by Phil Tucker
The chamberlain shifted his weight, his broad, placid face betraying nothing of his emotions. "You speak of trade. What would you desire in exchange?"
The chamberlain has political power, thought Iskra. "Protection. The forces that cast me and mine into exile wish to see us dead, and though we have defeated the first army they sent against us, we shall not be able to hold out against a second. When the time comes, I would ask that you send men and Sin Casters through my Lunar Portal to help us defeat this enemy."
An intensely textured silence followed this statement. For those with an understanding of court, it must have spoken volumes.
A gaunt lady dressed in purple and yellow silks took a step forward. Her skin was ashen, her hair gray, though she couldn't have been more than forty or more. Was she suffering from some illness? "Lady Kyferin, how long do you believe it will take you to begin your mining operations?"
"It is hard to say. The area around the Black Gate is infested with demons. We will need to clear them out and find a means of controlling the Gate before we can safely begin to extract the stone." Curse this woman. She had struck at the center of Iskra's greatest difficulty.
A black-bearded man in brown robes who had clearly been a warrior in his youth shook his head. "We don't have months. Our fleet needs to set sail immediately with reinforcements."
The emperor raised his hand. "That will suffice for now. Lady Kyferin, your proposition merits greater scrutiny. You are welcome as a guest at the palace. We shall speak more on this shortly."
Iskra bowed low. "Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty."
The chamberlain stepped forth and led the way down the center of the hall, back to the large double doors, which were opened by servants as they reached them. The chamberlain led them through the crowd that waited just outside, and Iskra ignored the stares and measured looks. On they walked through the palace, which proved to be an extensive and rambling edifice, till finally they were led to a suite of rooms with a broad balcony that overlooked the harbor.
A dozen servants brought in food and placed it on a central table, while maids rushed in and out bearing large pitchers of steaming water with which they filled a copper tub that stood in the center of the bedroom itself.
The chamberlain stood still amidst all this activity, his eyes alight with intelligence, his expression bemused and calm. "These are to be your rooms while you remain at the palace, my lady. For your safety, I shall post guards at the door and below the balcony. There are those in Agerastos who will not welcome your presence here, and may seek to violate all etiquette by making that expressly known to you."
"Thank you, Chamberlain." A wave of exhaustion passed through her. She fought to hide it. "These rooms will suffice."
"Very well." He gave a shallow bow, gestured to the servants to follow, and withdrew.
Iskra allowed herself a deep sigh of relief and sat down on the edge of an ornate and distinctly uncomfortable chair.
Tiron quickly explored the suite of rooms and then posted Hannus on the balcony and Ord by the front door. Orishin bowed low, unsure if he should leave, but Iskra stopped him with a gesture. "Now, my friend. Please, tell me your interpretation of what just transpired."
Orishin tugged at his beard and hesitantly pulled a stool out from the corner. He perched much like a bird, ready to take flight at a moment's notice. "You have entered the eye of the storm, Lady Iskra." He paused, then grimaced. "Lady Kyferin. You did well to hide your name until the last moment. Had your identity been discovered in the street, well... "
Tiron rocked back on his heels. "Your Ennoian has greatly improved since we first met you."
"Yes." Orishin smiled apologetically. "It is always worthwhile to pretend to know less than you actually do, so as to learn more than you normally might. Now that I see the direction in which the wind is blowing, I have decided to raise my sails." He paused. "You are a fiercely intelligent woman, my lady, so I shall be direct and honest to save us both time. My presence in your retinue was overlooked, for which we can both be thankful. I had not expected to accompany you directly into the emperor's presence. Had I known, I don't know what I would have done. I like to think I would have done the same, but I am not the man I once was."
"Your point?"
"My presence will prove a liability. I told you as we walked here that I fell from the court's favor due to a disgraceful act of curiosity, which I framed in innocuous tones." His smile became nervous. "That wasn't the entire truth."
Tiron practically loomed over the man. "What, then, was the nature of your transgression?"
