by Tom Lloyd
Erazil nodded. ‘They are all tempest. Should we summon the rest? We have other mages in the camp.’
‘How many?’
‘Four of various disciplines.’
Atieno exchanged a look with Toil. ‘It may drain us more,’ he warned. ‘But it might be sensible.’
‘Remember Jarrazir? Those shields? If we’re going into battle, more of those might not be a bad idea.’
That comment seemed to perk General Erazil up. ‘Shields?’
‘The mages with willow tattoos are far stronger than before,’ Toil explained.
‘This Kalozhin told me. You can create shields against gunfire?’
‘Some,’ Atieno admitted.
‘Enough to send a team up to a castle wall so we can set charges?’
Sitain smiled. ‘Enough to get the team there then put everyone in the castle to sleep.’
Erazil translated this furiously to her two colleagues. The taciturn pair stared in wonder for a moment before replying. After a rapid-fire back and forth between them, one of the lower-ranked mages sprinted off towards the Sons camp.
‘This is a very good thing,’ Erazil pronounced. ‘This will save many lives.’
‘No earth mages,’ Atieno said. ‘We cannot risk that.’
‘No? It would be most useful to us.’
‘It would cause other problems,’ Atieno said firmly. ‘I will not.’
The general looked about to argue then stopped at the look on Atieno’s face. The tall mage looked stern and disapproving most of the time, but right then his expression could have been carved from stone.
‘Very well, it will be so.’ In a blink she had cast off her hesitation. ‘All mages can cast this shield?’
‘I am strong enough to control it, however our ice mage had the greatest ability because of her training. All three of us could cover a dozen others for a certain time.’
‘The defences of Seit-e-Veirolle are said to be impressive,’ Erazil mused, ‘but four mages shielding forty soldiers under cover of night … with you and Kalozhin, you could work in stages. They would never know what has hit them.’
‘Are, um, are we going to have to warn the Cards?’ Sitain asked. She wrinkled her nose as she remembered the previous times they had done this. The connection between them was stronger than ever during the linking ritual and she’d found men like Deern touching her thoughts. The non-mages had enjoyed the connection of minds a whole lot more, especially those who’d managed to get their clothes off in time.
‘It was better at the second attempt, remember? The first time, with Mage Tanimbor’s guild, you and Lastani channelled a large amount of magic through the Cards and there were only three of us linked to them. The second time we used less magic and the load spread among more mages,’ Atieno said. ‘The Cards still, ahem, got animated by events, but didn’t invade our minds in the same way.’
‘Shattered gods, that’s good news. My stomach’s not feeling so great as it is.’ She paused and looked askance at Lynx. ‘You might want to take a walk though, Toil too.’
‘We’ll handle it,’ Toil asserted with a hard look.
‘We will?’ Lynx wondered, surprising himself by the sense of disappointment he felt at that. Toil was hardly reticent with her affections most of the time, but that second ritual had burned quite the memory into his head. ‘Okay, we’re camped out in some field here, but …’
‘You’ll keep a tight grip on it,’ Toil commanded.
‘I think he’s hoping you’ll do that,’ Sitain said with a sly smile.
At that Toil couldn’t help herself and she allowed a laugh to break her brusque façade. ‘Good point. Go take a walk, Lynx. Maybe somewhere away from women.’
‘Just the women?’ Lynx asked weakly, trying to participate in the joke.
He was rewarded by a raised eyebrow and a smirk. ‘Now that took an interesting turn,’ Toil said. ‘Suggest some names and we’ll negotiate.’ She turned to the others, as usual leaving Lynx feeling more awkward than she’d found him. ‘While Lynx is thinking long and hard there, shall we get ready for the business at hand?’
Atieno nodded. ‘Come.’
He led them to the treeline where there were several stunted blackthorns. They looked like they had already seen the attentions of a tempest mage. With mottled branches studded with spikes, they had grown twisted and gave the impression of hunched old men after a cruel life. A few withered berries remained tucked behind half-curled yellowing leaves. Lynx didn’t want to guess what they might look like after Atieno’s attentions.
