by Stephen Deas
‘You do not have authority here, lady. None of us do. We must wait. We must be invited.’
There was little to see from the windows. The ledge jutted out over the deeper abyss with a single dark tunnel leading into the rock. Elsewhere the walls were sheer. Liang peered down to see if she could see how far they went, but they vanished into the darkness. She looked up then, trying to guess how far down they were. A mile perhaps? ‘How deep is it?’ she asked, but Lin Feyn only shook her head.
The Elemental Man shrugged. ‘Deep. That is as much as any of us knows. We do not come further than here now. Once, perhaps . . .’ He trailed off.
‘Why not?’
He laughed. ‘Enchantress, this is a realm of other creatures, of other rules and other ways. To intrude would be . . . impolite.’ And other things too, she thought, from the careful way he chose his words, but the killer clearly had no intention of explaining himself.
An hour passed, then two, then another. Red Lin Feyn hid her impatience behind her mask; the Elemental Man stood like a statue and Liang twiddled her thumbs until at last she saw movement in the tunnel and three figures appeared. Creatures, the killer had said, but to her they looked like men. Nothing about them seemed strange except that they wore veils to hide their faces.
They walked onto the ledge and stood before the gondola. The Elemental Man waited for Red Lin Feyn to seat herself at the table, then opened the ramp, shifted into air, vanished and appeared again at the Arbiter’s side. The three veiled men entered. Men, Liang thought, not women, but it was hard to tell. They were slender and oddly built, though she couldn’t say exactly what was strange about them. As one they bowed. The first stepped forward.
‘You are not welcome here.’ The veiled head turned to the Elemental Man. ‘You, earth-touched, know this. Your kind do not belong.’
Red Lin Feyn spread her hands across the table, the usual pause she made before she began, but the killer leaned forward beside her and spoke first. ‘Our kind do not name ourselves. The lady before me is Red Lin Feyn of the Dralamut. She judges those who live above when judgement is called for. The other is Chay-Liang, artificer of glass. One of you has come to the surface. I am here so you may explain yourselves. You do not wish the alternative.’ The threat in his voice was naked for a moment. The veiled man cocked his head as if to consider this. Liang winced. The violence in the air was something she could almost touch.
As the veiled man turned away, he said, ‘Earth-touched, you may pass. Alone. When you are ready.’
The air popped. The Elemental Man vanished and appeared again on the ramp, blocking the exit for a moment before he stepped aside to let the veiled men pass. They swept past the killer and away down their tunnel. The ramp eased closed. When it was sealed, the killer moved from one window to the next, closing the blinds. Red Lin Feyn didn’t even blink.
‘I am the Arbiter, killer,’ she said. ‘You are not.’
The killer bowed. He glanced at Liang and then bowed again. ‘I may not speak of the Konsidar to any who is not of Mount Solence or an initiate of the Dralamut, lady.’
‘Chay-Liang? Yet I brought her here.’ Lin Feyn reached a hand across the table and beckoned impatiently. ‘Chay-Liang of Hingwal Taktse, kneel before me.’
Liang approached uncertainly. She folded her legs carefully under herself and placed her hand palm down on the rosewood table between them. Lin Feyn turned her hand and gripped Liang’s wrist. ‘Chay-Liang of Hingwal Taktse, I summon you into the mysteries of the Dralamut. I name you navigator of the first rank. You will not practise your art without my permission. The many other rules by which you must now abide will be explained as opportunity presents itself.’ Her voice was quiet but a fury quivered through her. Her grip on Liang’s hand was so tight it hurt.
‘Lady!’ The killer was shaking his head. His hand rested on the hilt of his bladeless knife. ‘You cannot—’
‘I am a navigator of the fifth rank, killer. I have crossed the storm-dark to the Dominion of the Sun King, to Aria, to the dragon-lands, to Qeled and Scythia and to the Slave Coasts. I have the right and the authority to add to the number of the Dralamut as I see fit and I have done so. Chay-Liang, you are now a navigator of the Dralamut. Killer, explain yourself.’ Lin Feyn didn’t move except to release Liang’s hand.
‘Lady, this woman is directly involved in the crime of Dhar Thosis. You cannot take her as an apprentice at this time. You cannot!’ The killer spoke through gritted teeth.
