“I believe they both did the right
thing, Tem,” The Hunter said softly.
Her children were worryingly quiet. They had been so throughout most of the evening. How she wished Medea would speak her mind as she used to!
Artemi glared at the man. “I do not appreciate you blurting such poorly considered things in front of his son and daughter.”
Tallyn Hunter made a weak attempt at a look of apology.
“So you left the eisiels by his body to cover this up?” Koviere asked.
“No. Dorlunh did that. A small mercy.”
The giant and Selieni looked genuinely hurt by the revelation, and Artemi felt her guilt begin to surface. “I’m sorry I did not tell you. It was easier for everyone to believe...”
Her eldest son came to help her back to her seat. “We all understand that,” he said in low tones.
Blazes, patronised by her own son! She frowned at him as he remained by her side. He was being protective. She pretended to ignore him. “Right or wrong, I admit I often wish that they had chosen another path. Dorlunh could have done things very differently.” And she doubted any of the men in this room would have made the same decision if they had believed her husband was a threat. Not even The Hunter, for all of his pronouncements, would have put a knife to Morghiad’s throat. “Dorlunh had free will like the rest of us.”
Silar pulled his mouth tight. “Free will isn’t that free. The decisions we make are controlled by our personalities, our experiences and what other people expect of us. If that wasn’t true, I’d never be able to predict anyone’s actions.”
“If we are not capable of making alternative decisions, then how is it that
the world I visited not so long ago exists?”
The general took a sip of his ale, swallowed and met her eyes. “There is always a degree of uncertainty. Something else in that place must have been different. Perhaps a moth flapped its wings twice more before it died, and the air currents knocked an oak seed out of place, and it grew somewhere else. And that somehow led to Hedinar making a different decision when Acher tripped over a branch in the fight. Who knows? It’s like throwing a dagger over the castle roof when you don’t have the strength. It cannot happen. But if
you tried to throw it a hundred times, there’s a small chance that just once you would succeed. So yes, out of a hundred worlds, Dorlunh might have made a different decision in one of them. But most of the time we are very predictable creatures.”
The Hunter folded his arms and huffed loudly.
Very predictable... unless we are beset by madness, Artemi thought to herself. “We must begin preparing for Mirel. Whether she’s ours or another world’s, I want her captured this time. And I want it to be permanent. If Artemi could achieve this one thing,
then she could die knowing her children would be safe. And death could not come soon enough; she was too weary to fight many more battles.
Cold Rock after cut stone swept by Silar’s head as he paced down the underground passage. He hated the tunnel that led to the tombs and chamber of light. It reminded him far
too much of Cadra’s dank corridors. He cursed as he tripped over another unseen ledge on the floor. Why couldn’t his blasted mind do him a favour and predict those? Artemi and her brood of children paced ahead of him in the darkness, apparently not requiring any sort of illumination to guide them to the chamber. It had not been necessity that had brought Silar to accompany them, more of a deep feeling in his gut that he should stay close to his queen.
When they reached the lightfilled cave he breathed a sigh of relief, and promptly moved towards the
glowing air at the centre. It played warmly over his hands as he moved them through it, but he strongly suspected he could not feel the same sensations as the others. It was a strange place he visited rarely, though it often seemed to produce very vivid dreams over the subsequent nights. In one of them he walked for centuries though a lifeless forest. Alone. He did not like that dream at all. He turned back to Artemi, who was squeezing her youngest son tightly. Already Kalad looked identical to the young Kahr Morghiad whom Silar had met as a boy, but for the eyes.
The queen relinquished her grasp reluctantly, and allowed Medea to take him. The children would stay down here until the threat of Mirel had passed or, if the worst were to happen, they would carve their path through to Achellon. Silar could only hope that the Law-keepers, as Artemi described them, would be amenable to their new visitors.
“Time to go,” Artemi croaked. Her worry was plain to see. She led Silar through the glowing blue portal, back into the darkness. Her hand clutched tightly to his arm.
“You haven’t let the monster
loose since you returned from that other place, my lady. I make that over eight-and-a-half years. Now is not the time to reawaken it.”
The queen’s breath broke rhythm, and there was a pause before she spoke. “Of course I won’t! It would kill Mirel. I wish to capture her.”
“Yes, I know that.” He caught himself as he very nearly stumbled over another hidden lump on the floor. “I also know you sometimes struggle to remain as content as is necessary.” And he knew how vital contentment was in her battle. “Do not allow this to sadden you when the outcome isn’t set to be
the one you fear. We will succeed.”
“Thank you, Silar.” she whispered. “There’s something else – I spoke to Demeta yesterday – about the man who showed her the Sky Bridges...”
“And?”
“She described someone whom I ought to recall, whom I feel I can recall, but I cannot put a name to him.”
“You know him?”