"There is a ready market for a certain kind of literature, shall we say." Orishin squeezed his hands together. "Especially when it involves the highest ladies of the court. I made a tidy sum to boost my scant income as a scribe by penning and releasing these pamphlets. I was good! Too good. I knew when I saw my pamphlets being read at court that I had to stop, but by then it was too late. I was caught, whipped, and cast out into the street."
Tiron turned to Iskra, one eyebrow raised. Orishin glanced at her as well from under his brows, his expression at once hopeful and afraid.
Finally, she smiled. "Very well. Once, perhaps, I would have judged you harshly, but that time has passed. We shall be discrete about your assistance. Now, to my original question. Your thoughts?"
Orishin hopped off his stool and dropped to one knee. "Thank you, great lady! Ah, to be back in the heady swirl of court life. How I have missed it. Now..." He stood and began to pace. "Much has developed that I could only guess at from my stall under the plane tree. Of course, many of my clients remain faithful and come by for my latest work in exchange for gossip – oh, yes, I still have to earn a living - but it was fascinating to see the truth with my own eyes. You were most bold, my lady, with your assertions! And entirely accurate." Orishin stopped to give her a respectful bow. "You said in a few sentences more than most courtiers will dance around for months. Marvelous! And dangerous."
A refreshing breeze blew in through the open doors that led to the balcony, the air smelling of brine.
"How strong is the emperor's opposition?" Iskra asked.
"Ah, that is hard to discern. It takes a brave man - or woman - to oppose the will of the great Thansos. I was but a child when he overthrew the empire, destroyed the Solar Portal and rode a wave of acclaim into the palace. He was loved! That statue in the great square truly depicts the man he once was. Even I can remember the hope, the energy, and the enthusiasm that filled our land. Men embraced as brothers, oppression was cast down, and so forth and so on." Orishin sat once more. "Then your husband's ships arrived, and everything changed."
Iskra nodded. "Twenty years ago, that would have been."
"Yes. Terrible times. The ocean waves that lapped our shores left behind crimson foam. Much that we had built since throwing off the yoke of the empire was destroyed. The emperor himself went into hiding when Agerastos was conquered, and the empire's officials were installed once more in the palace. In time, your husband left, and the emperor led a rebellion from the streets. Within two years Agerastos was freed again, but the tenor of the times had changed. Thansos himself, I dare say, had changed."
Tiron rubbed his jaw. "Is that when he started using that mask?"
"No, that came a little later. But the magic had already started to warp him, to rob his frame of its strength and vitality. Why, yes, he is a wielder of magic, the most powerful we have ever seen. It was he who discovered the use of Gate Stone, who discovered how to destroy the Solar Portal, and banished the spirit that emerged from the ruined stones. But after he regained control, he was changed. He had lost much, and was no longer loved. The suffering had been great. That was when he returned the worship of the medusas to Agerastos. I was young then, and remember well the bitterness of that time. There was much talk of returning to the empire, much fear of your husband's return. The emperor's closest friends turned against him, and he had them killed. Fear stalked the streets. He would not tolerate dissens
ion. Within a few years of regaining control, he was ruling alone with an iron fist."
Iskra leaned forward. "If he is so powerful, how does he now have opponents?"
Orishin sighed. "Do you know what it takes for an impoverished and weak nation like our own to mount an invasion like we have done? The taxes, the confiscation of ships, the marshalling of every resource across the island, the imperial decrees – a total war effort that has resulted in a great victory, but at terrible cost. We cannot sustain this war. We cannot send enough reinforcements to Ennoia. We cannot continue beggaring our people in an attempt to do what? Destroy the Ascendant Empire?" Orishin laughed darkly. "Hence the opposition. The emperor can kill a political opponent, but not his entire people. Dissatisfaction runs high. There have been numerous riots prompted by hunger. The military is firmly with him, but the charivari are increasingly opposed. And worse. There are other factions that even our emperor does not dare oppose."
