by Ben Peek
‘You’re not listening,’ the other man said.
‘You haven’t said anything worthwhile yet.’
‘You have never listened to me, Qian.’
He could not see Jae’le, Eidan, or even Aelyn. ‘Where are the others?’ he asked.
‘You have never had time for a man like me. Your family is just the same. I could not speak to the dead or change the very nature of life. I could not grab the sky or the earth in my hands.’
The rain began to fall harder. On the remains of Nale, on the wreckage that lay in the black water, Zaifyr saw the Keepers emerge. They were dull impressions, but they grew stronger as they pulled themselves from the water. The strongest sensations he had were of damp forests and a person who did not register as one, but as many.
Zaifyr finally turned to the Pauper. ‘You forgot Tinh Tu,’ he said.
‘No, I did not forget her.’ Now that Kaqua had his attention, he rose from his seated position. ‘She would have understood what was happening here long before now. She would have felt my pushes. She would have seen my influence.’
‘The Enclave is not one person,’ he said, feeling as if a final piece had slotted into place for him. He saw now how Kaqua had hidden behind that line, how he had used it to shield himself as he manoeuvred the Keepers to where he wanted. Including, perhaps, his sister. ‘That makes it easier, doesn’t it?’
‘It does, yes. It makes it easier to nudge, to suggest and to prompt. You must understand: I do not tell people to do anything, I do not make them act against their nature. That is what Tinh Tu does. Her voice is her power. That is why she stitches her lips together. That is why she does not speak. But I am not like that. I must see the problem first. I must be able to work with it. Then it is true: the more people you have, the more chance you have to see a problem. The more voices you have to speak it, the more debate you have. It is like a web you spin. After a while, everyone sees how the problem is theirs. How it is our shared responsibility. Of course, not everyone will be like that. Take you, for example, Qian. You understand the pain the dead experience, but you do not see it for the living. You do not see the struggle mortals have in this world. You do not see that this is as important as their death, as well.’
‘I see a lot of people suffering right now. You don’t seem too concerned that there are people drowning. That your navy appears to have been destroyed.’
‘It breaks my heart.’ Behind Kaqua, more Keepers began to appear. They came to the edge of Nale, to where the buildings fell into the ocean, where the broken stone of the city lay upon other pieces of stone. ‘We worked so hard to not bring it to this point. We had tried to convince Se’Saera that the embarrassment she endured in the trial was not widespread across Yeflam. But she would hear nothing of it. She demanded that the words die here.’
‘And you agreed?’
‘Look at this world, Qian. Look at these broken suns and poisoned oceans. Madness, war, plague – this is the end of times. One day soon the suns will extinguish and we will die in the darkness. If a nation must be sacrificed for that to be stopped, then that is a fair trade.’ He sighed. ‘I wish it were not true, but it is.’
Delicately, Zaifyr began to reach out with his power. He could feel the dead, but their cold, their whispered desires, were no worse than the words of the man before him. ‘I find it hard to believe that my sister agreed with you,’ he said.
‘I have had over a thousand years to weave my web around Aelyn.’ The Pauper smiled. ‘But to be honest, it was you who finally pushed her into supporting Se’Saera. It was you who convinced her that the responsibility of the world was one that we could not shoulder. After Asila, she took that upon herself. She saw how fragile this world was. She and Eidan both saw that. But it was only once you were here, once you ignored all her power, that she realized she could not keep the burden she had taken upon herself.’
The haunts appeared as, from the water behind him, Zaifyr felt his sister rise from Leviathan’s Blood. The two haunts he had animated, a young man and woman who had fallen and drowned in the splitting of Nale, streamed into the hard, white-lit ghosts to kill Kaqua . . . but before they could, he felt himself lifted by a swirl of wind, felt hands grab him, and he was dragged into the surging storm that he knew, even before he saw his sister, came from deep within Aelyn.
4.
