The Palace of Impossible Dreams

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The Palace of Impossible Dreams Page 50

by Jennifer Fallon


  “Don’t you think it’s fascinating,” Medwen observed to her immortal sisters, “that one can live to be as old as Cayal without growing up?”

  “Tides,” Cayal said. “No wonder you three have been hiding out here in the wilderness for so long. There’s probably not a civilised place on Amyrantha left that’ll have any one of you.” He climbed to his feet, pushed his half-eaten breakfast aside and addressed his next words to Declan. “Come on, Rodent. Let’s find this feline we seem to have acquired and get back to civilisation. Another day here with these whining women and you’ll be wanting to die as much as I do.”

  Cayal pushed past Arryl and stalked out of the room. It was Medwen who broke the uncomfortable silence, turning to look at Declan. “You will look out for him, won’t you?”

  Declan gaped at her in amazement. “You want me to look after him?”

  “Cayal can help you, Declan, but I’ve a feeling you can help him more.”

  “You people are universally insane, you do know that, don’t you?”

  “You see,” Arryl said, “that’s why it’s up to you. You haven’t been immortal long enough for it to drive you crazy.”

  They slipped into Port Traeker a few days later, to a city in uproar. There were signs up all over the place about public meetings to discuss the return of the Lord of Temperance, posters stuck on almost every other flat surface advertising prayer services to appeal to their reborn god, and almost as many advocating an end to public professions of faith.

  Dressed as merchants, with a feline bodyguard in tow and two chameleon slaves in their entourage, nobody spared Declan, Cayal or Arryl a second glance. The hysterical aftermath of the aborted invasion of the wetlands seemed to be the only topic of conversation in Port Traeker, and everyone had an opinion about it. The only consensus, however, seemed to be that there would not be any further expeditions into the wetlands until somebody made quite certain that the falling disease which had afflicted the sailors of the first invasion fleet had been identified and could be dealt with.

  The other interesting by-product of their interference seemed to be the fracturing of the alliance between House Medura and House Pardura. That made a second invasion of the wetlands even more remote. Without the resources and the Merchant Marines of the two most powerful Houses in Senestra, it wasn’t likely anybody would be invading anything, anytime soon.

  There was, however, no sign of Arkady.

  The amphibians who’d taken Arkady to Port Traeker could offer no more help than telling Declan where they’d delivered her, which was a small dock not far from the Medura Palace. He didn’t think it likely she’d return there, and the only place in the vicinity which might tempt her was the Glaeban Embassy. Even Cayal laughed at the notion that she might have returned there. With her husband disgraced, and Jaxyn on the lookout for her, he thought it beyond improbable that she would go anywhere near the place.

  Declan wasn’t so sure, but he couldn’t risk approaching the embassy himself, and didn’t trust Cayal to do it for him. Besides, neither Cayal nor Arryl was Glaeban, and would be unlikely to get a useful answer out of anybody.

  He did, however, have a feline at his command. And she truly was his to command. Declan was used to Crasii following orders, but the blind obedience of the Crasii to their Tide Lord masters was a little frightening.

  “You’re wasting your time,” Cayal said, as he listened to Declan give Jojo her instructions. “Arkady wouldn’t be stupid enough to go anywhere near your embassy.”

  “Do you understand what I want you to do?” Declan asked Jojo, ignoring Cayal.

  “To serve you is the reason I breathe,” the little ginger feline replied solemnly.

  That’s not what I asked, Declan thought with a sigh, but he was learning that was as good as he was likely to get.

  “Then go. We’ll wait for you here.”

  The feline hurried out of the taproom, leaving Cayal and Declan alone at the table they’d commandeered, which looked out over the wharves. Arryl was out there somewhere, dressed like a Senestran lady with her servants in tow, scoping out a likely ship.

  “I tell you, this is a waste of time.”

  “I heard you the first two dozen times.”

  “But apparently you’re not listening to me. Arkady wouldn’t risk going to the embassy.”

  “The ambassador’s wife here is her husband’s cousin,” Declan told him. “If she was desperate enough, then she might have risked it.”