Directing Sitain to sit well short of the tree, Atieno seated the Sons of the Wind mages in a line between her and himself. There was a little discussion of the process, none of which Lynx could understand, but finally they were in a line with Atieno waiting at the head.
By that point the other mages were hurrying over. The remaining soldiers spread out to guard them all at a remove and the Cards backed off to what they hoped was a safe distance. Given who was leading this particular piece of magic, that was a long way.
In very little time the mages were ready. A line of Sons of the Wind sat rather comically behind Atieno, the night mage, Sendan Kalozhin, in the nearest position to the Prince of Tempest. Atieno asked each mage in turn what their power was and they answered like dutiful schoolchildren. The newcomers replied ‘night’, ‘lightning’, ‘fire’ and ‘stone’. Satisfied, Atieno instructed them all to link hands. Seeing that, Lynx sank to his knees, anticipating a dizzying rush of magic.
‘Easy does it!’ Toil called, to which Atieno nodded without looking back.
He reached out with his left hand and brushed his fingers down the nearest branches. Lynx felt a faint tug inside him. He checked his hand and saw the tattoo was glowing faintly, building to a steady white light. Lynx could feel the magic flowing through his skin now. There was a distant hum in his bones, a prickle of sensation that ran from his fingertips to his teeth. He glanced at Toil and saw that she felt it too. Not the melting surge of connection between them they’d felt before, but a quickening of the spirit all the same.
He gave her hand a quick squeeze, enough to prompt a wolfish grin on her face, then returned his attention to Atieno’s efforts. It wasn’t easy. The thrum of magic running through his body made even that small touch electric as the presence of Toil and others began to intrude further on his thoughts. Sitain and Atieno overshadowed all, but Toil’s familiar warmth kissed his skin like the heat of a hearth-fire. The prickle of Estal’s mind, jagged and elusive, washed strongly over him too. Then the sharply cold focus and smooth swirling elegance that he sensed were Suth and Safir.
The tree shuddered under Atieno’s efforts, withered fruit growing fuller and larger as they took on a darker shade. The leaves turned grey-green and lengthened, the tips split into forks like snakes’ tongues. Lynx had to blink away the stars bursting before his eyes to keep watching. Atieno summoned more and more magic. The power flowed as fast as a river current as he drew from the mages behind him.
To link with them he had to pull power from each. It took a deliberate effort when his strength far exceeded theirs. The tree reeled like it had been struck by a gale. Black-glass berries popped with a melodious high crackle. The branches stretched and twisted, curling tight on themselves then suddenly unravelling before the bark burst open to reveal some ash-grey substance beneath.
That in turn melted without warning. It streamed away from the storm that was Atieno, and Lynx felt the tingle in his tattoos increase to a furious sensation. It raced over his body almost like the glittering water around the stone tree beneath Jarrazir. The surging feeling wrapped around his body and only added to the heady presence of Toil – both beside him and in his mind. Lynx wasn’t even sure whether he could smell her skin more acutely now, sweat and perfume combined, or whether it was all in his head. Either way it was intoxicating.
Trying to focus, he blinked at the line of mages in front of him. White light shone from their bodies, the ou
tline of willow leaves unfurling into a familiar pattern down the line but then … Then he felt a tremble.
For a moment, Lynx thought it was an elemental, or some other creature sliding through the earth towards them. He cast a worried look at Toil and saw her wide-eyed – but scanning the line of mages rather than their surroundings. That jolted him into paying attention. One of the mages, a young captain by the markings on her collar, seemed to shine more brightly than the others. Lynx’s eyes blurred as he tried to work out what was different about her. Why the taste of soil filled his mouth and some sense of erupting power filled his mind.
He never got the chance to work it out. One moment the power was roaring up from nowhere to swamp them, then the tide broke over all their minds and there was only darkness.
Chapter 27
‘Deepest black,’ Lynx croaked. ‘What happened?’
Daylight intruded, stark and bright. He groaned at the ache in his head but forced himself up to look around.
‘We got fucked,’ said someone in a hoarse voice, just a dark blur in the brightness. ‘An’ not the good kind.’
