will take years to restore him.’

  ‘What’s a few years between friends, hmm? Besides, you’ll have plenty to keep you busy. There are so many rebirths and new ascensions to oversee that the years will fly by.’

/>   The Bringers paused long enough for her to open her eyes again. She saw the one she’d been talking to exchanging an awkward look with their peers. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

  ‘We do not have years,’ replied the lead Bringer. ‘We have to go now.’

  Pari sat up. ‘I’m sorry but that simply won’t do. We have a society to rebuild! You have a sacred duty!’

  Another Bringer said, ‘Show her.’

  ‘Show her,’ chorused the others.

  The lead Bringer sighed and began to unfasten a set of hidden ties.

  Pari did her best not to appear eager. She’d always wanted to know what the Bringers were hiding.

  Where the black and white fabric parted was a slice of desiccated body, the skin dry and tight on the bones, reminding Pari more of one of the Wild’s demons than a person. The stomach was concave, with veins standing proud like purple Wormkin. Organs hung from the Bringer’s hips, a heart, a kidney, and others that she didn’t recognize, each held in a filmy bag of opaque skin and plumbed in with tubes. Other limbs sprouted from the sides of their body, but Pari could only see the beginnings of them, not the ends and so could not discern their purpose.

  Whatever she was looking at was ancient and brittle, and though she was no expert, it was clear that some of the organs were past their best.

  They’re dying. In fact, from the look of them, they’re more than halfway there already.

  The Bringer closed the robe. ‘Now, do you understand?’

  Pari nodded slowly. ‘But if I take you now, there might not be anything left for your replacements to save.’

  ‘If they arrive,’ said the lead Bringer.

  ‘If,’ agreed the others.

  ‘We have lost hope. Perhaps they’ve forgotten us,’ said another.

  ‘Or abandoned us,’ finished the lead Bringer. ‘You have to help us or all is lost.’

  Pari took a deep calming breath. There had been a time, many lifecycles ago, when she had believed in so many things: Her High Lord, the honour of the Crystal Dynasties, the importance of following the rules. That faith had long since crumbled, and now it seemed that beneath their masks even the Bringers were in need of help. Well, Pari, she thought, you’re going to have to find a way to fix all this because nobody else is going to.

  She looked at each of the seven figures in turn. ‘Given that you’re desperate, I take it I can name my price?’

  Only the briefest of glances were exchanged before the lead Bringer nodded.

  ‘In that case, here are my conditions: When you go home, I’ll be coming with you, and we’ll work together to sort out this whole mess.’ She waited for their consent before continuing. It was given quickly. ‘Good. Next, you are going to tell me everything I want to know about anything I care to ask.’ Again, they conceded. ‘And before we leave, you are going to help me make sure that the Deathless stay Deathless while I’m gone.’

  ‘But,’ said the lead Bringer, ‘we do not have time to bring them back or re-attune new ones. There are too many.’

  ‘I know. But I have a solution for that.’ She sat up straighter, a gleam in her eye. ‘Now listen closely, this is what you’re going to do …’

  As the suns set, the Whispercage moved with increasing speed. It had his essence scent, that unmistakable mix of hopes and fears, and it could not help but follow it.

  This part of the forest was dangerous. There were many eyes watching, many trees listening, the hated Dogkin pack ever-vigilant, but the Whispercage knew how to use the lengthening shadows to its advantage. It moved with predatory grace, silent. Plants shivered as it passed but they did not speak nor give it away, and soon it arrived in the deep Wild, a place where its prey would feel safe.

  Yes, it was close now.

  There was a space between the trees where a fat mossy stone sat. A figure perched on the stone. A human with a Birdkin’s posture, he was dressed in a coat of feathers. He was tying leaves to the end of a stick, his tongue poking from between his lips in concentration.

  The Whispercage was virtually upon him by the time he noticed something was wrong. He started to look up, but by then it was already reaching out …

  Sa-at looked up to find himself face to face with the Whispercage.

  And he smiled.

  ‘Hello. You’re early, but it’s okay. I’m nearly done.’

  He finished tying his knot and leant the stick against the rock. Then he took another stone from his pocket and began striking it to make sparks. The Whispercage stood, its arms reaching towards him, quivering with impatience. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, ‘this bit’s hard.’

  It took a while, Sa-at was still learning how to do this, but eventually, the dry leaves caught.

  ‘Yes!’

  He hopped from the stone, stick in hand, and walked around the Whispercage, a thin plume of smoke following. When he’d made four circuits, he planted the stick into the earth.

