The Arclight Saga 2-Book Set

by C. M. Hayden

  Kyra’s voice went stern. “I’ve considered your opinion and rejected it. I expect you to obey me.” Her voice softened, and she sighed. “Taro’s a liar, and I’m going to prove it. I’m going to bring him to justice.”

  Briego gave her a hard look. “It’s not justice you’re after.”

  Kyra had no response; she simply slipped into the room and shut the door behind her without another word. The room was for receiving guests, usually foreign dignitaries. It was wide and oval-shaped with a variety of sturdy couches and lounge chairs. Fine linen drapes covered the sunlight that would normally be flooding in.

  But there were no dignitaries, just the warder Talthis whom she had summoned. He looked wholly uncomfortable in the lavished setting and hadn’t touched any of the food on the kneel-high table in front of him. He sat with his elbows on his knees, staring down at his metal shoes and looking generally uncomfortable. He didn’t seem to notice Kyra enter; and when she cleared her throat, he hurried to his feet.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, going from full-attention to a low and respectful bow.

  “Not quite yet,” Kyra said. “‘Magister’ is acceptable.”

  “Magister,” Talthis echoed, though he didn’t rise from his bow until Kyra ushered for him to stand. “I came as soon as I received your summons. How may I be of service?”

  Something about the way he said it, the glimmer in his eyes, all but confirmed it for Kyra. This was, without a doubt, Taro’s father. She kicked herself for not noticing it sooner.

  Kyra sat and motioned for him to do the same. She poured some tea and offered him a scone with cream.

  “You seem to be doing well. No lasting effects of the poison?” Kyra asked.

  Talthis’ back straightened, and he took a polite sip. “No, ma’am. I’m fully recovered.”

  Despite the voice and familial resemblance, Talthis was completely unlike his son. He was a military man, born and bred, and he moved with calm efficiency. He spoke tersely; but always paused for a brief moment before speaking, as if he was collecting his thoughts into a neat row. He had a noticeably small-town accent which he seemed to frequently fight against when addressing his superiors.

  “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” Kyra set her cup down and retrieved the leather bag she’d placed on the floor. “I know there’s a lot of misinformation hovering about the place. Are you aware of what’s happened?”

  “Do you mean in reference to the dragons or to Vexis?”

  “Both.”

  Talthis nodded. “I know the dragon queen wants her and holds us responsible for her return. The Helian involvement is fairly common knowledge, apparently Vexis is one of the Shahl’s daughters. Based on that, it seems likely that the Shahl orchestrated her escape somehow.”

  “A reasonable conclusion,” Kyra said. “My father’s gone to speak with the Shahl personally.”

  Talthis’ eyes narrowed. “He’s gone to Helia?”

  Kyra nodded.

  “I beg your pardon, but isn’t that dangerous?” Talthis said.

  “He’s taken four commissioned magisters and a group of warders with him,” Kyra said.

  “Even so, wouldn’t it be better to send an envoy?”

  “Trust me, you’re not the first person to suggest that, but my father’s rather single-minded.” Kyra folded her hands in her lap. “Which brings me to why I brought you here. My father left for Helia yesterday morning via airship. Due to the Helians superstitions about magic, they’ll be landing the ship near Cardaeros and traveling by caravan to the capital with his dozen escorts.”

  “Why not take more?” Talthis said.

  “He was afraid too many men would be provocative.”

  “The Shahl sent in infiltrators to steal a prisoner of war. If anyone’s being provocative, it’s them. A show of arms might make them think twice—” Talthis seemed to notice he was rambling and stopped. “Apologies, my lady, it’s not my place to question His Majesty.”

  “No need to apologize. I’m glad we’re on the same page, because regardless of my father’s wishes, I won’t allow him to walk headfirst into a trap. I’m assembling a team of warders and magisters to go to Helia with me. I’d like for you to come.”

  “Me?” Talthis said. “May I ask why?”

  “To prove your loyalty,” Kyra said, her voice turning suddenly sharp.

  “My loyalty?” Talthis said. His eyes went dark.

  “You heard me.”

  “I’ve served the kingdom since I was old enough to enlist. My loyalty is beyond reproach.”

