by Tom Lloyd
‘That doesn’t sound good,’ Lynx muttered. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Wrong?’
‘Sounds like there’s a difference between before the Cards have done something and after it,’ Lynx said. ‘That usually means some new shit’s getting laid at our feet.’
‘Ah, indeed.’ Paranil wasn’t smiling exactly, but he seemed animated in a way that Lynx didn’t much like the look of. ‘The fragments bear an affinity for each other, most noticeably for those of the same type. Hence …’
He fished in the satchel again and, after a little fumbling, brought out another piece of Catrac. This one was smaller and lumpen with a slight curve to it. Paranil flourished both then brought them together. There was a loud crack and the two God Fragments slammed together, hard enough to make Lynx wince. Then he remembered the things had always been thought to be nearly indestructible and felt a bit silly, but no one seemed to notice.
‘The pieces are attracted to each other,’ Paranil went on as he gripped each fragment and tried to pull them apart. After a moment he gave up and Aben held out his hand. With a small effort the big man yanked the smaller one free.
‘Thank you.’
‘What’s your point?’ Gold Mask interrupted – clearly not just a bodyguard, Lynx realised. Lynx had seen the man fight, however – as swift and precise a gunfighter as Suth – and it clearly wasn’t an honorary position. ‘Didn’t we know this already?’
‘We did,’ Paranil confirmed. ‘After the events in Caldaire, however, the affinity seems to be stronger.’
‘Stronger? Why?’
‘More magic,’ Atieno interrupted. ‘Because we broke the seals.’
‘In the Labyrinth of Jarrazir?’ the Archelect said. ‘You believe it was a reservoir of sorts? One the later-age Duegar created to reduce the amount of magic in the world?’
‘That is our belief, yes.’
‘So with more magic around, whatever remains of the gods are stronger,’ the Archelect finished.
‘That’s not all,’ Paranil said.
‘You have good news?’
The academic’s face fell. ‘Ah, no. I suppose that was the good news.’
‘How is that good?’ Gold Mask demanded.
Paranil looked panicked. ‘Um, because it’s better than the other news?’
Before anyone else could speak Toil jumped up, unable to sit still any longer. She grabbed a large wrapped fragment from Paranil’s bag and held it up.
‘Here’s the bad news,’ she announced. ‘Behold.’
The God Fragment was large, twice the size of the largest one of Catrac and its light was ice-white – a shard of Insar, God of the Night, Secrets and Cold.
‘Why is that one bad?’ the Archelect asked.
Toil grimaced. ‘Because it wasn’t always just one piece.’
She tossed the fragment over and the Archelect caught it, turning the chunk over in his hands. ‘There is no seam,’ he mused. ‘No indication this was ever two pieces.’
‘Exactly – the fragments of Insar behave differently to all the others,’ Toil said. ‘It sounds like they’ve all got different degrees of affinity, but Insar’s is comfortably the strongest.’
‘And this is your logic?’ Gold Mask demanded. ‘This is your reasoning to try and recruit a legendary band of madmen?’
‘A second one,’ Toil said with a smile, ‘but yes.’
‘This is quite a gamble.’
‘Pretty sure we’re at the gambling stage already, no?’ she replied. ‘Given what we know? Given what we fear?’
‘Your time with the Cards has changed you, my friend,’ the Archelect replied. ‘I’d never have thought you a gambler – not unless you’d rigged the deck first.’
Too pent up with energy, Toil began to pace around the circle. ‘I do have a rigged deck,’ she insisted. ‘A whole set of Marked Cards, in fact!’ Toil pointed at Atieno. ‘One of those Cards is a joker they’ll never see coming.’
‘To risk extending the metaphor too far – I would suggest you remain uncertain of the rules. You hold these cards, perhaps you can even guess the hand of your opponents, but can you be sure of how they will play out?’
‘Is battle any more certain?’ she argued. ‘We’ve failed to secure veterans from So Han – our army remains inexperienced and small. Large mercenary companies are wary of signing on with any Parthain state if it means direct engagements with the Orders. Is my suggestion any riskier?’
‘Yes,’ the Archelect said sharply. ‘It is. You would raise the stakes further than most believe possible.’
