Goldenfire

by A. F. E. Smith

  As she dragged herself to her feet, all tangled arms and legs as if her limbs were trying to climb over each other in their haste, a muffled bang sounded on the other side of the great wooden door.

  Ree recognised it, though she’d heard it only once before. A pistol being fired – it couldn’t be anything else. That was the whole point, that was what they’d been looking for all this time, that was what she’d raced up here to prevent. And she’d failed.

  She’d failed.

  She stumbled back to the door, dizzy with the bitter knowledge. Her hands shook with it. But she took out the set of lockpicks that Zander had shown her how to use – you never know when you might need to become a criminal in order to catch one – and manipulated them, mechanically, trying to suppress the one thought she really didn’t want to think, until she heard the soft thud as the key on the other side fell to the floor, followed by the satisfying clunk of the tumblers. And then she opened the door.

  The room was light. Thin curtains billowed in the breeze. Saydi stood in the middle of the floor, pistol pointing unerringly at Ree. Behind her, underneath the window, Ayla lay crumpled and still.

  Maybe now he’ll look at me, said the thought Ree didn’t want to think.

  The deep and utter shame of it got her moving. She didn’t know how to fight a person armed with a pistol, so the obvious course of action was to get rid of the pistol – ideally before Saydi could shoot her with it. And to do that, she needed to get close enough to grab it.

  So she started throwing things.

  The silver hairbrush from the dresser went first, followed by the matching comb and a small hand mirror. Saydi backed away, around the bed, and lifted her free arm to block the onslaught, but made no other attempt to stop it. Then the dresser was empty, and Ree wasn’t any closer to reaching the pistol than she’d been before. Panting, she stared at Saydi. Why hasn’t she shot me already?

  ‘It isn’t loaded,’ Saydi said. ‘Any fool would have noticed me dragging all the accoutrements through Darkhaven with me. Even you.’ She jerked her head scornfully in Ayla’s direction. ‘I only needed one shot.’

  She threw the pistol on the bed, and pulled a knife from her belt. Mirroring the gesture, Ree raised her own bloodstained weapon.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said slowly. ‘I thought we were … friends.’

  ‘No, you didn’t. You thought you were being kind to me.’ Saydi laughed, hard and bitter. ‘You know, when I first heard about you, I was afraid you’d be my only real obstacle. Another woman in the same position, trying to prove herself – surely you’d see what the others didn’t. Surely you’d be less quick to dismiss me as just a girl. But lucky for me, you were the most prejudiced of them all.’ Her lip curled. ‘I guess going on and on and on about wanting to be treated as an equal doesn’t stop you being a narrow-minded bitch yourself.’

  Ree flushed and didn’t reply; that barb was too accurate to be easily ignored.

  ‘The truth is, you ought to be thanking me,’ Saydi added. ‘Since I’ve freed your one true love to seek consolation in your arms. Oh, Captain Caraway, I’m so sorry Lady Ayla is dead, why not let me comfort you with my –’

  Ree went for her.

  It was a scrambling, disorganised attack, because the bed was in the way. By the time Ree got round the bedpost and into the space where Saydi was waiting, the assassin was more than ready for her. Ree had expected her to be more competent than she’d ever let on – after all, she’d hidden every other truth about herself – but the skill with which Saydi wielded her knife still came as a shock. Ree was used to seeing her in the training hall: a little clumsy, a little awkward, but with enough potential to become a decent warrior one day. Yet now, all that clumsiness was replaced by grace, and all the awkwardness had transformed into lethal intent. It didn’t take long for Ree to become uncomfortably aware that she was outclassed in every way.

  That, in fact, she stood little chance of surviving this encounter.

  She tried one move, then another – drawing on everything in her limited repertoire of knife attacks – but Saydi countered them all with ease. Gradually, she forced Ree back towards the wall. And when she nearly had her pinned, she spoke.

  ‘Let me tell you something about yourself, Ree,’ she said. ‘You’re one of those girls who prides herself on being one of the boys. And you’re so busy trying to prove something that you don’t notice you’re looking down on the rest of your sex far more than any man does.’

  Her tireless blade darted forward again, and Ree barely managed to turn it away.