  Kyra cupped her hands together. “But your son’s is not.”

  Talthis was momentarily taken aback by the mention of Taro, but quickly recovered. “You’re very mistaken.”

  “Do you deny being Taro’s father?” Kyra asked.

  “Of course not.” Talthis’ tone grew less respectful. “My son may have his faults, but he’s no traitor.”

  Kyra’s voice grew more aggressive. “Then why do reports have him headed to Helia?”

  “I didn’t know traveling to Helia was against the law,” Talthis countered. “But if you know that, then you must also know that he’s been searching for his sister. It stands to reason that he believes she’s in Helia.”

  “I have another theory,” Kyra said, giving him an annoyed look. “Your son is aiding Vexis.”

  Talthis shook his head. “Taro would never do that.”

  “How can you be sure? He’s done it before.”

  “He was the one who had her arrested in the first place. He killed Dr. Halric. And if you had any real evidence, you wouldn’t be telling me this in private.” Talthis grimaced. “Listen, nobody is more aware of my son’s faults than me. But if you know him, then you know he lives and breathes for his sister. There’s nothing in the world more important to him than Nima. If he’s in Helia, he’s there because of her. You can take that to the bank.”

  “If that’s true, neither you nor him have anything to worry about,” Kyra said with a shrug.

  Talthis gave Kyra a despicable look, somewhere between disgust and disbelief. “I won’t help you spread lies about my son. Princess or not, noble or not. If the Sun King were here, he wouldn’t allow this.”

  “But the Sun King isn’t here,” Kyra snapped. “I am. Gather your things tonight, we leave at dawn.”

  “I am under the administration of Lord Commander Linos and charged to defend the Carcerium. As I’ve received no transfer orders, I must decline your generous request.”

  “You’ll find transfer orders, signed and sealed, waiting for you at your lovely home when you return.” She leaned forward. “And Mr. Talthis, let’s make one thing clear: this isn’t a request.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Of Herbs and Arkfire

  THE DESERT PRESENTED A paradox. During the day it was too hot to travel by foot, and during the night—allegedly—all manner of foul creatures were present. However, as Taro and the others did their best to keep up with Rennly and his bulldog, the night seemed remarkably calm and still, even devoid of life. The only movements were the small sweeps of wind against the dry, brown bits of grass that sprung up in a few areas between sand and rocks.

  The full moons and curtain of stars turned the ground a shimmering silver, and the sheer beauty took Taro’s breath away. Even Vexis was remarkably silent as they treaded the starry-sands. Rennly’s dog took the front of the pack, sniffing every inch of ground and turning over rocks with his wrinkled face. Despite his large size and stubby legs, he was remarkably quick on his feet.

  Once in a while the dog would stop at a barbed cactus, and let out a gruff sound that Rennly seemed to understand. Rennly would then painstakingly cut all the barbs from the plant, chop the nibs off its arms, and place the moist pieces into a pouch. This he did with the bustling efficiency of a lifetime tracker. Taro could only speculate as to the plant’s use, but each pouch stitched sloppily into the leather bag had a label scratched into it. They were hard to read, and
flashed for only a moment, but he made out the words ‘riftfoil’, ‘jinosa’, and ‘elerethain’.

  From his stint in the Conservatorium with Antherion and his atramancy classes, he recognized them as medicinal herbs. Cacti were generally poisonous and many could have deleterious effects, but the bulldog seemed to know the difference from smell alone.

  Riftfioil was a painkiller and fever reducer. Jinosa could be crushed and ground into a topical burn ointment. Elerethain he’d heard of, but only in passing, and could only guess as to its use.

  While Rennly was stripping the brown bits off a root, Sikes had moved to within inches of the guide and stared at his quick-moving hands with fascination. “What’s that for?”

  Rennly chewed, spat, and tidily wrapped up the roots with a strip of twine, tucking them neatly into his leather bag. “Ire Viatos. I call it moonflower. Can’t be picked during the day.” They continued through the desert. “Lots of herbs grow out here. Fetch decent prices in town. Not many sods brave enough to venture out this way, so it’s to my benefit.”

  “How much can you get for it?” Sikes asked.

  “Four copper pennies a stem for the right buyer. The real money’s in the eel’s blood. Let’s hope we don’t run into any of those, though.”