  “Which means if the cousin has helped her, she’ll say nothing, or she’ll get herself in trouble. If she’s not seen Arkady, she’ll have nothing to say and you’ll have simply tipped Jaxyn off to her whereabouts. Or Arkady has been there, been arrested, and is already on her way to Glaeba, at which point you and I are going to come to blows, Rodent, because the Tide is getting higher every day, and I have no intention of taking another detour to go hunting Arkady.”

  “Did you ever love her?” Declan asked, wondering if his dismissive attitude to Arkady’s fate was genuine or just a show he put on for Declan’s benefit.

  “Only when she’s nearby.”

  “Tides, but you’re a shallow bastard.”

  “Something for which you should be grateful, Rodent, ’cause the last time my heart got broken, I destroyed a whole damned country. Here’s Arryl.”

  Declan glanced over his shoulder to find Arryl crossing the taproom toward them. Tiji and Azquil, dressed as her slaves, walked a few paces behind her, their eyes suitably downcast. Cayal slid across the bench to make room for her, leaving the Crasii to stand nearby to await their mistress’s pleasure.

  “Any luck?”

  “There’s a fishing boat, an ice-breaker, at the far end of the dock.” Arryl told them, taking off her gloves. “The captain says he’s waiting for the spring melt, but the ship’s ready to sail now, if we’re offering him enough coin.”

  “Did you tell him where we wanted to go?”

  “I told him my husband and his brother wanted to go ice fishing. He told me you were mad.”

  “But he didn’t refuse?”

  Arryl shook her head. “He refused to go much past the southern tip of Senestra at this time of year, but a purse full of nacre tiles convinced him to consider it. He seems to think you’ll get all the ice fishing you want, without going too far south.”

  “Once we’re aboard and clear of Port Traeker, it doesn’t really matter what he thinks,” Cayal said. “When can we leave?”

  “On tonight’s tide, if we’re quick about it.” She glanced around with a frown. “Where’s Jojo?”

  “Rodent sent her to the Glaeban Embassy to check on Arkady.”

  Arryl looked at Declan sadly. “You can’t think she’d go there for aid, surely?”

  “It’s the last place I’ll look, my lady. If there’s no sign of her there, then I’ll accept she’s out of reach. Mine or Jaxyn’s.”

  Arryl put her hand over his and smiled encouragingly. “I’m sure she’s fine, Declan. Arkady is a survivor.”

  Declan appreciated her support, wishing he was as confident. Cayal said nothing further on the subject. Instead, he raised his hand and ordered another round of drinks.

  Some three hours later, with the sun almost set, they were about to leave the tavern for the ice-breaker Arryl had found to take them to Jelidia, when Jojo returned.

  “Well?” Declan demanded, a part of him hoping Arkady had not only taken shelter at the embassy, but was still there waiting for him. “Has she been there?”

  “I spoke to the felines on the gate,” Jojo said. “They told me Lady Aranville had been at the embassy, but now she was gone.”

  “Who is Lady Aranville?” Arryl asked.

  Declan frowned. “I don’t know. Did they mean Arkady?”

  “I don’t think so, my lord. When I pressed them, they said the only woman to visit the embassy in the past few months who was out of the ordinary was Lady Aranville. She’d told them to say nothing of her visit or her purpose in Sen
estra, and they were adamant about adhering to her orders.”

  “Which means Glaeba has the best trained felines on Amyrantha,” Cayal remarked, “or your Lady Aranville was immortal.”

  “How can that be? The only immortal in Glaeba calling himself an Aranville is Jaxyn. Diala is Queen of Glaeba now.”

  “The only immortal you know about,” Cayal said testily. “Now, are we satisfied Arkady’s gone, or are you going to stand here agonising over what some Glaeban noblewoman said to a bunch of mindless felines a month ago? The tide won’t wait you know. Not the ocean one nor the magical one.”

  Declan hesitated still, puzzled by the notion of who Lady Aranville might be, wondering why the felines would be so keen to follow her orders . . .

  But Cayal was right about one thing: there was no sign of Arkady and if he didn’t get on this ship with Cayal and Arryl, he may never find out what the Cabal was so desperate to learn.