  ‘And that’s why you were willing to indulge your little dream about Captain Caraway, even though he was happy with someone else,’ Saydi added. ‘Because women don’t matter to you. Even now, you’re only fighting me because you want to impress him, not to avenge Ayla’s death.’ She sneered. ‘I may be an assassin, but at least I have morals.’

  Don’t react. Don’t react – But Ree’s grip on her knife must have faltered, just a little. Enough for Saydi to notice and take advantage. She lunged forward, knocking the weapon from Ree’s hand. Disarmed, Ree backed away until her shoulders hit something solid.

  ‘But luckily for Caraway, you won’t ever be a Helmsman,’ Saydi said. ‘You’re simply not good enough.’

  Then Ree was pressed against the wall, with the tip of Saydi’s blade at her throat – she felt it break the skin –

  Behind Saydi, something moved. Someone moved. Captain Caraway, Ree thought muzzily – but then she blinked and saw that it was Ayla. Ayla, pale and angry. Ayla, alive. She took something from around her throat – a collar or a choker – and cast it aside. Saydi’s head whipped round at the sound, but Ayla had already gone. She was a swirl of black smoke, a falling robe. And then –

  Ree swallowed hard, suddenly glad of the wall at her back. She’d heard people talk about Ayla’s other form, of course, but nothing could have prepared her for being confronted with it. The golden unicorn filled the room, shimmering like firelight, and it was beautiful. Yet it was also terrifying. Ree took in diamond teeth and hooves like polished metal –the unimaginable sharpness of the spiral horn – and her insides melted in pure, abject fear.

  She was barely aware of the knife stinging her throat as Saydi pulled it away. The assassin turned to face Ayla, gripping her weapon with white-knuckled determination.

  ‘Monster!’ she hissed. ‘I’m not afraid of you!’

  The unicorn flung back its head and let out a piercing, wordless cry. Ree clapped her hands over her ears, but she could still hear it inside her skull. Saydi’s hands shook and her shoulders slumped – yet after an instant, they straightened again. Her grip tightened once more. And then she flung herself forward, her knife aimed straight at the unicorn’s heart.

  She’s brave, Ree admitted to herself. Braver than I am –

  Ayla lowered her head.

  The spiral horn ran through Saydi like a sword through a strawman. Blood burst from her back, shockingly bright, and Ree flinched at the heat of it spattering across her own face. Saydi screamed, and she kept on screaming when the horn was wrenched back out of her body. Ree flinched down, covering her head with her arms and closing her eyes, as the assassin fell to her knees beneath the unicorn’s rearing hooves –

  Then Saydi’s voice died into a gurgle, and it was over.

  Slowly, Ree lifted her head. The girl’s body lay in a bloodied heap on the floor. The winged unicorn stood above it, horn and front legs liberally splashed with scarlet. Ree didn’t doubt the creature’s ability to destroy her, too, if it chose. She froze, not blinking, hardly daring to breathe, wishing she could quiet the rapid thud of her heart.

  This is why they rule us. What did you think they were like, you silly girl?

  The unicorn stared at her as though it could read her mind. Then it shimmered, disintegrating into a swirl of smoke and remaking itself in the form of a woman. Standing barefoot in the spilled blood, but with no trace of it on her hands, Ayla looked
down at Saydi. Then, abruptly, she reached down and closed the dead girl’s eyes.

  Ree took a deep, harsh breath. The sound made Ayla look up at her, expression fierce. Ree caught a shifting in her eyes, like a flare of flame. But then Ayla grabbed her discarded robe and backed away until she came up against a chair, where she sat down heavily.

  ‘Well,’ she said, her lips twisting in a not-quite smile. ‘It seems I’m capable of retribution after all.’

  ‘You’re alive,’ Ree said stupidly. She was relieved to find that her overwhelming sensation was gladness. ‘I thought she’d shot you.’

  ‘She did.’

  ‘Then how –’

  ‘That, I think.’ Ayla’s gaze rested on the collar she’d discarded earlier, and briefly her smile became something more genuine. ‘Miles will be pleased.’

  Ree wanted to know what Ayla meant, but didn’t quite dare to ask. She’d just seen the woman kill someone, after all. If she closed her eyes, she could see it still.

  Self-defence, she reminded herself. And she saved your life. A sudden blush heated Ree’s cheeks as the truth of that hit her. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat.

