by Matthew Ward
"I can't stay," I said. "I've other visits to make before this comes to a head. I can't afford to waste any time."
[[You seek other allies?]]
"I do. Hopefully I'll find them. Can you meet me in the palace square at first light?"
[[I will be there, and so will any who choose to follow me.]]
"Thank you. The gate won't present a problem? I'll need the key."
[[The gate will not present a problem,]] Zorya replied with amusement. [[This, at least, I can promise.]]
Bidding Zorya farewell, I made my way around the pool and left the chamber. I half-expected Svara or one of the other sentinels to object to my departure, but it seemed their attention was tied up in debate. I also worried that I wouldn't be able to find my way back through the vaults, but this too appeared unfounded, and I found myself back on the quayside without incident.
*******
I'd given no thought as to how I'd get back into the city proper, and had supposed that I'd need to return to the cliff side entrance of Solomon's lair. As it happened, however, fortune was with me. Whilst I'd been gone, a great slab-sided galleon had drawn up at the dockside. I pulled my hood low, and joined the throng of soldiers, sailors and merchants heading up towards the city. The bustling anonymity of the crowd saw me safely through the harbour gatehouse and into the city once more.
I left the procession as soon as I could, dipping into the welcoming shadows of the alleyways. Navigating partly by memory, but mostly by instinct, I cut across the city, aiming for the Cathedral.
It was just after I'd entered the fourth alleyway that a hand touched my shoulder. I spun around. My fingers brushed the hilt of my sword, but fell away when I saw that the hand had belonged not to a footpad or suspicious constable, but to Elspeth.
"I've decide to give you another chance," she said primly. She wore a presumably stolen travelling cloak of rich red cloth, and regarded me with the expression of aloof amusement I'd come to so strongly dislike. Nevertheless, it gladdened my heart to see her.
"I don't deserve it."
"You don't. But it has come to a poor thing if a goddess cannot show largesse to an unworthy mortal, has it not?"
"It has indeed," I said with a smile. "I'm sorry for what I said."
Elspeth waved the apology aside. "Did you meet with any success, or have you spent the time shouting at anyone who tries to help you?"
"I don't yet know," I said, and told her of my experiences.
"Pffft," Elspeth snorted. "Serathi love the sound of their own voices too much. It seems drudgedom changes little."
That observation struck me as unkind, especially given the circumstances under which Elspeth and I had met after my resurrection. However, I couldn't think of any way to deliver a rebuke that wouldn't cause offence, so passed no comment.
"What's your plan?" Elspeth asked. "Assuming you have a plan."
"A part of one, at least. I want to take a look in the Cathedral."
*******
Thankfully, reaching the Cathedral of Sidara was no difficult task. The light was fading from the sky, and with it our chances of being seen for what we truly were. The Cathedral itself was quiet. Nevertheless, there were still plenty of priests and altar boys hurrying back and forth across the tiled floor, busying themselves with candles and incense for the evening's ceremonies.
"I hope you're not going to make me watch this nonsense," Elspeth hissed as we made our way across the nave.
A priest fussing over golden candelabra shot us a querulous look glance before returning to his labours.
"No, I'm not," I said patiently. "And please be quiet. I'd rather not draw attention."
The door to the northern bell tower was guarded by a bored-looking praetorian. A touch from Elspeth set him dreaming, and we slipped into the broad stairway beyond. After a long and wearying climb, we stood in the belfry. Though the white stone of the chamber walls was as beautifully cut as any in the Cathedral, it lacked what I was looking for.
"Quickly now." I pointed up at the five brass bells above our heads, the smallest of which was twice as wide as I was tall. "I don't want to be here when those start ringing."
"It might help if you told me what we're seeking," she said archly.
"A friend of yours. At least I hope so."
"There's no one here."
"We'll try the other tower." I headed towards the outer door.
Beyond, a stone walkway connected the northern tower, where we stood, to the southern one. Its primary function was to support the vast window of stained glass that was suspended between the two towers. The sloped roof of the nave was a worryingly long way down, and the cobbled streets below were even further below.
