The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series)

by Mark Whiteway

  “Help,” she said. “I need help.”

  ~

  Keris sat on a padded stool in the far corner of a spacious sitting room, keeping company with a plant that was growing out of the floor. Her cloak was wrapped around her, although she no longer felt cold. There were five adults and two children in what seemed to be an extended household. All of them gave her a wide berth. The little girl’s eyes looked as if they were ready to fill with tears whenever the raven-haired woman looked in her direction, so Keris had taken to staring at the wooden floor.

  Someone was approaching. She looked up to see Alondo. He drew up a stool and sat beside her. He was smiling beneath his festive red hat, yet somehow, he looked less out of place than she did.

  “How’s Lyall?” she asked.

  “A little better, I think,” Alondo said. “He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, but his colour is improved and he seems to be breathing easier. I didn’t want to risk trying to wake him. Let the body rest, give it a chance to heal.”

  Keris felt as if her mouth were filled with ashes. “I didn’t know you had any healing experience.”

  “I don’t.” He smiled again. “It’s just something Mother used to say.” Keris stared off into space. “These Kelanni are very much like us,” he continued. “I’ve been studying their language.”

  “Studying? How?”

  “Talking and listening, mostly. Signing helps a lot. There are actually a great number of commonalities–too many for coincidence. I think the conclusion has to be that at one time, Kelanni on both sides of the Barrier spoke the same dialect.”

  Keris grimaced. “How does that help us?”

  “Well, if we once spoke the same language, then we must also share a common ancestry. That should make them more inclined to help us.”

  Keris stared at the walls. They were of smooth stone–too perfect, decorated with a repeating geometric design, the significance of which she could not guess. “You’re forgetting the fact that we were attacked.”

  “Yes, but I’m fairly convinced that these people weren’t responsible. When I asked them about it, they seemed genuinely confused. I still don’t think they believe me. They told me that their flying craft–they call them ‘avionics’, by the way–have never been fitted with weapons of any kind, even during some earlier war that they referred to. It’s a puzzle.”

  “Maybe their war is starting up again,” she offered.

  “Maybe. But if that were so, you’d think the pilot would target a populated area, rather than a few people wandering in open countryside. And when I tried to explain the lightning weapon they used, these people didn’t seem to comprehend me. It could have been the language, but I don’t think so. I don’t think they had ever seen anything like that before.”

  Keris looked down at the floor again. “I seem to have misjudged things badly. I think you should serve as our ambassador here. I should just keep out of everyone’s way.”

  “Well, I think everyone’s recovered from the shock of your entrance. And I offered to help them repair the window.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said.

  “Unfortunately, you did a rather effective job on their flying machine. This is a pretty isolated area, and it’s their only means of contact with civilisation. They said they’ll need to bring an engineer here to fix it.”

  “Yes, well, I’m sorry about that too.” She was sorry about a lot of things. She had been by far the most vociferous critic of Lyall’s style of leadership. He was too relaxed, too casual. He was overly trusting of others and had an annoying tendency to want to martyr himself. Yet whenever she had been forced to take over, things had only gone from bad to worse. In the Fire Pits of Kharthrun, she had failed to foresee that Shann would go after Lyall alone. This time, she had managed to misread the situation once again. When she had seen the flying machine parked next to this remote place in the hills, it seemed certain that these were their attackers. Yet she had been wrong and her actions had come close to provoking a serious conflict. Despite his shortcomings, Lyall seemed to possess an instinct for dealing with people and situations that she lacked. I never wanted this.

  “Don’t feel too bad,” Alondo was saying. “Apart from the trauma to the children, the smashed window and the crippled flying craft, there’s no real damage done.”

  Keris looked at him squarely. “Are you trying to be funny?”

  “No, of course not…sorry,” he said. There was a short silence, broken finally by Alondo. “Lyall needs a healer, but the nearest one is in a town some distance from here, and their only form of transport is…they don’t have any form of transport. So they’ve sent someone on foot. They should be back some time tomorrow.” Alondo cast around as if looking for something to lighten the mood. “I’ve agreed to play a concert later.”

  “You’ve what?”

  “Absolutely,” he grinned. “Kelanni everywhere love music. It’s a great way to bring people together and build trust. The youngsters are quite excited about it. You don’t have to sing along, but you do have to smile.”