  “Why’s that?” Sikes asked.

  “Didn’t bring the proper equipment. Wasn’t expectin’ to go stomping around at night. We see one of ’em, we haul ass outta here. Understand?” He rubbed his fingers together. “They call ’em fire eels for a reason, but it ain’t fire and it ain’t blood. They got a slick on their skin that helps ’em tunnel through the soil. If it touches yehr skin, yehr white bones’ll be showin’ right quick. If they get rowdy, they can spit it in yehr eyes, too.”

  They walked for hours, stopping only for minutes at a time to rest. There was no sign of shelter for miles in any direction, and the thought of the sun peeking over the horizon fueled their speed.

  Sikes seemed to have a strange fascination with Rennly and took to asking him various questions as they walked. Taro was happy for the distraction and to see Sikes not sulking about.

  “Do you live out here in the wild?” Sikes asked earnestly.

  Rennly gave him a crooked look. “O’course not. I live in Rohesh.” He pointed in a vague direction. “Top floor of an apothecary. I bring him back rare herbs, he gives me a steal on rent. But I’ll tell yeh, I spend more time out in these parts than I do at home.”

  “Just gathering?” Sikes asked.

  “Enjoying the silence,” Rennly said. “The turnin’ of the earth beneath yehr feet. There ain’t nothin’ like it. In the full dark, when there’s nothin’ but yeh, the soil, and the sky, yeh can feel the heartbeat of the whole world.”

  As Taro walked and listened, his prosthetic foot came down on what seemed like hard ground, but it punched through as easily as stomping on a month-old pumpkin. His prosthetic was momentarily caught, and he felt a strange warmness emanating from the hole as if a plume of steam rose out of it. To him, it was a bit of an annoyance. To Rennly, it looked as though he’d have a heart attack. He rushed toward Taro and yanked his foot out of the ground.

  Rennly examined the hole, careful not to touch it. The bottom of Taro’s wooden foot was smoking and charred black, and the wood had a thick oily residue on it.

  “Stay where yeh are!” Rennly shouted. Everyone froze immediately, and Rennly pressed his ear to the ground. His breath slowed and he ran his fingers along the dry earth. Taro listened too, but he didn’t hear anything.

  “What is it?” Sikes said after a full five minutes of complete silence.

  Rennly slowly rose to his feet. “How did I miss this?” He cupped his hand over his eyes and looked out in front of them.

  Taro did the same and saw what he was talking about. The ground before them was scarred with long black streaks, as if someone had taken a blowtorch to it. The earth rumbled in spots, and some serpent-like creature’s back stuck up from the ground. It was as long as Taro was tall, with scales as black as oil. It was slimy, like a slug, and burned a trail into the ground as it moved. Small bits of fire sprang up along its path.

  “Some kind of a chemical reaction?” Taro said to Sikes, calling on his Magisterium courses. “The acids in their skin combined with the phosphorous in the soil?”

  “Don’t look at me,” Sikes said dumbly.

  “How do we get passed them?” Vexis asked Rennly.

  Rennly grimaced and gave a thoughtful pause. “Tread lightly and pray.”

  Taro took the lead this time. With his wooden foot, he could check the ground in front of them and, hopefully, prevent them from sliding their foot into a pool of acid. They followed every footstep he made; all the while, the ground grew more unstable. Taro could hear subtle shifting all around him; this was further compounded by the fact that it was quite dark, and his whole body ached from their long journey.

  “I don’t understand why there are so many,” Rennly said. “They live deep in the earth; it’s rare for them to surface. Never in such numbers. Somethin’ must’ve disturbed them.”

  Suddenly there was crunch, and Vexis’ foot went through the thin layer of hard ground. She shouted and recoiled backward, kicking off her shoe in a frantic panic. As she did, the bottom dissolved in a fizzle of smoke, and bits of flesh on her foot were scorched off. She huffed hard, breathing through her teeth, and squeezed her heel as if trying to distract herself from the pain.

  “God damn it,” she said, biting her lip and rocking back and forth.