Oddly, the door to the southern tower was locked, or at least blocked, but it opened easily enough beneath my shoulder. The chamber beyond was almost identical, though it seemed curiously lived in. There were two rough wooden tables; one laden with books – another with the remains of a meal. And standing before me, regarding me uneasily, stood the fabled Angel of the Cathedral, or rather the two Angels of the Cathedral.
"Adanika. Elynna," I said, as Elspeth closed the door behind us. "I think it's time we had a talk, don't you?"
Ten
Lord Karov lived in a luxurious estate in the Northern Quarter. He, like many breathtakingly rich citizens, paid no small attention to ensuring that his private property remained exactly that. A wall – complete with rampart – ran around the perimeter, uninterrupted save for a large brass gate at the front entrance, and a fractionally less imposing one at the edge of his lordship's private quayside. A second, smaller wall surrounded the house and gardens, and I had it on good authority that the space in between the two was regularly patrolled by members of Lord Karov's private guard. It was as impregnable as any holding in the city, and proof against everything from burglary to a small riot.
It wasn't, however, proof against me. I couldn't afford to let it be. Night had fallen, and time was short. Then again, I'd advantages neither a common burglar nor a riot could have hoped to possess – chiefly, the services of two serathi, and one goddess of the moon.
Walls were no barrier to Elynna and Adanika. Under cover of darkness, they'd flown Elspeth and I high over Karov's meticulous defences and brought us to a balcony. For as long as Elspeth and I were in the house, Adanika and Elynna would circled above, returning if called for – or if something went wrong.
We'd chosen our point of entry well. Judging by the liberally stuffed shelves, the padded armchairs and the small but expensive-looking bureau, it seemed we'd arrived at Karov's study.
Fortunately, Karov didn't have any family to speak of, having either made no offer – or at least having received no acceptance – of marriage since Arianwyn had turned him down. It also transpired he had very few servants, which further reduced our chances of accidental discovery.
The only problem was that Karov wasn't yet at home. Fortunately, he was due to return soon, or at least so his butler had claimed. I'd no reason to doubt the man's word – Elspeth had set him dreaming.
"How long are you prepared to wait?" Elspeth hissed impatiently. She discarded her cloak, and draped it over one of the chairs.
A firestone lamp glowed cheerily beside the bureau, but there was no other source of light. I'd have preferred waiting in darkness, but I didn't know the knack of dousing firestone.
"As long as needs be," I whispered, and wondered if it was true. First light, I'd told Zorya. "How's your friend?" I nodded at the butler, slumped quietly in an armchair.
"Never happier." Elspeth offered a wicked grin. "He's having a wonderful time. Of course, the longer that he stays in my dreaming, the more profound the sense of loss he'll feel when it ends..."
"You never told me anything about that," I interrupted.
"You didn't ask." She spoke as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. "A few hours here or there is harmless. He'll remember nothing. Only a very few are driven mad, and they're normally
a little eccentric to begin with."
I still didn't much like the idea, but supposed I could always knock him out before he reached whatever the point of no return was. If, of course, Elspeth told me before it happened. I'd prefer not to drive him to insanity on my account. It would have been kinder to kill him, and I didn't want to do that either. It occurred to me that my life – or whatever it was I now experienced – would have been considerably easier were I as ruthless as Solomon or Azyra. Nonetheless, I knew their path wasn't for me, and I hoped it never would be so.
"Let me know before it becomes dangerous."
She shook her head in wonder. "It's lucky for him that I like you."
"It's lucky for me that you're on my side, and not against me."
"It is, isn't it?" she agreed.
In the next hour we twice vacated the study for the comparative safety of the balcony whilst a guard made his rounds. On both occasions, we left the butler slumbering in the chair. Both times, the guard – a heavily-built fellow in Karov's livery of black and gold – let the man be. Possibly he thought it a kindness. Perhaps he thought it amusing that Karov might discover a sleeping servant in his study. I didn't care, not so long as he didn't approach the window.