‘If you do not trust my judgement as your Arbiter, killer, you are not fit to be at my side. I break no oath or rule of my title. You will depart our company and find another of your ilk who understands his duty more fully.’
‘Lady!’
Lin Feyn raised a hand to silence him. ‘Go, killer. Begone!’
‘I was instructed to stay!’
‘And I instruct you to leave.’
For a few seconds the killer stayed where he was. Then he unlatched the one window that would open and vanished into the air. Liang felt the flutter and then he was gone.
‘Close it, Chay-Liang. Do not let him return.’ Red Lin Feyn was trembling with rage.
Liang shut the window. With slow and careful movements Lin Feyn lifted the feather headdress off and pulled out the pins that held up her hair. She looked tired, but then she turned her head and smiled for the first time Liang could remember in a while. ‘Do not aspire to my title, apprentice. I would happily give it up but not to one for whom I cared. Are you willing to learn from me, Chay-Liang?’
‘I am, lady.’
‘I am ten years younger than you. Let neither of us forget that. I have knowledge you do not. You have experience and wisdom I may yet find I lack. Shall we begin with the Konsidar and the creatures who dwell beneath and the true nature of the killers, why they are called the earth-touched and what the storm-dark really is? Or shall we begin with jasmine tea?’
Liang bowed and went to the kettle. When she had made the tea and turned back, Lin Feyn had the glass globe of the storm-dark on the table. She had her hand on it and was rolling the fragment of the maelstrom back and forth and from side to side with her mind as though it was the easiest thing in the world. As Liang set the tiny glass cup beside her, Lin Feyn passed her the globe.
‘Keep your hand on this at all times. Do not think of it, but hold it. We may be here for a while.’
And so they sipped tea together and Red Lin Feyn told Liang what everyone secretly already knew: how there had once been four divines, the lords of the sun and the moon and the ladies of the earth and the stars, remembered even now in little ways in corners of Takei’Tarr and revered in the realms of the Sun King and of Aria. How each had made a race of creatures in their own image: the children of the sun, who would become the peoples of Takei’Tarr and the Dominion and all the other realms; the sorcerers of the moon with their white skin and their silver eyes, few but with near limitless power, the half-gods whose war broke the world; and the earth-touched, most favoured children of the dead goddess, who changed their shapes and forms as it suited them.
‘You said four. What of the fourth?’
Lin Feyn shook her head. ‘They are forgotten. Even in the writings of the Rava. Perhaps they were never made.’
Liang was amazed, for even to speak of the Rava was a curse and Red Lin Feyn was the Arbiter, no less. For a second they looked at one another and then Lin Feyn laughed.
‘It will be hard for you at first,’ she said, ‘for the world is not what you think or have been led to believe. We grow up to imagine the mighty killers as the protectors of our ways, and so they are, but that is not their purpose nor was it ever. What is their purpose, Liang?’
‘They are killers of sorcerers.’
‘That is what they do, but why?’
‘To protect us.’
‘From what?’
Liang hesitated. ‘From . . . from subjugation. No?’ Red Lin Feyn was laughing again. ‘Then what?’
‘From being ensla
ved?’ The Arbiter shook her head. ‘Look at our race and how we behave. Do they lift a finger? No, because slavery is a part of us. No, no, no. You belong to the Dralamut now and you must see a larger canvas.’ She shook her head. ‘There are no killers here, Chay-Liang, and you must not believe all they say. There are copies of the Rava hidden in the Dralamut, and yes, the killers will do all that they promise if ever they find them, if they find that any of us have even looked at them, but all of us have, Chay-Liang. All of us. Its knowledge is needed if you are to cross the storm-dark. Feyn Charin read every single word as he sat at the foot of the Godspike while the killers hunted his mentor. You will read it too.’ She gave a toothy grin. ‘More tea, apprentice!’
Liang did as she was told. Lin Feyn got up and climbed the steps to the upper section. She came back holding a book, large and heavy and very old. She put it on the table in front of her. As Liang poured more tea, Lin Feyn pushed the book across.
‘The Rava, Chay-Liang. What purpose do the killers serve?’
‘I don’t know.’ Liang couldn’t take her eyes off the book. It was as though Lin Feyn had put a poisonous scorpion down in front of her.