‘But avoid war on our doorstep. For the people of Su Dregir this must be better, surely?’
‘For Su Dregir, perhaps. For the rest of the Riven Kingdom?’
‘When did the entire continent become your concern?’
The Archelect looked thoughtful at that. ‘Since you returned here with this plan of yours, I am starting to feel its weight on my shoulders.’
They were all quiet. Gold Mask took a breath and sat more upright as though readying to argue further, but Lynx saw the Archelect give him a look. Whatever unspoken idea passed between the two, Gold Mask thought twice about it.
‘How about destroying those we have?’ the Archelect said at last.
‘It’s possible,’ Atieno replied. ‘I’ve only done it a few times, but it cost me nothing each time. My concern is the magic released. We know there are creatures attracted to magic, and it seems like they’re more active or bold these days. Destroying so many might bring horror down on your city the way we did in Caldaire.’
‘Best we do that somewhere else,’ Toil added. ‘Or we do it piecemeal.’
‘Why can we not build our defences while the Orders continue to tear each other apart? We have more than enough fragments to make mage-spheres.’
‘Did strong defences work for Jarrazir?’ she argued. ‘And when the Orders are done and one wins out, what then? A greater enemy faces us across our improved defences.’
‘You cannot know that.’
‘I know that’s the more optimistic outcome. We may find ourselves defeated without a shot fired or a hand lifted until it’s too late.’
‘Do you buy in to the Knights-Charnel creed now?’ the Archelect asked, sounding surprised.
Toil shook her head. ‘No, but that’s beside the point.’
‘Surely it’s crucial?’
‘It isn’t. I mean, if you want to run down that rabbit hole there’s reason enough to support my plan anyway. We’ve been taken by surprise by what lies beneath once already. You’d be stupid to rule out the other side knowing more than we do.’
‘And still your argument to me is one of economics?’
‘You’re the one I’m trying to persuade, after all,’ she said by way of explanation. ‘You’re a city-state ruler and a man o’ trade. If you were a relic hunter or career soldier, I might try a different tack, but the tangible, comprehensible fear is the economic one.’
Toil took a breath, waiting just a fraction until the Archelect inclined his head for her to go on.
‘The Knights-Charnel are believed to possess the greatest collection of God Fragments in the entire continent. We know a few states in the Parthain League have already sold the fragments we gave them to the Charnelers in return for a neutrality pact. We know the Charnelers have been fastest to move on their fellow Orders and they’re the most powerful militarily.’
Atieno took a step forward at that point. ‘Ah, might I add that there remains one seal unbroken, so far as we know, in the Labyrinth of Jarrazir. There is more magic in the world, but perhaps not yet enough for the Charnelers’ ultimate goal.’
‘In the meantime,’ Toil continued, nodding, ‘the Charnelers mean to dominate the whole Riven Kingdom. They’ll take every God Fragment they can find and squeeze for decades until they can subsume or destroy the remaining Orders. Tens of thousands dying in this internecine war might just be the start – at some point they’ll turn our way. I want to try
and have that fight as far from Su Dregir’s gates as possible.’
‘Strike at the heart of them,’ the Archelect said, ‘while their armies are abroad and occupied? Highkeep Sanctuary will hardly be lacking in defences.’
‘But they’ll be reduced. The holy valley is considered unbreachable in normal circumstances, but these are far from normal. The garrison will be stretched and their war of consolidation is a gamble sparked by dogma. There will never be a better opportunity to cut their heart out.’
‘And you think the Sons of the Wind are the key?’
‘Can you think of anyone else mad enough for this fight?’ Toil paused. ‘Apart from the Cards, that is?’
The four Cards made a rough camp at dusk after a long day of travelling. Kas counselled against a fire and Atieno had acquiesced, though Lynx could see the mage would have liked to warm his bones. Kas had seen several groups of people as she scouted the wilds. None had seemed an overt threat, but these were not the easiest of times. The Orders were spread across the whole of the north and most of the land east of Su Dregir for a thousand miles too.