Then, at last, a banging of the front door and a murmur of voices indicated that Karov had returned. I opened the door a crack, and stared down as his lordship shucked off a travelling cloak and looked around for the butler that should have been there, but wasn't. Responding to his master's confusion, the guard who had entered with him – the same guard who had twice made rounds of the study – leaned in close and whispered in his master's ear. After brief consideration, Karov tossed his cloak to the guard, and stalked up the stairs.
Easing the door back, I moved to one side, and jerked my head to indicate Elspeth should do the same opposite. She made it with seconds to spare. As the door creaked open, I saw that her cloak was still on the chair facing the door. I cursed silently, but it was too late to do anything.
"Dunstan?" Karov called irritably as he opened the door. "Are you in here, man?"
Karov took a long step into the room, his eyes settling on the sleeping butler. He opened his mouth, but the words were lost as I clamped one hand over his mouth and pinned his arms to his sides. Karov fought at first, struggling against my grip with more strength than I'd expected. He tried to shout, but my fingers deadened his words to a dull mumble.
"Stop struggling," I hissed in his ear. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk. Swear on your family's honour that you won't scream for help the moment I let go, and I'll release you."
Karov didn't respond. Elspeth took that as her cue to leave her position beside the door and look him up and down. I could only imagine the expression on Karov's face. Being attacked in your home was one thing. Elspeth was something else entirely.
"Why are you bothering with this rigmarole?" she whispered. "I'll set him dreaming. He'll tell you whatever you need to know." She smiled one of her disconcerting smiles, and Karov went very still.
"I told you before," I replied, quietly but insistently. "I don't need information. I need his cooperation. But at this precise moment," I told Karov, "I need your word. Do I have it? If I don't, we'll be gone before your guards can stop us, and you'll not know what you could have prevented until it's too late."
Those last words were mostly a goad. I was fairly sure Karov wouldn't break his word once given – he was too much the proud nobleman for that – and he certainly wouldn't pass up the opportunity to learn something to his advantage. A moment later, he gave a sharp nod, so I released him.
Karov didn't turn to face me, not at first. He had eyes only for Elspeth, who returned his gaze with a superior grin. Then his eyes flicked to the unconscious butler.
"Can I at least assume you've done nothing to harm Dunstan?" he asked, his voice level. Whatever panic Karov had felt upon entering the room was now gone.
"Assume so, if you wish," Elspeth replied unhelpfully.
I waved her into silence. "He's fine. He's only asleep."
The Tressian replied without turning around. "That's just as well. I expect better things from you, Edric." That surprised me. Karov knew my voice well enough, but I hadn't thought he'd have recognised my whisper. "The serathiel implied she'd sent you home under escort, but rumour told me you'd been killed. It seems both were incorrect."
"Not so much as you might think." I stepped past Karov to stand beside Elspeth. "The serathiel did send me somewhere." My hood was down, and the horrible implication of my pallid skin plain to see.
To his credit, Karov didn't miss a beat. "Ah." He crouched and carefully pulled back one of the butler's eyelids with a forefinger, then let it fall back into place. "I can see now why you're skulking about in the darkness instead of waiting downstairs as a proper guest should."
"That, and the fact that our peoples are at war again," I agreed. "I can't think I'd be a 'proper guest' under such circumstances."
Karov rose and smiled thinly. "Allow me to pay you the compliment of believing that such trifles wouldn't stop you if the need was there. You have a peculiar talent for single-minded action." The smile vanished. "Did you kill Magorian?"
"I wish I had," I replied, "but I've not so much as raised a hand to him."
"But you know where he is, don't you?" Karov asked.
There seemed little reason to lie. "I do. Solomon has him somewhere under the city. He still lived, last I saw."
"Solomon!" Karov's eyes widened. "What business have you with him?"
"To my surprise and regret, I find he and I have a common enemy."