“I think so... but... I...”
Silar tried to put the sounds of her words together with some of the resulting images in his head, but nothing productive came from them.
“The more you think of him, the more I can help you to identify him.”
“But I cannot, Si. As hard as I try, I can’t think about him. Odd, don’t you think?”
“Very.” He was glad to see the light that slowly filtered into tunnel exit. “You know Mirel will try to rile you every way she can. She will know about Morghiad and the children. She is the best person to draw that monster out of you.”
“Morghiad managed to keep it from her.”
“He walked a very thin line, my lady.”
“No. He was far stronger than anyone gave him credit for.”
The general bit down on a sigh. “You were his strength Artemi. He would have admitted that in an instant.”
Grumbles about his being overly sentimental rose from the queen, but he ignored them and forged ahead to the light of the palace. They worked their way up the crystalline stairs and into the autumn sun, where the guards paced the corridors in an intermittent charge of dark green.
“Do you think you will marry my sister?”
Silar almost fell over his own feet. “Talia?”
Artemi smiled warmly. “Do I have another?”
“Bloody... no! She is the one pursuing me. I cannot just marry her out of convenience.” What sort of husband would he be if his heart was already given to another woman? And how could he ever hope to satisfy her? Toryn, Sidav and Sindra had been just as mischievous in their hint-dropping, which only served to augment his guilt. And Talia just did not seem to understand. She would beg, bargain and connive her way into stealing a
duty that involved guarding him, which the other soldiers bore with surprising tolerance. How had she become so misled?
“Won’t you at least give her a chance, Silar? And if it fails, perhaps she will not continue to pursue you with such... dedication.”
“No.” Privately, he had investigated the scenario of some sort of relationship with the girl. But Artemi’s little sister was unpredictable, and that probably meant she was mad. Not a good sign. He was almost glad for her recent departure to the Southern Falls.
They walked steadily to the main courtyard, where he finalised the deta
ils of the city’s watch with Rahake and gazed from afar as Artemi convened with her assassins. Every man and woman in the army had been told to expect Mirel and to watch for her ice-blue eyes. They had been instructed not to engage her directly, but to keep citizens out of her reach. There was an air of real fear in the castle; few had forgotten her previous visit. Silar turned his eyes back to his queen once Captain Njeri had departed, and studied her movements closely. There was something worrying about
them, something that betrayed a deep sort of despair in her attitude. He knew that he needed to remain close to her today, but he still had not worked out quite why or what it was he was supposed to do. He knew she was not yet preparing to jump into the fires to meet her death, as he had so often seen in his visions. Not with Kalad still so young. Something else was wrong. Silar approached her quietly, listening to the conversation between the ancient fighters. His attempts at understanding them were futile, of course, since they seemed to prefer speaking in languages older even than
Koviere. He could, however, foresee the actions that their mysterious words predicated. Romarr mumbled something with soft vowels and harsh ‘s’ sounds, and the general’s mind was drenched with images of Mirel drowning in liquid fire. Artemi then responded with a long sentence, which was almost admonishing in tone, and the vision turned to one of a caged IceKill. A few choice words from The Hunter changed the image again to one of Silar being throttled.
“I appreciate your concern,” the general muttered as he drew close.
All five Kusurus turned and
blinked at him with their ancient eyes, which he found rather satisfying. Though Artemi failed to muster a smile, and that was very unlike her.
“Care to tell me what you have planned?” His tone was sweet.
“Surely you can already predict it,” The Hunter said, a sneer moving across his dark lips.
Artemi growled through gritted teeth and folded her arms.
“I was just being polite.” Silar formed a weak smile. “So, you plan to surround her and let Artemi do most of the hard work. You’ll fight her where you find her. That’s the best any of us
can do. Mirel is wise enough to know when she is being drawn. Hunter-boy and Khasha will permanently quench her, possibly with Selieni if Artemi is too exhausted. Then you’ll make her a special prison from the same stuff as the city.”
“That is about it.” The queen nodded slowly.
“She will bring a group of eisiels with her,” the general warned.
“And we shall deal with them,” Khasha said with unusual firmness. He was an odd man, who seemed to vacillate between striking lucidity and impenetrable absent-mindedness.
As Silar opened his mouth to reply, he noted Khasha’s eyes lose their focus once more. “Let me help.”
Tallyn chuckled. “You’ll only get in the way, lumper.”
“Bloody fires of Achellon! I’ll be there anyway.” And he was the country’s bloody general! What queen would enter battle without her general?
The dark-skinned Calbeni muttered something about Morghiad, which Silar supposed he’d rather remain ignorant of, and turned to Artemi. The queen looked as if she was about to chew her way through the castle walls.