Ayae made her way with difficulty through the crowded streets of Ghaam. Each step away from Sin’s Hand took her further beyond the order that the Yeflam Guard had established. Each step took her closer to a growing wind, to a cold rain, and to where the sky had begun to swirl above Nale in an ugly, bruised coloration. Yet, she made progress towards it, pushing her way through streets that were filling with hastily loaded wagons, occasionally pushed by men and women, but mostly pulled by oxen and horses. Other men and women ran past her, carrying children and possessions on their backs or in their hands. She had thought that she would see carriages ferrying people, but she had already passed one of the long ones, overturned, its horses stolen. She did not linger to learn what had happened, but continued to push further into the city. Around her, she heard snatches of conversation. ‘The Leerans?’ said one man; another spoke in a near hysterical voice, ‘The pillar in Nale is broken, we’re all—’ ‘We’re fine, we’re fine,’ a woman cooed to her children, running away from him. ‘—it is the Keepers, they have betrayed—’ said an elderly man, his cane thrust out before him. ‘For the priests—’ ‘—the Keepers would not—’ one couple argued darkly. ‘There was a fire—’ ‘—at the start, I saw—’ ‘Ran down an alley—’ A man, a woman, and a woman again, caught Ayae’s attention, and she slowed to a walk to hear their words. ‘She was alive. I could hear her cry, I could.’
Despite herself, Ayae stopped. ‘Where exactly is she?’
The woman she had spoken to was perhaps a year or two older than her, but narrow and tall, her dark hair slick with rain. ‘Two blocks south,’ she said, finally. ‘Near the road that leads to the docks. You will see two houses with red doors and a third with orange. The alley there. But I do not think you should bother. She is likely dead already.’
Ayae thanked her and began to run along the stone road. Ahead, the bruised sky darkened further, and she heard the violent rushing of the wind rise above the crash of the ocean. To her horror, she thought that the wind had begun to take on a shape, a definite human shape. It loomed above Nale, undefined in its face and in its body, but the shape was unmissable. She was also sure that there was a buzzing sound, as if hundreds of voices were speaking softly, but she could not make out a single word. Still, it was enough that Ayae told herself that she ought to follow part of the woman’s advice, that she should not bother looking for the woman who had been on fire and continue onwards to Zaifyr. But when the lane that led to the docks appeared, she took it, and soon found the houses that the woman had mentioned.
In the middle of the alley she found Eira.
The Cold Witch lay against a fence, her body soaked by the rain and curled against the wooden pales. At first glance, Ayae thought she was dead, but she could feel the sensation of cold coming from the body.
With her foot, she nudged the Keeper onto her back, and blanched. Eira’s skin was a mess, a heavy blackened melt that the wet had gone some way to solidifying. Her hair had been burnt away, and she had torn her armour off as she ran, leaving little to cover the rest of her body. There was hardly anything that Ayae could identify as human, but the hatred that broke apart the loose flesh of Eira’s face when she bared her teeth at the sight of Ayae left her in no doubt that the Keeper was still very much alive.
‘You’ll heal from this,’ she said quietly.
Eira made a guttural noise in reply, unable to speak.
‘You probably think I’m going to leave you because of that,’ she continued. ‘You think I’m going to leave you be because I feel pity.’ Her hand fell to the hilt of her sword. ‘But Aelyn was right about one thing: you cannot put aside the burden of your act
ions.’
The Keeper’s burnt fingers began to push at the ground, began to try desperately to put distance between her and Ayae.
Ayae’s foot settled on Eira’s leg and she felt the flesh give way as she pushed down. A small whimper escaped the woman. Ayae could see in her eyes a terrible panic and fear that replaced the hatred. Her foot did not rise, however. Once, she might have responded, but it would have been because she did not know that Eira would follow her for years, that she would do so to enact a revenge that would be targeted at the people in her life as well as her. She knew now that Eira would pursue her. Bnid Gaerl had taught her the folly of believing otherwise.
Yet, thrusting her sword into the badly burnt woman was hard, harder than she had thought, and before the end, she questioned herself.
‘Well done,’ a deep, male voice said once she had finished. ‘Very well done.’
She found Anguish on the shadowed ends of the fence that Eira had lain against, its ink-black skin a darker shadow.