  Even if he stayed here, he might never find Arkady.

  If he went with Cayal, on the other hand, he would learn the secret to killing an immortal.

  The decision to abandon the hunt for Arkady tore his soul to shreds, but he didn’t see that he had much choice. “We can leave now.”

  “Finally!” Cayal said, rolling his eyes. He turned to Arryl. “Lead on, Sorceress. You did get some furs for your little pets, I hope? It’d be a pity to have them freeze to death before we get halfway to Lukys’s place.”

  “I’ll take care of my Crasii. You just get us there in one piece.”

  “What about you, Rodent? Ready to meet your maker? Literally?”

  In all the fuss with looking for Arkady, Declan had forgotten about meeting Lukys, the man who may or may not be his father. “Just get on the boat, Cayal.”

  The Immortal Prince grinned; he was in the best mood Declan had ever seen him, which seemed odd until he realised Cayal’s sudden euphoria was probably because he believed that he would soon be able to die.

  Chapter 69

  Tiji had thought she knew what it was to be cold, but every day they drew closer to their destination, she had cause to revise her opinion. Jelidia was beyond cold. It froze the very marrow of her bones.

  And it was—the Immortal Prince had informed them cheerfully—still summer here.

  “Is something wrong, Tiji?”

  She turned her head, copping a mouth full of fur for her trouble. The hooded jacket Arryl had provided for her was a little on the large side. She spat out the fur and moved the hood aside with a mittened hand. “I’m cold.”

  Declan smiled. “I noticed.”

  She scowled, partly because he smelled like a suzerain, but mostly because he wore nothing heavier than a light cloak over shirt sleeves and a vest. Like the other immortals in their party, the cold meant nothing to him. And she was certain the only reason he bothered with the cloak was to stop his shirt from freezing.

  “Did you want to ride in the sled for a time?”

  Tiji glanced at the dog-pulled sled with deep suspicion. Ten harnessed, noisy, hairy and entirely-too-many-teeth-for-comfort dogs strained to drag the sled forward. The man who’d brought it to meet them at the coast when their ship (with its reluctant crew) weighed anchor was yet another immortal. This one was Taryx, and he’d been expecting them. Or at least he’d been expecting Arryl, Medwen and Ambria.

  Tiji didn’t think he was over the shock of meeting Declan yet.

  “Taryx says we’ll be there soon.”

  “So it’s not too late to turn back, then?”

  “Do you really want to turn back?”

  “Funny, I was going to ask you the same question.”

  Declan turned to look out over the white snowfield stretching before them. “I think we’ve come too far for that.”

  “We could go back,” she said. “You don’t have to get involved with these monsters, you know.”

  He glanced down at her. “Would you have listened to me if I suggested you didn’t need to get involved with Azquil?”

  She shook her head, but wasn’t sure if he saw the movement because it happened mostly inside her hood. “Finding the rest of the chameleon Crasii is a little different to you making nice with the immortals, Declan.”

  “How?”

  “Well, for one thing, my lot don’t go about sinking continents into the ocean. Or blowing them up with volcanoes. Or chucking meteors at people . . .”

  He smiled. “Point taken.”

  “So we can turn around, then?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’d be a fool to turn our backs on this opportunity.”

  “The opportunity for what? You to learn how to break the world in half the next time you get pissed at Ark—somebody . . .”

  If he noted her slip he was too polite—or still hurting too much—to remark on it. “What I mean, Tiji, is that the Cabal has spent thousands of years trying to work out how to destroy an immortal, and here I am, invited along to help kill one of them.”

  “That’s a very convenient excuse, Declan.”

  “Blame Arkady,” he said, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice at the mention of her name. “It was her idea.”

  Tiji felt for Declan, wishing there was something she could do or say to ease his pain. Nothing she’d said so far had helped. Of course, she wasn’t sure what he was suffering over the most—Arkady’s disappearance or the thought that he might have driven her away.

  “I’m afraid, Declan.”

  He put his arm around her. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Slinky.”