‘Huh?’
Lynx stared at the shape for a moment. Eventually it resolved into the glowering face of Anatin. The company commander’s sweat-plastered hair stuck up strangely on one side of his head, but Anatin didn’t care, intent on lighting his cigar off a glowing ember. Once he’d succeeded, Anatin looked up. In the harsh light of day the sparker burn on his face looked gruesome, the stump of his left hand even more so.
‘I said we got fucked,’ he grunted. ‘By your new friends, so thanks for bringing them into our business.’
‘What happened?’ Lynx repeated in a firmer voice.
‘Just like the man said,’ Toil called from somewhere behind him. ‘We’ve been shafted. Oh look, your friend’s coming this way. Maybe we’ll get some explanations now.’
‘If not, can we shoot the fucker?’ Anatin asked.
Toil didn’t reply and the three of them watched Colonel Kalozhin make his way over. Lynx saw the man’s face was drawn, his usual easy grin rather more subdued than normal. The colonel didn’t speak as he approached, waiting until he’d reached them.
‘Lynx,’ he said with a nod, ‘Lieutenant Toil, Commander Anatin.’
‘Give me one good reason why I don’t shoot you in that smug face o’ yours?’ Anatin snapped.
Kalozhin stopped and gave Anatin a curious look. ‘Because I have an army?’
The two men stared at each other for a while before Toil made an exasperated sound and spoke up.
‘How about a reason for what you did?’
‘What did they do?’ Lynx demanded angrily.
‘These fucking geniuses,’ Toil growled, ‘decided to break the final fucking seal on the stone tree.’
‘In Jarrazir? Fuck!’ Lynx gasped. ‘Wait – how?’
‘They snuck an earth mage in with the tempests, Atieno didn’t notice until it was too late to break the link.’
‘How did they even know about that? I thought we were keeping it a secret!’
At that last point, a flicker of guilt raced across Kalozhin’s face. Toil noticed it immediately and pulled her gun, aiming it at the man’s leg.
‘Answers, now,’ she demanded. ‘I won’t kill you but at this range I reckon I can cripple you before you get a shield up. What did you do?’
‘You truly do not know?’ At that Toil growled and he raised his hands, explaining hurriedly, ‘Ah, yes, I believe you will shoot. I will tell you.’
‘Go on then.’
‘Lynx told me – he just does not know it.’
The other two whirled around as Lynx gaped. ‘What now?’
‘I am a night mage,’ Kalozhin explained. ‘Our power is one of calming, but this has many facets for a trained mage. Many do not survive to discover this. They are killed because we are dangerous.’
‘Killed?’
Kalozhin nodded. ‘Few Orders will train night mages, only if they have power over them. They do not want night-cartridges to sell and there is risk to keeping them alive.’
‘Why?’ Lynx demanded, trying to restrain his urge to hit the man.
‘A night mage can put you to sleep, this you know. To do this we calm the mind, slow the thoughts. With practice we can only calm some thoughts – keep you awake but, ah, half-asleep.’
‘Why?’
‘Interrogation,’ Kalozhin said with a shrug. ‘With the mind quietened, you do not create lies, you do not question. You simply talk.’ He tried his best roguish grin on Toil but it was entirely wasted on her so he quickly moved on.
‘Some things they say without being asked, if it is close to their thoughts, such as his feelings towards a woman. Most things, we ask questions. He does not remember it in the morning, but he answers them all.’
‘So you learned all about the seals, but why break the last one? What do you have to gain?’
His winced. ‘This I cannot tell you. My Order’s secrets are just that.’
‘Bullshit,’ Anatin broke in, ‘we’re a bit fucking far past secrets at this stage, ain’t we? What is it? Some secret devotion to Insar? You realise breaking that last seal just makes the gods stronger?’
‘This we know, but there are things you do not know. There are reasons for what we do. I can promise you the Sons of the Wind are no devotees of any god. Our mission remains the same, our alliance also.’
‘How in the shits could we trust you after this?’
Kalozhin shrugged. ‘Why trust? You do not have to come. The Sons of the Wind will march on Seit-e-Veirolle with or without you. Come if you like, but now your mage is not the only key.’