"His daughter," said Iskra.
"Yes, the striking, beloved Ylisa. His darling daughter. Are you prepared to be shocked, my lady? She leads a growing faction of Ascensionists! Here in Agerastos. A growing faction that wishes to surrender and return to the empire, to a false golden age that never existed."
Tiron fumbled at his belt, clearly looking for his missing sword, then crossed his arms. "And he can't crush this movement because it's led by his blood?"
Orishin nodded and said to Iskra, "When your husband executed the emperor's wife so horrifically - ah. You did not know? It was a public spectacle that was meant to draw him out of hiding. It didn't work, and her death took a week. When she died, it is said the emperor swore both his eternal revenge and to love and cherish his daughter forevermore. Some say he cannot turn against her because of that very vow. But she plots against him, ever more openly, and in doing so encourages others to do the same."
Iskra nodded slowly, tapping her lips in thought. "Ylisa must not be pleased with my arrival."
"I would guess not," said Orishin. "Many who thought this invasion doomed may now reconsider if you truly deliver your Gate Stone. That is a reversal that she will not welcome."
Tiron eyed Hannus, alone on the balcony. Iskra could almost read his thoughts. "Thank you, Orishin. We shall send for you when we have need. Know that your assistance will not be forgotten."
Orishin rose smoothly to his feet and then bowed low. "My thanks, Lady Kyferin." With that he walked briskly from the room.
"We are in danger," said Tiron.
"Yes. But there are opportunities here that I had not hoped for." Iskra walked to a side table where a decanter and elegant wooden cups were set.
"Best not," said Tiron, stepping up and placing his hand over the decanter.
Iskra hesitated then nodded. "Very well. But as I was saying. Ylisa wants to end her father's war effort. What if ally with her? We need not turn irrevocably against the empire. If we could convince the emperor to recall his forces, then we could return to Ennoia on a wave of good will and petition the Ascendant's Grace to redress the wrongs done to us."
Tiron's eyes widened in surprise. He clearly hadn't anticipated that line of thought. "But he sent a Virtue against us. Why would he forgive Makaria's death?"
"Because we could save the lives of countless others," said Iskra, a small thrill running through her. "Imagine: we could end the war if we but ally with Ylisa. We need not imperil our souls. We need not court damnation. There is a path home that leads from the emperor's chambers to my son."
Tiron rubbed at his jaw and stepped away. "Perhaps. But you heard of the oath the emperor swore. How would you convince him to recant it?"
"I don't know. I'll have to discuss that step with Ylisa. Soon."
Tiron grimaced. "The sooner the better. I thought at first the guards in the hall and below the balcony were to keep us in. Now I see they might genuinely be there to protect us."
Iskra nodded and stretched, a wave of exhaustion passing through her. "We need to be wise with our resources, including ourselves. I am going to bathe and rest. With luck, the emperor will summon us this evening to either meet or dine. If we can survive until then and find a moment to converse with Ylisa, we have a chance."
Tiron bowed. "I shall do everything in my power to ensure that, my lady."
Iskra smiled at him. She felt a sense of loss that events had prevented her from having even a moment alone with Tiron, to address his strange formality, his stiff propriety. Their eyes met, and she saw an awareness in their dark depths, a response. She smiled.
"I know, ser knight," she told him quietly. "It is why I chose you above all others to accompany me on this venture."
Tiron's head jerked back as if she'd slapped him. He stood smartly at attention then gave her a stiff bow. "Any knight of yours would do the same. Good evening, my lady." So saying, he turned and marched out onto the balcony.
Iskra stared after him. What had she said? Had she given offense? Perhaps she had misread him, had mistaken his loyalty for affection. Was she a fool to think he could forget his wife and son? The grief that had sustained him over the long years in that cell beneath Kyferin Castle?