‘Jae’le and Eidan need your help,’ the creature said.
‘You smell of Leviathan’s Blood,’ Ayae said as she wiped her sword clean along her pant leg. ‘I thought you were hiding on top of the Enclave.’
‘The ocean.’ He moved out of the shadows and along the edge of the fence like a cat. ‘Beneath the waves her voice was dull to me. I could ignore her there. I could hide from her as she searched Yeflam for me. But she was strong and each day I was forced to sink deep into the ocean to hide from her. It was on the last days that I found the first pair of her creatures, waiting beneath the docks of Yeflam to rise out of the water. When they rose, I rose with them.’
Her sword slipped into its sheath. ‘That sounds a lot as if you answered her call.’
‘She is gone.’ He hissed the last word with joy. ‘Gone to the poor soul who spoke her name. By another god, he might have been rewarded, but from her – from her there will be only suffering.’
‘And now here you are to beg for help?’
‘They will die without you.’
‘You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.’ Ayae began to walk out of the alley. After a moment, she heard Anguish scramble after her.
‘Please, please.’ He landed deftly on her shoulder, but before he could settle, she caught him. Beneath her fingers, she could feel no bone, no muscle, just a faint chill. ‘Don’t ignore me, please,’ he said, a thin wheedle entering his voice. ‘Eidan and Jae’le are in need of your help. I know you go to help Qian, but you cannot get between him and Aelyn. That battle is not for the likes of you and me. But Eidan – Eidan will die, if you do not help. That is a fact. He was set upon by her creatures and hurt, but his true danger comes from Leviathan’s Blood. He has fallen into it and his wounds have been tainted by her poison. Jae’le does not have the power to save him from that and from the creatures.’
‘You disappear,’ she said. ‘You reappear. Your eyes are closed, but I hear Se’Saera’s voice in all of your words.’
The creature squirmed in her grip, but could not break free. ‘Do you not think it would be an easy thing for me to speak her words?’ he asked angrily. ‘I could be a pet, a prized creation by her side, if I could but find my faith in her yet again. She created me. She owns me. And yet here I am, begging you to save a man whom she has tried to kill tonight. You might think of that for a moment.’
The rain began to fall harder. Ayae contemplated ignoring Anguish, considered throwing him down the end of the alley and walking away. She did not trust him, but his words had rung true enough to her, and that stilled her hand. If Jae’le and Eidan were in danger, Zaifyr would want her to go to them first, would want her to do everything she could for them, before she entered Aelyn’s storm – though, as the density of that tempest grew, as the giant above Nale became more and more defined, Ayae was increasingly concerned that she would be unable to push through it.
‘They are not far from here,’ Anguish pressed. ‘Please.’
‘Okay,’ she said, finally. ‘But if this is a lie, look behind you at Eira before we leave.’
5.
Standing before the burning siege tower, the grey-haired woman introduced herself as Qiyala, but offered no rank.
Heast had not planned to set fire to the tower, but before he began to descend through its guts, before the Maosans rode into the ravine, he had fallen to his knees as the name of the child god forced itself upon him. Se’Saera. He repeated it aloud, and again as he rose, regathering the crossbow as he did. Se’Saera. The intrusion angered him. The very nature of it, the forcefulness of it – it was an invasion of his self. But he did not kick the lamps over inside the siege tower because of his anger. No, he kicked them over because neither he nor Taaira had killed all the Leeran soldiers who had lain in wait in the ravine. At least two had fled, but with the name of their god revealed, he believed that those two would return quickly with more soldiers. They would find the nearest outpost and then they would come back. Heast and the others needed to be gone before then. At the door of the siege tower, he lit the fire that now burned strongly, and said exactly that to the nominated leader of the Maosans. He – a young, olive-skinned man by the name of Isaap – had cast his eyes to Qiyala, revealing what Heast had suspected since he had first seen them approach in the dark.
‘There are not many of us left,’ the woman said to him now, as they rode through the night away from the ravine. ‘Desertions, death – Iata has squandered most of his veterans.’
‘Talon?’ he asked.