‘Tried that out have you?’
‘Yes.’ The colonel gestured behind him, towards the Sons camp. ‘We have tested each of our mages. Those of tempest can all destroy God Fragments.’
‘Shit, you’ve done it already? You remember last time that happened?’
Kalozhin nodded. ‘We do, and so we are about to march. The Mercenary Deck are welcome to come with us or to go home. The choice is yours, but we suggest you do not stay.’
‘There’s a fucking understatement,’ Lynx snapped. ‘It was bad enough when Atieno dusted one of those bloody things. If you’ve done four or five every predator for fifty miles will be on their way.’
At that, Kalozhin gave a crooked grin, reminding Lynx of his Order’s reputation for madness. For a moment he looked like someone far younger, rather than a man almost ten years Lynx’s senior.
‘Four or five? Oh my friend, we tested it yes, but once it works, why stop? We march on the heartland of Insar’s most devoted soldiers, it is best their god is as weak as possible.’
‘Broken gods and dark things,’ Toil moaned. ‘How many?’
‘Eighty-seven! It was most amusing; we have enjoyed ourselves greatly. We kept one of Insar’s fragments just in case and half of the rest. The air sings with magic, my friend. It is a fitting start to this grand enterprise, no?’
‘Gonna sing with screams if we don’t get away from here soon.’
‘Indeed. So – do you come with us?’
‘Doesn’t look like we’ve got any choice.’
‘As I say, you can choose to go home. This is my Order’s mission now. We will see it done, but we welcome your help.’
‘Fat fucking chance we’ll just walk away now.’
Kalozhin nodded. ‘Very well, I shall inform General Erazil our honoured allies will continue at our side.’
‘Honoured?’ snarled Toil.
‘You prefer we do not see you this way?’
That made her pause and finally, defeated, Toil shook her head.
‘Good. You should pack.’
Sotorian Bade woke trembling. All around him soldiers and mages stopped and looked about themselves. The ground, the very mountain they stood upon, shook. He looked up at the vast slanted sheet of rock above his head. Nothing fell and the ground only shuddered, but still a flash of panic raced aroun
d the camp.
Bade didn’t move. They were a long way from the various routes down. If this was an earthquake that could bring down the mountain, they had no hope of escape. He slipped from his cot and sank to his knees, closing his eyes. There was no fear in his heart, for all the constant gnawing peril of past months. Something else filled him, some other flicker that quickened his heart.
The scars on his face and body began to tingle. Healed but still red and sensitive, they were ever ready to chafe, to split and bleed. This was something new. The rumble in the ground pulsed in conjunction with his scars, as though the two were connected. The wound had changed him, Bade had known that much, but now he felt it in other ways. As though his flesh had been peeled back, his soul exposed to the world, and before it had closed again, something had slipped within.
Not infection, nothing so mundane or unpleasant. Instead, there was more to him now, some part he had been lacking all of his years up to now. It was as though faith itself had seeped in – some spark of purpose or the divine that now drove him. He could tolerate all the foolishness and frippery of the Knights-Charnel, their temples and creed, because none of it mattered. It would all be burned away in the presence of the divine.
He turned towards a great chamber, one he could feel the presence of even though it was hidden behind vast stretches of rock and darkness-infested tunnels. Others did the same, some already looking that way, and now the fear waned. This was no earthquake but a stirring of something greater. Nearby he saw a ragged figure, bald head marking them as a mage, laugh out loud. Bade nodded to himself, sensing an echo of what that man or woman felt.
‘It is done!’ the mage called out. ‘It is complete!’
‘What’s complete?’ Exalted Olebeis asked, appearing at Bade’s side.
She looked drawn and exhausted. The patrols and night-time skirmishes had drained her as they had all the rest of his command. But, as with Bade, what remained was the strongest of them. All the fat had been burned off the remaining soldiers and mages. The iron core remained, their best fighters and those born with the instincts of a relic hunter. Those born to be beloved of the dark. Lean and hard-eyed, their losses had been few in the last week.