‘Better. Much better. No, you don’t know, and nor should you ever assume otherwise. They hunt sorcerers to prevent another cataclysm. That may be true. They say they hunt the copies of this book because it contains the knowledge to make such a cataclysm possible. That may also be true. But some truth is not the whole truth, Chay-Liang. The Arbiter, above all others, must know the difference.’
She talked on, of how the half-gods had fallen to fighting among themselves and against their creator, how many had simply vanished, how the earth-touched had withdrawn to their safest places, to the realms of the dead they called Xibaiya while the war of the half-gods raged, of the Splintering itself, the cataclysm that ended the half-gods who remained and broke the world into pieces. How the breaking of the earth had slain the goddess-creator.
‘All of this you will find written elsewhere, in myths and stories. We imagine the half-gods and the earth-touched long gone, figures of legend, never truly real, but they were. Yet there are also things in the Rava that you will not find elsewhere. The Rava is dangerous, for it is the tome of all the gods of its time and there were not four but five, the sun, the moon, the stars, the earth and the Nothing that came before them all, and the story it tells is of the breaking of the world that came when the Nothing was unleashed, for a very fraction of a moment, from the prison in which it was held. That is a secret you will not find elsewhere. You must never let the killers know you have learned it, for they will kill to keep it, yet it is the secret of the storm-dark.’
She reached across the table and tapped the book. ‘It’s all in there. The last priests of the old ways wrote down everything they knew before the killers found them. The goddess of the earth was slain when the Nothing burst free, but in her dying she made a cage in the ruins of Xibaiya and captured it once more. All but a few ways between this world and Xibaiya were destroyed – here in the Konsidar, others in other places, in the Queverra, once – but those were abandoned long ago. Here the Rava is incomplete, for it does not say the cause. The earth-touched remained in Xibaiya.’
‘Xibaiya?’ The enormity of what Liang was hearing kept slapping her, making her head spin and her skin turn numb. ‘The Elemental Men are from Xibaiya? Are they dead?’
‘They are people like you and I, Chay-Liang, but they carry a piece of something else inside them – a fragment of the fallen goddess. It changes them. An Elemental Man is a fusion. They are both now.’ She said it lightly as if it was nothing, as if Liang would somehow understand. ‘The skin-shifters are the same in some other way. On this the Rava has nothing to say. Unfortunately.’
She leaned forward and sipped her tea.
‘Something has changed, Liang. It began twenty-three years ago when a new star lit the sky above the Godspike at the exact end of the year. Do you remember it?’
Liang nodded. A beautiful light had bloomed like a new moon on the night of midsummer. It had lasted for a week and everyone across Takei’Tarr had seen it.
‘I remember it too. I was a girl then. After it was gone, the hsians of the thirteen sea lords and the Arbiter of the Dralamut met in secret to consider it in the Palace of Forever. Nothing was resolved except that the star must carry some great meaning. The hsians went back to their lords and hatched their plans. Quai’Shu’s dreams of dragons were born on that day. This foolishness between Xican and Dhar Thosis and Vespinarr is a scratch on the surface, Liang. The killers had a hand in bringing dragons to Takei’Tarr, and the moon sorcerers too, who never came out of their towers in the Diamond Isles and were nothing but myth and legend until Quai’Shu went to their island and called them from their diamond towers and they actually came. Dragons in Takei’Tarr, that’s what they wanted, all of them. In hindsight it’s so obvious. They know something, and the Righteous Ones in their gloom, they know something too.’ She frowned. ‘Six years ago, in the desert by the Godspike, one of the ring of needles cracked and the storm-dark began to shift. You know this.’
Liang nodded.