But while they each had their heartlands, every Order existed as a spiderweb of cities, towns and commanderies that were interwoven with each other. There were few parts where only the Brethren or Knights-Charnel ruled exclusively. Years of peace between the Orders meant there had been little natural conflict or consolidation until that abruptly changed last year. In the months after the Cards had opened the Labyrinth, many outlying Order-controlled towns and strongholds had fallen – too isolated or too unimportant to be retaken while their former owners were busy doing the same elsewhere.
‘Anyone ever been to a Sons o’ the Wind town?’ Deern asked as they were just settling down to sleep.
He’d caught the first watch and sat on the jutting roots of an old oak, looking at the dull shine of the skyriver in the south. Their campsite was a hollow in the ground below the oak – in truth an ideal spot to have an unobtrusive fire, but Kas was taking no chances.
‘Once,’ Atieno said. ‘It was enough.’
‘Yeah – we got in a fight with some, oh, four years back mebbe? Remember that, Kas?’
‘Not really,’ she growled. ‘Thanks to you starting a brawl, that whole week’s a blur.’
Deern laughed. ‘Hah, I’d forgotten that bit. That bugger wouldn’t go down, would he?’
‘Oh he went down well enough, three times as I recall. Bastard just wouldn’t stay there.’
‘Fun times, eh? Anyway, after that, Anatin made sure we never went to a Sons-controlled town, or one run by any Order devoted to Banesh.’
‘Not much work there anyway,’ Lynx said. ‘Nothing good. They like a good raid, but they prefer to fight themselves. The towns are a mess, chaotic and poor. No money for honest mercs.’
‘Where they come from, the Sons?’ Kas asked. ‘The ones we met were a mix, but none looked as blond and creepy as yer average Charneler.’
Lynx glanced around at the others, not knowing himself.
Eventually Atieno cleared his throat. ‘I’ve met a few. Their towns are out of the way, good places to make sure you won’t find Charneler agents, and they don’t keep sanctuaries.’
‘So?’
‘I think they’re originally from the far north-east – the lands north of Ikir and Ei Det, Olostir too.’
‘That’s a big fucking area,’ Deern pointed out after a moment’s thought. ‘I mean, if I was to be making shit up I’d also probably pick some region a thousand miles long where no one’s ever been.’
‘They’re a Militant Order still,’ Lynx pointed out. ‘They’ll be the nearer side of it. Not many God Fragments were scattered past Olostir.’
‘What’s this damn company come to, eh?’ Deern declared, yawning as he spoke. ‘We’re working with Militant Orders, runnin’ all round the Riven Kingdom chasing God Fragments … Shit didn’t used ta be this way.’
‘That’s what comes of letting any old bastard join,’ Kas said. She nudged Lynx playfully as she spoke, but he knew there was an edge to her words all the same.
‘Enough of the “old” there,’ he muttered, turning his head to look at the skyriver’s dull shine, its graceful curve broken by cloud. The warmth of her at his side was a pleasant sensation, their bedrolls pressed together by the lie of the land and the lack of a fire. ‘Anyway, wasn’t the old way to just earn a pittance and spend it all in the pub?’
‘We gambled a lot too,’ Kas protested.
‘Don’t you want to save the world?’ Lynx asked, only half joking.
‘Dunno really,’ Deern said. ‘Do we have to be sober for it?’
‘It’s no fun walking a few hundred miles with a hangover, but I guess the choice is yours.’
‘It’s likely to be the death of us,’ Kas broke in. ‘Hangover or no. You know that, but have you told the rest of the company?’
‘They’re grown-ups, they can decide for themselves.’
‘They’re a bunch of idiots for the most part,’ she said. ‘They’ll find themselves in so deep it’s far too late to crawl out.’
‘Welcome to war,’ Lynx snapped. ‘What did they expect?’
‘Not a suicide mission! You might be ready to throw your life at a cause. Doesn’t mean most of us are the same.’
He turned to look at her in the remaining light – so close he could kiss. ‘So why are you still here?’
‘Cos I’m not a monster either,’ Kas replied, looking him directly in the eye.