  ‘I never said … I mean, thank you.’

  Ayla looked up at her, apparently glued to her chair as much as Ree was glued to the wall. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ Ree asked, then winced. It was such an inadequate question. But Ayla nodded as if she saw nothing wrong with it.

  ‘I’ve never killed anyone before,’ she said softly. ‘Training doesn’t prepare you, does it?’

  Ree shook her head. ‘I didn’t know you train too.’

  Another singularly stupid remark: she didn’t know anything about Ayla, not really. Not as a person, at any rate. Yet the overlord of Darkhaven only shrugged.

  ‘Tomas has been teaching me. Not all of it, only how to defend myself.’ Her gaze returned to the collar on the floor. ‘But alchemy triumphed, in the end.’

  Ree didn’t reply. The unreality of the situation was beginning to bear down on her. She’d just duelled an assassin, nearly been killed, and now here she was, talking to Ayla Nightshade as if they were equals. She wasn’t exactly sure of the correct etiquette at a time like this.

  ‘Um,’ she said. ‘I should probably rejoin the others and –’

  Ayla nodded. ‘Of course. But Ree…you did very well. Really. I think you’ll be an asset to the Helm, and I know far more about these things than Saydi did.’

  Ree blushed: out of pride, to start with, but then it deepened into embarrassment. Because if Ayla had heard everything Saydi said to her … Your one true love. You’re only fighting me because you want to impress him. Women don’t matter to you. Ree winced. I’m surprised she didn’t run me through after all.

  She waited for Ayla to ask her what it had all meant. Maybe in a pointed manner that said she knew exactly what it had meant, and she was judging Ree for it. Maybe in a different kind of pointed manner that involved an actual knifepoint. But none of that happened. Perhaps she hadn’t heard after all. Or perhaps – as Ree encountered a single penetrating glance from those green-washed Nightshade eyes – she had heard, but was choosing to ignore it.

  ‘Come on, then,’ Ayla said gently, as if to confirm that thought. She stood up and tied her robe close around herself. ‘We’ll go together. I expect Weaponmaster Bryan and Captain Caraway will want to hear our report, don’t you?’

  Captain Caraway … shit. Ree bit her lip. What with everything that had just happened, she’d forgotten that Ayla didn’t know about Penn. About Marlon.

  ‘Lady Ayla,’ she said helplessly, ‘Captain Caraway may not be there. Before I came after Saydi, he had us all searching …’ She took a deep breath, trying to find the words, but there wasn’t a good way to say it. ‘Your – Marlon – he’s been kidnapped.’

  Kidnapped. The word was familiar, but somehow Ayla couldn’t extract any meaning from it.

  ‘What?’ she whispered.

  ‘Penn took Marlon.’ The girl – Ree – looked even more scared than she had with the assassin’s knife at her throat. ‘But I’m sure someone will have found them by now.’

  Ayla barely heard the reassurance. Her mind was full of images. Marlon, playing with Tomas. Marlon, touching the ice-crystals she’d made with a small, careful finger. Marlon, hurt and frightened … A single sob escaped her lips, and she pressed it back with a fist. ‘Where did he take him, Ree?’

  ‘No-one knows. Captain Caraway had us all searching across the hillside.’

  So she couldn’t go after them. But nor could she sit and wait. It didn’t matter that Marlon was one of a very few surviving members of a bloodline on the brink of extinction. It didn’t even matter that he was Myrren’s child. What mattered was that he needed her, and she wasn’t there. Fierce love and bitter guilt lodged in her throat, almost choking her. Because she’d never been there, had she? Not really. Not in the ways that mattered.

  ‘Take me down there,’ she ordered Ree. ‘Straight away.’

  ‘Lady Ayla –’ But whatever protest the girl had planned to make was lost in the sudden dull boom that split the air from somewhere nearby.

  ‘Fire and blood,’ Ayla muttered. ‘What now?’

  She snatched her knife from the table by the window, then – after a moment’s thought – grabbed the discarded collar from the floor. Ree picked up her own knife and moved towards the door. And that was when a Helmsman arrived in a breathless rush.

  ‘You’d better come quickly, Lady Ayla,’ he gasped. ‘An airship has crashed into Darkhaven.’