‘It has not stopped. The change is slow but it continues. Something changed in Xibaiya as well at that time. We cross the storm-dark, Chay-Liang, and when we do, we stare into the very heart of death itself. We go to places the killers can no longer imagine. For six years the Righteous Ones have been creeping out of their caves. The skin-shifter we seek now isn’t the first. It is little more than six years since, in Aria, an army of the dead scourged that land, since the Ice Witch rose, since the founding of the Necropolis. Across all the worlds, Liang, it has been anathema for a thousand years to bury the dead and consign their souls to the dead goddess of Xibaiya but in these last handful, in both Aria and the Dominion, the dead who die without the light of the sun or moon or stars, without fire or water or wind, no longer rest in peace but rise again. In our world too, Chay-Liang. In the Dralamut we have poisoned condemned slaves in lightless caves and seen them die and rise once more. The sea lords push the sun king towards holy war against the Ice Witch for their own ends. Dragons come to Takei’Tarr. Skin-shifters roam from the Konsidar. I will judge the guilt for the burning of Dhar Thosis but there is far more to this and I would penetrate its mystery. The killers try to hide what is happening because they are afraid. They think to keep it from the Dralamut but they know more than they are saying, Chay-Liang, and so do the Righteous Ones of the Konsidar. When our new killer comes, you will say nothing of this, but do not trust his answers. They hold the reins of our avaricious sea lords and see that the shifters remain in their homes; and so we shall gather what knowledge we can and pretend that that is all that matters. We shall keep our peace despite what we know.’
Liang thought of the body of Baros Tsen T’Varr, which wasn’t his at all. For now, she mused. For now.
Red Lin Feyn seemed to read her mind. She nodded. ‘For now, yes. Until we are certain of our course.’
A killer came to them not long after that, a different one. His words were terse. ‘Lady Arbiter, the Righteous Ones of the Konsidar claim ignorance of any skin-shifter come to the surface.’ He shifted uncomfortably, frowning deeply.
‘Then they lie. Watch them.’
‘Yes, lady. They . . . they are unusually perturbed, lady. I cannot say for sure but I believe there has been some disturbance elsewhere.’
‘The Queverra?’
The Elemental Man came closer. He looked confused. ‘Lady Arbiter, there is more. At the eyrie. Lord Shonda escaped, though briefly. It appears the alchemist stole four dragon eggs in the night. The glasships that suspend the eyrie were let slip, perhaps in an effort to destroy it, all but one glasship which flew away with both alchemist and eggs. Yet . . .’ He stared at Chay-Liang. ‘Lady, we know of only two who might control those glasships. Lady Chay-Liang and Baros Tsen T’Varr. And Baros Tsen T’Varr is dead. And the alchemist, who many eyes claim left with the glasship and its eggs, remains am
ong us.’
‘Baros Tsen is not dead, killer.’ Red Lin Fey bared her teeth and then started to laugh. ‘The skin-shifter. Back, and as fast as we can. And killer, set a watch on the Queverra. The shifter will go there now, not here. If he leaves it before I reach him, you must be waiting.’
She looked at Liang and they exchanged a glance, both wondering the same: why would Baros Tsen help a skin-shifter?
46
Or Not, as the Case May Be
Sivan and Tsen caught up with the glasship again halfway between the underside of the storm-dark and the desert sand. Sivan shot the sled inside and slammed the ramp shut behind them. ‘Down! Now! As quick as you can.’ Tsen drove the glasship down as fast as it would go. Dozens of men on linxia were riding across the desert, closing on them. As soon as the gondola touched the sand, Sivan opened the ramp.
‘Out! Out! Get them out!’ he shouted, pushing at the eggs. His sword-slaves tried to lift them but they were too heavy. ‘Roll them!’ Dozens of riders were converging on the gondola. Sivan waved, urging them on. Four were pulling gold-glass sleds behind their linxia, each the right size for a dragon’s egg but dressed to look like a desert trader’s wagon. As each egg rolled out of the gondola, it was hauled up onto a sled. Sivan shouted at them to hurry. The first egg vanished on its sled into the darkness with twenty desert men riding beside it. The second and the third followed. Sivan drew out a knife as the desert men hauled the last egg onto its sled. He looked at Tsen and shook his head. He looked almost mournful.
‘You knew this would come, T’Varr.’
Tsen looked at the knife. ‘Yes. I did. But why now? Why not just pitch me into the storm-dark from the back of your sled, shifter? Surely that would have been easier?’
‘I was still . . . hoping that it could be otherwise. But now it comes to it . . .’ He shook his head. ‘The earth-touched won’t fall into the storm-dark with the rest and this glasship simply doesn’t travel fast enough. They’ll find you and your eyes have seen too much.’