As she watched the death throes of the carrack, Shann found that she was unable to tear her eyes away. The stern was gradually swallowed by the enveloping waters, causing the prow to rise up in one final gesture of defiance before finally slipping beneath the waves. In a few moments, the sea had closed over the once proud vessel, so that there was nothing to mark its passing.
Shann jerked herself back to reality. They had to do something about the breach in their hull, or the Reach would soon be joining the other vessel at the bottom of the sea. She started back to where Lyall and Keris were still straining, pulling their battered cog through the storms. Then she saw it. A shaft of light burst through the whirling clouds, revealing a sliver of azure blue sky beyond, like a flash of hope. Suddenly an immense wave crashed against the starboard side of the ship. The deck lurched under her and she was flung backwards in the flood of seawater. Boxx was tumbling towards the ship’s rail. Shann lunged at the creature, grabbing it round its midriff just as a second wave burst over the side. She was hurled back again. Then the world exploded as her head hit the rail and she was tossed over the side of the ship, still clutching the Chandara. Shann experienced an instant of freefall before hitting the water with a splash. Her ears were instantly muffled as she felt herself sinking below the waves, and gradually her consciousness slipped away.
~
It began with a merest suggestion of warmth. Slowly, the suggestion became a sensation and the sensation moved outwards from its birthplace. Spreading. Growing. Its tendrils insinuated themselves, enlivening and animating all that they touched. Slowly the warm feeling changed colour and intensified, becoming…pain. Slowly, determinedly, Shann opened her eyes.
There was a round head above her. Its eyes were closed and its mouth quivered oddly. The head had a name. “Boxx.”
The creature opened its eyes and the sensation of warmth faded. “You Are Awake,” it said.
Shann’s head felt muzzy. Her back ached and she realised she was lying on something hard. She tilted her head to her left. Smooth round stones stretched away into the distance. There was the sound of water, lapping gently. A beach. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again.
“Wh-where is this?”
“This Is Beyond.”
“Beyond the Great Barrier?”
“Yes, Beyond.”
“Lyall…Alondo…where are they?”
“Gone.”
“The ship?”
“It Is Gone.”
Shann’s mind kicked in, replaying her most recent memories. They were pulling Annata’s Reach through the storm barrier–the other ship fired–they were hit–she saw the Prophet’s ship go down in the storms–a wave struck them–she clung to Boxx to stop him being swept overboard–then…what?
She struggled to sit up. Her salt-stained clothes had partially dried in the warmth of the suns and they felt stiff.
“How did I get here?”
“The Tree–It Bore Us.”
It indicated a large timber laying half out of the water–from the Reach’s smashed hull. She got to her feet. Her muscles protested loudly, but she ignored them. The sky looked peculiar–a deep cerulean blue, unbroken, save for a few wisps of cloud. Ail-Mazzoth was gone–lost somewhere beyond the distant horizon, where the Great Barrier brooded like an angry frown.
She turned and walked up the stony beach. Ail-Kar was chasing Ail-Gan towards a line of hills to the east. The beach gave way to a shelf of grey rock, strewn with boulders. There were strange patches of white powder on the ground. Shann bent down to touch one. It felt cold–colder than anything she had ever felt before. Curiously, she scooped up a little of the powder and held it in her hand. It seemed to be made up of tiny crystals. She watched in fascination as the crystals turned to…water. She raised her hand to her mouth and allowed the drops to fall on her tongue. They were deliciously cool. She scraped up a handful of the stuff, ignoring the growing numbness in her fingers. Soon, she had slaked her thirst.
Boxx had climbed onto a small boulder and was watching her patiently. As the suns began to set, she felt the air grow colder. Shann began to shiver. The light was fading rapidly, and the sky was gradually turning darker and darker, blue into black. Suddenly, a bright point appeared. But it was not one of the streaks of light that appeared regularly over the skies of her home. It hung motionless overhead. Shann gasped as another appeared near it…and then another. Soon the blackened sky was filled with twinkling points of light, like diamonds on velvet, filling her vision. The words of Alondo’s tale back at the Calandra came back to her. “It was a land of the darkest dark, where the sky is bright, but there are no suns.” Her mind reeled. It was true–Arval had been here.
She turned to Boxx. The Chandara was perched on its rock, its upturned face illuminated by the myriads of tiny lights. “What are they?” she asked.
Boxx’s high pitched voice was charged with reverence. “They Are Called Stars.”
— End of Book One —
********************
Lodestone
Book Two:
The World of Ice and Stars
Science Fiction
by Mark Whiteway
Published by Mark Whiteway
Kindle Edition
Copyright 2011 Mark Whiteway
***
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission, except for brief quotations to books and critical reviews. This story is a work of fiction. Characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Book Two: The World of Ice and Stars
List of chapters
Chapter 01
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
Chapter 05
Chapter 06
Chapter 07
Chapter 08
Chapter 09
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 1
“‘Beyond this world,’ sayeth the sage, ‘lay both wonders to delight the heart and terrors to freeze the soul’.”