  Rennly propped her foot up onto a rock and removed a clay mortar and pestle from his pack. He added herbs and water together in equal amounts and ground them into a thin paste, which he lathered onto her burns. This seemed to soothe her, and she thanked him. Though the pain was gone, Vexis could not stand on her foot right away and had to cling to Rennly’s arm to stand.

  “This isn’t going to work,” Vexis said to Taro.

  “Suggestions?”

  Vexis pointed to her cuffs. “Take these off and I’ll d—”

  “Besides that.”

  “Damn it, Taro,” Vexis snapped. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

  Taro looked at her with utter contempt.

  Vexis’ temper flared briefly, but settled into a smolder. “Fine, you first. Good luck losing your other foot, idiot.” She pointed him forward.

  Taro did take the lead, once again tapping the ground with his prosthetic and trying to feel for where the underground tunnels were. Every few yards the ground would give way, and they would maneuver passed the expose portions. Steam hissed from the broken earth and Taro hesitated, bringing his foot down just long enough to avoid stepping it directly into the acid.

  Vexis was right. This wasn’t going to work.

  “Who could’ve seen that coming?” Vexis chided, crossing her arms across her chest. Somehow, her foot already seemed to be doing much better. She was even putting weight on it once again. Taro chalked the speedy recovery up to the herbs Rennly had used, but even so, it didn’t seem possible. Whatever the case, Taro didn’t have time to mull it over.

  He retrieved the inscriber from his pack. The cartridge was empty, and as he unclicked the glass tube and replaced it with another, he spoke quickly to Sikes.

  “I don’t suppose you remember the runes for glass and phosphorous?” he asked.

  Sikes shook his head. “Didn’t get that far in the Artificium.”

  Taro drew out a series of runes in the sand. The tip of the inscriber burned so hot that it left a long streak of black despite the ground being shifty and uneven. He tossed the inscriber to Sikes and ushered for him to copy the design.

  “This should work,” Taro said uneasily.

  Vexis seemed to understand what he was trying to do, but looked as though she found the entire exercise pointless. “This would be so much easier if you’d just—”

  “I’m trying to focus here,” Taro snapped. He glanced sideways and saw that Sikes had finished
his runes. “Be careful. I don’t want you to go into aftershock. This is a straight transmutation, two inches down, twenty yards ahead. If it gets to be too much to handle, just hold off.”

  “I’ll be all right,” Sikes said.

  Together, the boys pressed their hands onto the runes. The ley lines glowed as they applied their templar and the sands in front of them flattened. The ground shimmered and sparked, and every grain of sand melted into hard obsidian glass. The black glass expanded directly out in front of them, moving slower and slower the further it got from the runes. Finally, when Taro could take it no more he let go and the expansion stopped. He looked to Sikes who was on his back sweating, his chest heaving like he was in the last leg of a ten-mile run.

  Had Taro tried such a transmutation by himself, he no doubt would’ve ended up exactly as he had with the bandits: unconscious or worse. As it was, although he felt like he’d be struck by a freight wagon, he was very much lucid and very much alive.

  Panting, he smiled at Sikes, who returned his smile with a weak thumbs up.

  Through all this Rennly and his dog had been extremely quiet, watching with an air of tempered curiosity. Taro, Sikes, and Vexis proceeded to stroll across the glass bridge; and when Taro looked back, he saw his dumfounded guide standing like a statue amidst the crumbling ground. Taro ushered him to follow, and the hulking man eventually complied.

  When they were far enough to be in no immediate danger, Taro sat with his back against a rock and pulled the prosthetic off his leg to inspect the damage of the fire eel’s acid. He took a vial from his pack and collected some of the goo into it.

  While Taro, Sikes, and Vexis were content to rest for a moment, Rennly looked unsettled. It was hard to tell how he was feeling since his beard covered half his face, and dirt covered the other, but he showed definite reproach. It wasn’t anger exactly; in fact, it wasn’t until Taro saw him take a hulking step away from them that he realized what it was: fear. Rennly was afraid of them.

  “You did not say you were farseers,” Rennly said. His cannon-like arms were trembling, and he clenched his bulldog’s chain tight. The dog, for his part, didn’t seem particularly worried. It drooled onto the sand, scratched its wrinkled ear, and looked up at Sikes expectantly.