  That should keep the Dogkin from smelling it.

  He sat back on the rock. ‘Varg’s been teaching me some new words. Do you want to hear them? They’re really crunchy and thick.’

  The Whispercage’s eyes bored into him.

  ‘And you can put them together too. I think my favourite one is …’

  Sa-at chattered away like the Birdkin in the trees, and as he did so, the Whispercage calmed and became still. Not a hunting stillness, but a peaceful one. It came to him every sunsset now, and he told it about his day, and his worries and his triumphs. And each time it listened, saying nothing. When he was done, it would incline its head once, as if to say thank you or goodbye, Sa-at wasn’t sure which. Then it would leave.

  He did not know about the Whispercage’s incessant hunger, nor the emptiness that could never be filled, but he did know that it needed him. Because it was his friend now, and friends needed each other.

  Footsteps approached, and Sa-at glanced round to see Varg making his way through the trees. He knew that when he looked back, the Whispercage would be gone. He also knew that it would return tomorrow.

  ‘All right?’ asked Varg as he joined Sa-at on the rock.

  ‘Yes,’ Sa-at replied, giving Varg a hug. Varg is my friend too. And he’s Chandni’s special friend. She makes his cheeks change colour.

  ‘What are you grinning about?’ asked Varg.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Bollocks.’

  ‘What’s “bollocks” mean?’

  Varg looked up towards the sky. ‘Oh shit, not this again.’

  ‘What? I like learning new words.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. It’s just … I’m still getting used to all this.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘I thought you grew up here.’

  ‘I did. Me and Crowflies. But now it’s me and Crowflies and you and Chandni and all the Birdkin and the Dogkin and the Stranger and those—’

  Varg patted his arm. ‘I know, I know, it’s a bit of a headfuck. Don’t ask what that means. Just came out here to see how you are.’ He looked at the stick. ‘What’s that for?’

  ‘To stop the Dogkin knowing where I am.’ He looked up at Varg. ‘How did you know where I am?’

  ‘I didn’t. I was looking for you though. I think maybe the trees led me here.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ll never get used to that. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to do something together?’

  Sa-at beamed. ‘Yes!’

  Varg’s beard curled as he smiled. ‘Was hoping you would. It’s going to be hard work, mind.’

  ‘Yes! I’ll do it. What is it?’

  Varg put a hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s time we built a home.’

  ‘But, this is home.’

  ‘Yeah, but we need a roof over our heads and a door we can shut against the cold.’

  ‘Somewhere that’s warm?’

  Varg nodded. ‘Bloody right. It’s all right you or me sleeping rough but it ain’t right for a baby.’

  Sa-at realized that Varg was watching him very closely. ‘A baby that you’ve m
ade or one the Wild had brought as a gift or one you’ve stolen?’

  ‘The first one. Of course, the fucking first one!’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘You’re going to have a sister or a brother, or maybe two.’ His cheeks went rosy. ‘Maybe more in time, I dunno.’

  ‘How soon will it be here?’

  ‘Too fucking soon. We should get started.’

  ‘Okay.’

  They stood up and set off, Sa-at giving one last wave to the shadows as they went.

  Chandni listened as the trees whispered, reassuring her that Varg and Sa-at were safe. It pleased her that they were happy together, and it suited her that they were distracted.

  She stood between two elderly birch trees, taking shelter from the rain beneath their thin branches. Their leaves caught the rain and tilted to divert the water away. Not a single drop found her shoulders nor the many feathers in her hair.

  The Wild was in her heart now. It loved her and she loved it in return. Not every piece, of course. Some parts of the forest remained aloof or afraid, and many demons lurked on her borders, threatening. But none of them frightened her. With the Scuttling Corpseman and its swarm gone, and many of the old powers destroyed, Chandni was in a unique position to take advantage.

  One day, the Deathless will recover. One day, the Corpseman will return. I must begin preparations.

  She had already started building alliances with her neighbours. They did not know that her flock was decimated, nor that she was still adjusting to her new role. Life as a Sapphire had taught her to hide her weaknesses, and her time with Varg had taught her a different kind of bravery. When the demons saw her, they saw a figure of iron and darkness, and they were afraid.

  Never again would Chandni serve another, she’d rather die than let that happen. Varg would build her a home and she would build a community, part family, part army, all hers.

  The trees murmured of a visitor, allowing her a moment to prepare before Kennelgrove emerged from the shadows. It had recovered somewhat from its wounds, but had maintained its odd brand of bitter deference.

  ‘Prince Kennelgrove, welcome. I have something to ask of you.’