The Wisdom of Kal, First Stanza, First Line
What is this place? Shann’s heart beat like that of a tiny bird caught in a snare. The star-filled sky wheeled overhead. Her first instinct was to crouch down and cover her head with her arms to shut out the dizzying spectacle. A distant part of her recalled that according to Alondo’s tale, a number of Arval’s crew had lost their sanity after witnessing this very sight. Come on, Shann, get a grip on yourself. She recalled that fateful night in Corte when she had plucked a staff from the rain-soaked ground and handed it to a man with fair hair and piercing blue eyes. Since then she had escaped from a prison, battled the fearsome Keltar, braved the Fire Pits of Kharthrun, and survived the Great Barrier of Storms. She had seen and endured more than anyone from her hometown of Corte, or indeed the entire district of Chalimar; more perhaps than any other Kelanni alive. She was no longer a weak little girl.
Boxx sat still, perched on its rock, staring up at the myriad of tiny frigid lights, its face serene. She forced herself to follow its gaze. The stars were both terrifying and beautiful. Gradually her fear began to ebb, replaced by fertile sh
oots of curiosity from which questions began to bloom.
“What are they–these ‘stars’?” she asked.
“I Do Not Know, Shann. Worlds Like Ours, Perhaps. Or Unlike Ours.”
That explanation didn’t seem very likely to Shann. “How did you know about them?”
“I Remembered,” the Chandara said in its sing-song voice.
“You mean you have been here before?”
“No.”
“Then how–?”
“I Remembered. From Before. Chandara Remember.”
Shann was beginning to feel her headache returning. One thing was certain; they could not stay here. She could feel the cold penetrating her bones. Her breath condensed in front of her face in clouds of vapour. She had to find Lyall and the others.
“Come on, let’s go,” she called.
The creature hopped down from the rock obediently and fell into step. Shann began to head away from the beach. She was still wearing her jet-black tunic and trousers, her flying cloak flapped in the breeze, and Saccath’s staff was slung behind her–the trappings of a Keltar. Still, what was it Lyall had said back at the farmhouse? “If you understand the power of a tyrant, you can use it against him.”
She walked uphill, making for the highest point she could see. If her companions from the Reach had made it safely to shore, and had witnessed the fall of darkness and the appearance of the stars, then the first thing they would likely do would be to build a fire. She would stand the best chance of spotting it from higher ground; indeed, she would be better able to see any signs of life–assuming there was anyone at all alive in this benighted world.
At first, Shann found progress difficult in the unaccustomed gloom. She stumbled more than once over rocks or uneven surfaces. If she had been on her own, she would naturally have thought of using her flying cloak to make faster progress, but she was not sure whether Boxx would be able to keep up. She was afraid they might lose each other in the dark. Better that she should endure the arduousness of the climb and stub her toe occasionally than risk losing the only friend she had left in the world. Alondo, you had better have a nice fire going by the time I get there.
After a while, her Kelanni eyes became more accustomed to the lower light levels and her progress became a little easier. Boxx trotted along contentedly next to her, as if they were merely out for a midnight stroll. “Where Are We Going?” it asked, conversationally.
“Up there.” She pointed to the escarpment that rose above them, a dark outline against the star-filled sky.
“Why Up There?”
“Because I need to look around. Find out what’s in this place.”
“There Are Chandara Here,” it declared.
“How could you know that?”
“Chandara Remember,” it said. “Memories Are Passed On. We Grow. We Change. We Eat. We Remember.”
Shann’s brow knotted. It felt just as when they had first met up with Keris and Boxx on the road from Gort. The creature had “explained” to them about the “key.” It had offered to “speak the key” to Keris, but when invited to do so, what it came out with amounted to gibberish. It had continued to mention the key at odd intervals, usually when it became agitated about something; but other than Annata’s statement that Boxx was the key and Lyall’s revelation that the name Boxx meant key in the ancient tongue, none of them had been able to discover what that meant. Once again, Shann was forced to admit defeat. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand you.”
“You Will Understand,” it said, “When My Time Comes–As It Must For All Chandara.”
“Your time for what?”
“We Change. We Eat. We Remember,” it repeated.
Shann laughed inwardly. At least Boxx’s company was lightening her mood, even if she was no wiser at the end of their discussion than she had been at the beginning.
Still, if it were somehow right–if there were Chandara here–then that would change everything. From the moment she had awoken in this hostile world, she had been dogged by the nagging fear that it was devoid of all life. If that were true, then their chances of survival were poor indeed. Right now, she would gladly settle for the sight of a group of Chandara, even if it meant that she would never enjoy a sensible conversation again.