“It’s like a blazed pissing competition!” she hissed. “Put your manhoods away for a moment and think about the very big problem we’re about to be handed. I need you to work together. Silar, if you want to be there I cannot stop you, but it will only take one swipe from Mirel and my children will lose another father.” She turned to address the Kusurus. “I want one of you at each gate every day until she turns up. Sleep there if you have to, but remain unseen. I will come to relieve whichever of you tires first. You know the signals.”
The group nodded, and rapidly
dispersed to their respective gates.
Silar watched his queen closely. She did look drawn. Vulnerable. A lengthy sigh escaped from her, and she raised her face to gaze at the skies. “It is almost exactly ten years since he died.”
Blazes. He had forgotten entirely. It would be ten years tomorrow. “Walk with me,” the general instructed.
Artemi made no complaint, and remained at his side as he strode back into the palace. He led her through the lighter corridors, up towards the skyborne administrative rooms and into
her offices. Running her fingers through her legendary hair, she sat quietly on the surface of one of her desks.
“You are becoming too morose.”
“Stop it, Silar. Words like those do not help.”
He kept his stance firm and folded his arms. “I’m worried about what I see. And I can see that thing rousing in you.” He needed to do something to prevent it, something to cheer her. But what?
“Don’t you have a plan? You always have plan, general.” She was
examining the floor closely.
“I don’t know.”
A lie of a smile touched her mouth. “Then we are lost.”
He sifted through just about every scenario he could think of, every possibility that could result from whatever action he could take. Words and platitudes were ineffectual, comedy abrasive and fighting pointless. Even his visions of a friendly embrace were followed by further visions of her wild mood and balls of fire. He could hardly recall her children from their place of safety to placate her now. Silar stepped closer to study her face. He must have
done so a hundred-thousand, million times since first meeting her, and still it struck him each time. On occasion he thought he found a flaw in it but, each time he sought to identify it, it disappeared. His eyes wandered to her lips: lips that could charm the most innocent of men into the most heinous of crimes. They brought about the inescapable visions of him taking liberties that were not his to take, and the inevitable consequences. None of those consequences, however, was a blast from the dark creature of her mind.
He swept forward to place a
hand beneath her chin and raised it slowly. Her dark eyes locked onto his. “Stand.”
Artemi did as she was told, but did not divert her gaze for an instant. She said nothing. She trusted him.
The sweet smell of purple wisproot mingled with her own scent, and the cool smoothness of her skin stole his fingers. How was she possible, in this world or another? Artemi was something beyond his understanding. It stopped his heart, and stayed his breathing. Silar moved his mouth to hers, and kissed her.
At first he was surprised at how
soft her lips felt, as if he had expected the hardness of an ice flow to greet his touch. But her entire body seemed to defy the stubborn rock of its owner’s character. Her arms slid smoothly about his neck, and her waist seemed to fit in the palms of his hands. It felt far better than he could ever have predicted. For the first time in decades, he was ready to –
BOOM
The entire room shuddered, and the furniture inside it rattled noisily. Artemi was thrown back against the desk.
Silar blinked, wide-eyed. “Was
that you?”
She shook her head, breathing quickly. “No. It’s her.” She bolted out of the office then, leaving the general to run after her in his embarrassment. Artemi was a very fast sprinter when she wanted to be, but her impetus had spurred her into impossible speeds. Silar found himself chasing a path of disturbed air and pointing soldiers rather than the woman herself. It reminded him far too much running after Morghiad years earlier. Blasted light, perhaps it was a good thing the king was no longer there. If he had witnessed what his closest friend had
just done...
Silar shoved his small feelings of guilt to a long-forgotten corner of his mind and pushed himself to run faster. A large company of soldiers had gathered to follow him by the time he reached the city, which had already assumed a deadly silence. The streets had emptied entirely. He raced under the arc of the levitating river, and found himself stumbling to a halt. Before him, clad in the black assassin’s garb of the Kusuru, with a red scarf and two protruding gale swords, stood
a small man with long, pale hair.
“Dorlunh?”
The light fizzled in streaking embers of orange and white across his eyes. He could not see a thing, or move. Blasted woman! Where had she leapt to before he’d jumped? The Hunter rolled onto his side and blinked hard. His arms and legs were still attached. That was a good sign. Something hot was falling onto them. Ashes? And how had she seen him? He had been so careful to keep his face covered. Dark shapes started to return to his vision, and those shapes were darting about like running people. Sound began to return to his ears: yells, screams and roaring flames. He pushed himself from the ground and pulled his hood to one side. The shadows quickly resolved to people, and eisiels. But there were more than ten of the monsters. Rows and rows of their wasted, burned bodies poured
through the city’s gate. How...? Tallyn did not have long enough to consider the logistics; he needed to reach the palace before she did. As the thought left his mind, a slight woman with dark hair loped gracefully past.
The Fireblade Array: 4-Book Bundle Page 119