For a moment Lynx felt his breath catch. He’d been able to ignore Kas’s beauty well enough since he’d got together with Toil, but right now … The faint tinge of red in her dark eyes seemed to glitter like rubies. The smooth curves of her cheekbones were a gently inviting sight to a man lying on hard, cold ground as night descended. By the look on her face, either she felt something similar shiver through her or she saw it in his eyes.
‘I’ll wait,’ she said softly. ‘Until we see the Sons. Without them on our side it’s madness to even try.’
‘With them it might be madness too,’ Lynx pointed out.
Kas nodded. ‘Also true. If it is, I’ll say so – even if Toil tries to stop me.’
‘She won’t,’ he broke in. ‘I promise that much. You’ll get to say your piece. The others deserve the truth.’
‘Adorable, the pair o’ you,’ Deern called. ‘Now shut the fuck up and get some sleep. Don’t think I’ll let you sleep late when it’s my turn.’
Lynx managed a smile at that and saw the tension released between the two of them. Kas rolled over and set her back against him, arranging her sheepskin so it covered them both. Lynx lay still for a long while then finally felt a moment of calm. They had a job to do and until then, nothing else mattered.
Chapter 10
The following day was clear and bright. Lynx woke with the dawn’s light and sat up just as Deern was considering whether to kick him awake.
‘We could always say the Sons took a dislike to you,’ Lynx muttered, eyeing the small northerner. ‘Reft would be hard pushed to say that wasn’t possible.’
‘If you reckon Reft’s easily fooled,’ Deern spat, ‘you ain’t long fer this life.’
‘He’d have witnesses,’ Kas called from where she’d been taking the last watch. ‘Hard to argue with honest testimony.’
‘There’s nothin’ honest about you, Kas.’
She looked over. ‘Except my aim,’ she suggested. ‘Never forget that bit, Deern – and never forget a scout needs good ears to stay alive. Good enough to hear all those quiet comments around a camp fire.’
‘Don’t know what yer talkin’ about,’ Deern said. ‘Reckon you’re a bit oversensitive. Probably got somethin’ on yer mind, but don’t take it out on the rest of us.’
The man looked far from embarrassed or abashed at her words. Lynx knew he wasn’t likely to change, either. There was a shameless delight in the abuse he handed out and Lynx was pretty sure the man cared not a jot for the colour o
f someone’s skin, except for when it was the easiest way to abuse someone. You couldn’t argue with the man, it was what he wanted. Discord upon anger, all feeding his ever-widening glee.
‘It’s too early for this,’ Atieno groaned, jerkily stretching his arms as though a night on the ground had aged him a decade. ‘Let’s just get moving.’
Kas nodded and stood. ‘Aye, the sooner we find the Sons the sooner they can take objection to Deern for real.’
The four mercenaries packed what little they had and saddled the horses. Before long they were on their way under a deep blue sky. Small puffs of cloud swept in from the east on a breeze that kept the sunshine pleasant, while the great arc of the skyriver hung in all its great glory above.
‘Yours up there?’ Lynx asked Atieno, pointing up at the silvery-grey band that straddled the sky.
There were faint specks on the smooth strata above. Some Lynx knew but most he had never bothered to remember. One yellow-tinted dot was named after Veraimin, God of Light, but the others meant nothing.
‘Banesh’s star?’ Atieno asked. ‘Perhaps … I, ah, is that it?’ He pointed behind them, near to the horizon in the west. ‘It is hard to be sure. You may not be surprised to hear Banesh’s orbit is eccentric.’
‘Figures,’ Lynx said with a nod. ‘You believe that’s where magic comes from?’
Atieno shook his head. ‘Not really. It always sounded too much like a priest’s explanation, faith and convenience combined.’
‘What then?’
The ageing mage shrugged. ‘Where does water come from?’
‘Water’s just a thing,’ Lynx argued. ‘You see it or you don’t.’
‘Not always, but yes, water’s just a thing. Magic doesn’t obey the same rules, but to a mage it’s just part of the world around us. Perhaps like the wind it ebbs and flows but like the air it is always there. The Labyrinth bottled it up, starved the gods – or the Duegar – of magic. It made the world like a desert would seem to … ah, frogs perhaps. The water’s not all gone, but it’s not the landscape they thrive in.’