  She smiled, but didn’t reply, mostly because she wasn’t sure how to tell Declan the thing that frightened her most was not what the other immortals might do to her; it was what Declan—counting himself as one of them—would do to himself.

  It was much later in the day when the ice palace came into view. It should have been sunset by then. Tiji’s internal clock was telling her that, but the sun showed no sign of going anywhere. Squinting into the relentlessly blindingly light, Tiji gasped as they topped a small rise to find the palace perched on the glittering white horizon. Their first sight of the crystal palace caused them all to halt in their tracks, with the exception of Taryx who had to bring the dogs and the sled under control to wait for them.

  For once, Tiji barely even noticed the dogs or the stench of the suzerain to which she had thought she’d never grow accustomed. She was too entranced by the ice palace to care.

  “Tides,” Azquil exclaimed, stopping beside her on the rise. “Will you look at that?”

  The others stopped beside them, even Jojo. The feline pushed back her hood, her expression as awestruck as Tiji thought her own must be. “It’s amazing. Did Lord Lukys really build it?”

  “With my help,” Taryx said, climbing the slope to stand beside them. The dogs and the sled were still where he left them, the animals sitting patiently on the snow while they waited for their master to resume their journey.

  Arryl glanced at Cayal. “Lukys has outdone himself.”

  “You know he only built it to show off, don’t you?”

  “Then why build it here, Cayal, where there’s nobody to admire his handiwork?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Declan said. “He managed to get you here to look at it.”

  “That’s Lukys for you.” Cayal smiled and looked at Declan. “You look nothing like him, by the way.”

  “Nice time to decide that.”

  “Which brings up an interesting point, now I come to think of it,” the Immortal Prince continued in a smug tone. “I mean, we don’t know he’s your father for certain, do we? Any one of us could have wandered through Glaeba at the right time. Was your mother pretty?”

  “Must have been,” Declan said. “I am.”

  Tiji smiled. The journey to Jelidia had left plenty of time for the spymaster and the Immortal Prince to get on each other’s nerves. Cayal goaded Declan constantly, but Declan was getting very good at needling Cayal in ret
urn, and the Immortal Prince could do nothing about it. He needed Declan far more than Declan needed him.

  “Please,” Arryl said with a weary sigh. “Let’s not start this again.”

  “I’m not starting anything,” Cayal said. “I was just pointing out that the Rodent is a bastard.”

  “Tides, you’re right,” Declan said in a deadpan voice. “That means you could be my father, Cayal. I mean, my mother was a whore, and I’m guessing you usually have to pay for it . . .”

  Tiji laughed out loud which didn’t help matters much at all.

  Cayal did not seem amused. He turned on Tiji threateningly. “You think that’s funny, do you, reptile?”

  Tiji took a step backward, reaching for Azquil’s hand. But she needn’t have worried. Declan put himself between Cayal and Tiji before she could answer. “Leave her alone.”

  “Why? You like lizards as well as duchesses, Rodent?”

  “Cayal, that’s enough,” Arryl ordered. “Tiji and Azquil are my servants and you’ll leave them alone because I command it.”

  “Who owns the cat?” Taryx asked.

  “The Rodent,” Cayal said, before anybody else could claim Jojo. “He likes to play a bit of Cat and Mouse, our new immortal.”

  Taryx glanced at Declan with a frown. He looked confused and more than a little worried about the implications of having an unknown immortal appear out of nowhere unexpectedly. Declan just rolled his eyes.

  “Each to his own, I suppose.” Taryx turned to the others. “Are we done sightseeing? You’ll have plenty of time to admire the palace when we get there.”

  “Then lead on, Taryx,” Cayal said. “We’re not getting any younger standing here. Or any older, for that matter.”

  Arryl sighed again, shaking her head. “The idea that you might soon be dead grows increasingly attractive, Cayal.”

  “I love you too, Arryl,” Cayal replied with an unexpected grin, but he didn’t wait for her response, simply headed down the slope toward the sled. Taryx and Arryl followed him, leaving Declan on the crest with the Crasii.

  “You know how I can tell he’s immortal?” Tiji said to Declan.

 

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