They were approaching the crest of the ridge. Shann’s muscles ached from the exertion of the climb, but the heat she radiated was helping to stave off the unaccustomed cold of this place. She turned to look back. The sound of the breakers on the shore had faded to a faint soughing. The sea was an inky black, yet the crests of the waves twinkled, picked out by starlight in a way that struck her as quite beautiful. She raised her head and gazed upward at the burnished sky. Some of the stars were hard points, staring down at her from far above like accusing eyes. Brilliant. Indomitable. Others, though, were fuzzy patches of light, shining with a softer glow. As she watched, she noticed something else–there were faint impressions of colour. Pink and yellow and orange…
She tore her gaze away and scaled the last section to crest the top of the ridge. Her breath congealed in the cold night air as she surveyed this world beyond the Barrier. The landscape was dark, populated with indistinct shapes and anonymous shadows. Then she saw it off to the south. Not a campfire–something far larger. It could only be the lights of a village or a town. So there are people here. What manner of people, she could only guess. But she and Boxx were going to need food and shelter, and the only source of either was there.
A low snarling sound. A pair of yellow eyes appeared in front of her; then another, and a third. Shapes moved in the darkness, jostling each other impatiently, regarding her with a malevolence colder even than the bitter air. The snarl grew into a chorus of deep-throated growls from every side. The staff she had inherited from Saccath was already in her hands, her tendons stretched white against the darkwood. “Boxx, stay close,” she commanded. Glancing beside her, she saw that the Chandara had transformed itself into a ball of chitin. You’ll have to teach me that trick.
Shann whirled around. The creatures were circling her, probing her defences, testing her resolve. She strained her eyes, but their forms were elusive, melting into the anonymity of the starlit night. If she were on her own, she would have flared her cloak and scanned for lodestone so as to effect her escape, but there was no way she was going to leave Boxx at the mercy of these…things. She keened her Kelanni senses, bracing herself.
The attack erupted in a flurry of fur and fang–of horn and claw. Shann sliced, slashed and stabbed at anything that moved; her diamond blade flashing in the starlight as if the heavens were lending her their power. She brought her staff down on the head of one of the beasts and heard the crunch of bone; then pirouetted, cleaving phantoms and sundering shadows. Bass growling became interspersed with higher pitched yelping. The creatures backed off. Regrouping. Thinking.
As she stood, breathing hard, braced for the next onslaught, Shann’s mind went back to the battle with the sand scarags of the Great Southern Desert. The sand scarags were like automata. They had one tactic–swarm and overwhelm–which they pursued with a mindless compulsion. These creatures were different. There was a collective intelligence here, the cold unyielding logic of the implacable hunter.
Shann felt a sudden sharp pressure in the small of her back. Before she could react, she was propelled forward and sent sprawling face first to the ground. She twisted onto her back. A huge shape loomed over her, blotting out the stars. Xanthic eyes bore into her and hot, fetid breath washed over her face.
Shann’s heart froze. Without thinking, she tightened her grip on her staff weapon and thrust upward with every ounce of her strength. The silhouette above her stiffened. Gradually, the amber lights faded and went out, and a great weight pinned her to the ground.
Bestial sounds converged and deliquesced into the night. Shann felt too spent to move. At length, she gathered the last few crumbs of her strength and pulled herself out from under the mass of tangled fur. Her hand and forearm were covered in white
blood, and blood stained the front of her tunic. She found a patch of the white powder and cleaned her exposed skin as best she could, enduring the numbing effects of the cold. Her clothes, she could do nothing about, for now. Boxx had unfurled itself and was regarding her with an expression of mild curiosity.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said, answering its unspoken question. “I don’t need your help this time.” The Chandara settled back down with its head resting on the ground, waiting patiently for her to finish.
Shann went to the felled beast and knelt beside it. It was a four-legged animal, as long as she was tall, with a matted grey coat and a head that seemed too large for its body. The crown of its skull was bare, topped off by three wicked-looking horns. Its wide, slightly parted mouth was filled with rows of sharp teeth. She had never seen anything like it before.
Shann let out a long breath and hunched her shoulders. She had been in this strange world for less than a day, and she had already spilled blood. It was not a good beginning. Something cold caressed her cheek. She looked up, startled. White flakes drifted lazily down from the sky. They settled on her shoulders, in her hair and eyelashes, and on the fur of the lifeless beast. She held out her hand tentatively. The flakes landed on her palm and melted into beads of water, just like the powder which lay on the ground. Like a fine crystalline rain. She shivered involuntarily. It was getting colder. They had to get moving.
Without further thought, Shann rose, wrapped her flying cloak tightly about her small frame and began heading along the line of low hills as it snaked south, toward the lights and whatever welcome or warding awaited her there.
~
As she descended the rough escarpment, the white flakes grew thicker and more numerous. They surrounded her in a slow motion aerial ballet, obscuring her vision. Even when she closed her eyes, she could still see them in her mind’s eye and feel them on her face.
The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) Page 35