  As it turned out, that wasn’t quite accurate: the airship had crash-landed on the hill outside the tower. And it was only a small airship, a two-seater – practically a balloon – though it looked large enough on the ground. Even as Ayla and Ree arrived on the scene, a blonde woman was climbing out of the shattered gondola, hands raised in the air, a dirty and blood-soaked bandage wrapped around one boot.

  ‘Don’t kill me,’ she drawled to the four or five Helmsmen who had surrounded the airship with weapons raised. ‘This is the second craft I’ve crashed in as many days, and I’m really too exhausted to defend myself.’

  ‘Sorrow!’ Ayla strode forward to meet her. Her fear for Marlon still ran through her veins, sharp and urgent, but now she had a second little boy to think about as well. ‘Where’s Corus?’

  ‘Elisse and Corus are safe within the borders of Mirrorvale,’ Sorrow replied. ‘I dropped them off before I came here. You’d have thought, having flown this piece of crap all the way from Sol Kardis, I’d have been able to make a further short flight well enough. But apparently losing half a foot screws with your spatial awareness.’

  Ayla’s fists clenched. I want my family. Curse you, Naeve Sorrow, I just want my family back –

  ‘Where’s Corus?’ she repeated, her voice rising despite all her attempts to stay calm. ‘If you think you can walk back in here without telling me exactly where he is –’

  Sorrow lifted her chin and stared her down, though the effect was rather spoiled by the fact that she was swaying on her feet. ‘Don’t you want my information, Lady Ayla? I came a long way to give it to you. Oh, and I notice you haven’t been assassinated. You’re welcome.’

  Ayla’s hand tightened on her knife, lifting it half-automatically between them. Sorrow tensed in response. Ree shifted uneasily at Ayla’s side. And then –

  ‘Naeve!’ A new voice broke into the charged silence, and swift relief left Ayla’s knees weak. Tomas. Does he have –?

  She turned. He was walking up the hill towards her. And there, in his arms … The knife fell from Ayla’s hand as she pressed a hand to her mouth once more. Tears stung her eyes. Marlon. He’s alive. He’s alive.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she heard Tomas ask, somewhere beyond the roar of blood in her ears. ‘Are you all right? Naeve?’

  Sorrow sighed. ‘I’d be better if everyone could get over this obsession with my first name.’

  �
��Seriously, what are you doing here?’ Tomas said.

  ‘Mama!’ Marlon called, holding his arms out to Ayla.

  And Ayla began to cry.

  It took a long time to sort everything out. Apart from anything else, Caraway wasn’t sure what to do first: see Marlon somewhere safe, or fetch the physician to tend to Sorrow’s foot, or find out why Ree was covered in someone else’s blood – or, what he wanted most of all, comfort the woman he loved. But Ayla and Sorrow solved that between them, Sorrow by fainting dead away – which was such an unexpected vulnerability that he didn’t quite know what to make of it – and Ayla by insisting that Marlon stay with her. So while the physician tended to Sorrow, and Ayla gave her nephew two years’ worth of hugs, Caraway questioned Ree.

  And he found out that Saydi had been the real assassin, and that Ayla had killed her.

  After he’d recovered from that shock, he gathered up the scattered recruits and told them the bare bones of what had happened with Penn; they all knew the lad had snatched Marlon, so they had to be told something. Then he sent them back to the fifth ring, along with a Helmsman who’d been entrusted with a message asking Weaponmaster Bryan to release Zander from prison immediately. Caraway needed to apologise to Zander, of course, but that would have to wait for another day.

  When Ree made to follow the others, he held her back.

  ‘You did well today,’ he told her. ‘Very well. I’m proud of you.’

  She blushed and nodded. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I’ll need the full story from you at some stage, I’m afraid.’ Despite himself, he glanced at Ayla again – because it was important that she talk it through, too. She’d killed someone, and that was bound to affect her, even if she thought it wouldn’t … He dragged his attention back to Ree. ‘Do you want to get it over with now, or leave it until the morning?’

  Ree looked from him to Ayla, before giving him an oddly rueful smile that made her look, all of a sudden, much more grown up. ‘Shall we leave it until tomorrow, captain? I’d like to see if Zander’s all right. And … and maybe Penn, too. I don’t suppose he’s feeling very good right now.’