‘Second rank,’ she admitted.
The equivalent to a sergeant, then. ‘Why have you stayed?’
‘Family.’ Qiyala pointed along the line of horses which rode in single file without light. ‘I have a grandson. He’s not too smart, but at least he didn’t carry a torch.’
‘That wasn’t your idea?’
She grimaced. ‘Isaap is First Talon.’
‘I see war has changed little in Faaisha,’ Heast said drily. ‘You can lead if you have the right blood, the right family and the right money.’
‘It is no different anywhere in the world.’
‘You have not seen the world, then.’
Qiyala offered him a lopsided smile that revealed a missing tooth. ‘Iata will be happy to see you, won’t he?’
Heast did not reply and she did not press him. She certainly knew who he was now, for when he had turned to her before the burning siege tower, she had saluted him and addressed him as the Captain of the Spine. If that was all she knew of him, then she would know, at the very least, what he had said to Kotan Iata a decade earlier, when he had ridden up to Mireea.
‘He still calls himself Warden,’ Qiyala said. ‘If you are curious.’
‘I am not.’ Gently, Heast pulled on the reins of his mount. It fell behind the woman’s and into the darkness. ‘But thank you.’
As she continued onwards, two young men passed him, both giving him nervous glances, and then, after a longer pause, the tribesman Kye Taaira appeared. The Maosans had not been happy to see him in the ravine, and they had kept their distance from him like children who feared a monster under their bed. There was more truth in that than he cared for, Heast knew, for the Hollow of the Pacifist Tribes of the Plateau had become a fabled nightmare in the Kingdoms of Faaisha. For his part, the tribesman bore the looks cast his way with quiet patience, and he had slung his sword over his back wordlessly before he mounted and fell into a slow walk at the end of their line.
‘You and I must talk,’ Heast said to him quietly. ‘If you want to continue with me to Maosa, that is.’
‘I will not apologize for what I did, Captain,’ Taaira replied without pause. ‘My ancestors are my responsibility.’
‘Is it your responsibility to be reckless and stupid?’
‘I was not—’
‘You were.’ Heast’s voice allowed for no disagreement. ‘You could have got both of us killed and it is unacceptable for you to act like that. You cannot disobey orders
. You cannot disobey me. I am aware that you have your responsibilities, but I have mine too, and I cannot be true to them if you keep battlefield secrets from me. It will serve neither of us if you continue to do that. You cannot win a war by doing that. You do not keep your fellow soldiers alive by doing that. You risk not just yourself, but those around you, and I will not allow you to bring such foolishness into this endeavour if you cannot understand this.’
‘I know all my ancestors,’ he replied evenly. ‘I know the horrors that each of them is responsible for. I know their flaws and their weaknesses. The risk is mine alone.’
Heast’s hand reached out for the reins of Taaira’s horse and pulled it to a stop. ‘Understand me,’ he said, ‘very clearly.’
Taaira began to speak.
‘No, you will listen to me, for I will say this only once. In the war that is before us, I will ensure that you retrieve your ancestors, but you must obey me on the field for that to happen. If you cannot do that, then you are of no use to me, and I will leave you dead on the ground here for scavengers in the morning. I will send your sword back to the Plateau with a note of apology to the shamans who gave it to you. I will tell them what I have told you: that your reckless behaviour put in danger not just me, but the soldiers who fought by my side and the people who relied upon me. Then I will tell them that I will deliver the remains of their ancestors in the weeks and months and that they need not bother to send another poorly disciplined warrior to be in my presence. Do I make myself very clear, tribesman?’
The Hollow’s brown eyes held Heast’s and the Captain of the Ghosts did not flinch. Finally, Kye Taaira nodded, and said, ‘My apologies. It will not happen again.’
6.
Anguish directed her to the Ghaam docks. It was not a true dock, not like the long, multi-lane stone constructions that spread like fingers across the black water at the edges of Yeflam. Instead, it was a single stone dock that enabled small skiffs to draw against it, with a launch ramp alongside. It was one of the ways that merchants shifted their produce from city to city without using the streets.