"Me?"
"Only if you want to be." I paused. I'd thought long and hard about the best way to broach this subject, and had come to the conclusion that only truth would serve. "I need your help."
"You need my help," Karov echoed with a snort. "What aid can I possibly give you that your glowing friend cannot?"
Elspeth bristled at that but, for a wonder, said nothing.
"I want you to release Jamar," I said, "and I want you to keep your constables and praetorians out of the palace square at first light."
To my mild surprise, Karov didn't refuse out of hand. Not quite. "Under the circumstances, I don't see why I should grant either request."
"The serathi aren't your allies, not really," I said harshly. "They don't deserve your loyalty. To Azyra, you're a tool, a rock with which to batter the Empire, nothing more."
"That was made perfectly clear at Halmede." I must have looked confused, for Karov raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"
"I've heard that there was a battle, that's all."
"Azyra promised her support, and the serathi did take the field alongside our armies. At least, so I was informed. I wasn't there personally, you understand?"
"Of course," I said in as neutral a tone as I could manage.
Karov gave me a sour look. "Your army had a definite advantage in terms of numbers, but with the serathi at our side it should have been an impressive victory. But the serathi abandoned us." A shadow passed over his eyes. "I don't have the exact figures, but casualties were... substantial."
I closed my eyes and offered a brief prayer for those who had perished. "Why Halmede at all? It's worthless. I can't imagine why we'd choose to attack it."
"It wasn't your choice," Karov explained. "Azyra suggested we draw your army there. She refused to support us otherwise."
Elspeth shook her head. "Mortals are so easily manipulated."
"What does she mean?" Karov asked.
"You've been used as a decoy, Karov," I said, "a lure to draw off the Empire's strength." I was guessing now, based on what I already knew, but as I rattled through the facts I found no fault with my theory. "Azyra's not interested in helping you defeat the Empire, at least not directly. She's convinced a war between the Great Powers is almost upon us, and she's determined to win. She wants to bring back the Radiant, because this war – this Reckoning – cannot start without her. Howe
ver, before Azyra can do this, she wants to destroy the Empire."
Karov was staring at me suspiciously. "Why?"
"My ancestors sided against the Radiant the last time this happened."
"And you think that explains everything?" Karov shook his head. "I don't believe it."
"I'm not sure I do either." I ignored the disapproving look the words earned me from Elspeth. "But what you and I believe is hardly of importance. Azyra believes it, and she's prepared to lay the Empire low as a result. Magorian believed it. You know that he's been working as an agent for another of the Great Powers?"
Karov went very still and pale. "You are joking, of course."
"You know I'm not. You're too clever not to have suspected something. Magorian was part of the Cult of the Burning Lord. He had as much reason to want the Empire destroyed as the serathi, but he hoped they'd be weakened in the process, and the Burning Lord could claim the advantage. So he pushed you into breaking the alliance."
"He was a clever young man," Karov agreed, not quite conceding the point that his assistant had played him for a fool.
"Not clever enough. When Azyra first laid eyes on me, she knew I'd encountered Jack and Malgyne, and that I had a connection to Ashana. I bore their mark. Magorian's allegiance to the Burning Lord must have stood out like a beacon, though he couldn't have known. All the while he thought he was using Azyra, but actually she was manipulating him, just like she's manipulating you. If you let her, Azyra will have you fight the Empire to the last drop of your blood."
"I..." Karov began.
"Her only problem is that the weapon she planned to use – this Light of the Radiant – has been destroyed, or at least crippled."
Karov arched an eyebrow. "Your work, I take it?"
The image of Edina's sacrifice resurfaced unbidden, but I blinked it away. "Not exactly. But I don't believe they'll be using it any time soon. This leaves Azyra with a problem. She's going to have to destroy the Hadari the old-fashioned way: with sword and spear, rather than fire from the sky. The serathi are impressive, but there are only a few hundred. They'll find the Empire a challenge. Unless..."