Iskra retired to her chamber and closed the door gently. Now was not the time to divine the truth behind Tiron's coldness, but if he wished for formality then she could provide that in ample quantities. She turned to face the steaming bath and with an effort put all thought of Se Tiron from her mind. If given the chance, the emperor would see her this evening. She would not present herself as a determined adventurer but as the most elegant and poised of Sigean ladies. This was a battle she knew how to fight, and though her skills hadn't been used in decades, she had been raised from birth for just such a contest.
Iskra let her clothing slip from her shoulders and sighed as she stepped into the hot water. This contest was just beginning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Audsley took a deep breath and stepped to the edge of the ledge. The twin honeycomb walls extended back toward the airshaft's tunnel that lay before him, marsh-fire green and ghostly. The air was heavy and still. Aedelbert was sitting to one side, shaking his wings out nervously. Audsley didn't blame him. This was the height of foolishness. Who was he to go to war? Who was he to pick up the instruments of battle, infernal as they might be, and hunt down a demon in the depths of its own home?
Madness! But such were the times. He wished he could retreat back into the lab for a glass of honeyed milk and some biscuits, to think this over, perhaps read a little more of the manuals he had discovered, but alas, the time for indecision was long gone. Now was the time for fell-handed action.
"I go, Aedelbert." Audsley gazed out into the darkness. "I go in search, most likely, of my death. But this is the service I have sworn!"
Aedelbert canted his head to one side and chirped nervously.
"I know, I know, I must look a fool. But judge a book not by its gorgeous leather-bound cover, I've always said. Now, no more prevarications. There is an entire stonecloud to scour. Wish me luck."
Audsley reached up and lowered the goggles that had been sitting on his forehead over his eyes. They were bulky and covered the upper half of his face in a manner that made him feel almost claustrophobic; the polished black lenses were encased within a framework of thick metal wires and black leather, and their power was astounding.
Audsley blinked, and the darkness before him drained to gray. The depths became apparent, and he could see the thin strip of ground far below, where the two walls narrowed almost to touching.
A heavy presence in his mind stirred, coming to life, awareness filling its dark corpus as it noticed Audsley. The demon in the goggles. Audsley had been fascinated to discover that they were not all alike; some were lively and sharp, others ponderous, like an incipient landslide. He quickly dropped bars of light around the demon, encaged it completely and set it aside.
That done, he bent down and picked up the gauntlet. He did so carefully, wincing as he slipped his hand inside its bulky shape. The
metal glove molded to his hand, and immediately the runes began to burn and smolder along its edge. Audsley gulped and raised his hand, palm extended into the void, and cried out the name of the rune.
Flame roared out in a terrifying gout, blank white in his vision, scalding his eyes and splitting the night, extending to a reach of ten yards before he clenched his fist and cut it off.
Enjoy my power, whispered the second demon to enter his mind. It is yours.
What worried Audsley was that the gauntlet's demon was no longer making any attempt to attack him, to take control of his mind. It had become biddable, pleased to be of service, a servility that Audsley trusted not at all. He dropped a cage of light around it as well, sensing the demon's amusement as he did so, and shoved it next to the first in the corner of his mind.
There is no need, but I understand your caution, said the demon. In time, you will find me your greatest ally. In time, you will learn to trust me above all others.
Audsley didn't bother answering.
He'd never attempted what he was about to do next, had never pushed himself so far. Turning, he reached for his last tool, his final weapon. It was embedded at the helm of the platform: the black blade itself. He gripped it with his left hand and welcomed the presence trapped within its depths.
Where do you wish to go?
A third and final set of luminous bars formed around the third demon. Audsley took a moment to simply focus, to maintain his concentration. Within his mind now he visualized three distinct cages of light. He allowed the image to imprint itself on his consciousness. Could he maintain them while engaged with the world? He was about to find out.
He addressed the third demon. Nowhere, yet. I claim you as mine. Release this platform.
There was a startled silence, and then Audsley gritted his jaw and pulled the blade free. It slid out reluctantly at first, then faster, till it slipped free smoothly at the last and Audsley staggered and almost fell.