  “I…really don’t think–”

  “Nonsense, you’ll be there. Orders from your ‘ambassador’. Actually, I was thinking of composing a brand new tune, one in honour of your first contact with the people beyond the Barrier.” She looked at him dangerously. “Sorry,” he said again.

  Keris drew a long breath. She was starting to relax. The crazy musician had an odd way of doing that to you. Perhaps I can offer him some comfort in return? “How are you dealing with Shann and Boxx?” she asked.

  Alondo’s brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

  Keris was not sure how to answer. It felt as if she had walked up a blind alley and promptly forgotten the way out. “I…well, the fact that they’re gone.”

  “Sorry, you’re right,” he said. “I should enquire of these folk if they’ve seen them–ask them to get word out. Boxx should stick out like a sore thumb, right?”

  It wasn’t at all the reaction she was expecting. He hasn’t accepted what’s happened. Should I confront him with the truth? No, he has to come to terms with it in his own time and in his own way. Lyall, maybe I’m finally learning from you.

  “That sounds like a good idea,” she said.

  ~

  “…Come you miners near and far,

  To the hills of fair Tragar,

  Fortune find you where you are,

  You brave men of Thalissa.

  Delving deep beneath the ground,

  Where the diamonds do abound,

  And great riches may be found,

  By brave men of Thalissa.”

  The strains of Alondo’s instrument faded, to be replaced by a tumultuous round of applause. The group of Kelanni were seated on the floor around Alondo, their faces beaming. Keris sat on a stool a little way back, doing her best to smile, as ordered. The little girl glanced at her nervously every now and then.

  “‘Brave Men of Thalissa’ is one of my most popular ditties,” Alondo explained to his audience. “It’s actually a drinking song.”

  “Drinking?” One of the two males repeated.

  “Yes, you know, drinking.” Alondo made exaggerated quaffing gestures, leading to peals of laughter from the little throng. There was no doubt about it, Keris mused. Alondo was a hit in both worlds. She was grateful at least that he seemed to have largely undone the damage she had wrought earlier. It was a thing of wonder to see that, in a single day, he had virtually managed to get them eating out of his hand.

  Keris found that the more she listened, the more she was able to make sense of their odd-sounding dialect. Alondo was right–there were similar words and expressions. Once you got used to the inflections, you could make out the gist of what they were saying. She noticed too that when he could not quite make out their speech, Alondo used a simple but effective technique–he asked them to slow down.

  “We came here by ship,” he told them.

  “What is…a ship?” the other male asked.<
br />
  Alondo addressed him directly. “A ship is a vessel that travels on the sea, Dargath.” The gathering looked at each other uncomprehendingly. “Anyhow,” he continued, “Keris here saved us from the hostile avionic. We would not have survived without her. She is a great hunter in our world.”

  All eyes turned to Keris. It was as if she were suddenly pinned to the spot. She felt a small rush of irritation at the musician. She had agreed to be present for his ‘performance’ but she had certainly not agreed to be a part of the entertainment. Still, they were all looking at her expectantly. She had to say something. “I…just shoved everyone into a bog.”

  There was long pause. Then, to her consternation, the room erupted into laughter. Alondo added, “… thereby saving all our lives.”

  One of the women grew serious. “Avionics do not have…weapons.”

  Keris’ face grew dark. “We know what we saw. We didn’t make it up. There’s a man lying unconscious back there because of what happened.”

  An awkward silence settled momentarily over the gathering. Then Alondo’s good-natured banter broke the mood like a ray of sun bursting through lowering cloud. “Well, let’s see if we can’t rouse him with our singing. Does anyone here know ‘The Old Kelanni of the West’?” There was a chorus of shaking heads. “It’s one for the youngsters, really. It tells the story of an old man who is challenged by a dagan to a race…” There was a murmur from the audience. “What’s a dagan?” Alondo repeated. “Well, it’s a creature that…well, you’ll get the idea.”

  He strummed a bouncy intro, then launched into the rousing melody.

  “The old Kelanni of the west,

  A man both wise and true,

  Did run with all the splendid beasts,

  And all their wisdom knew.

  Then one fine day a dagan said,

  ‘I am the fastest hind,

  Indeed, for I am swifter yet,

  Than any of your kind’.

  The old man laughed and laughed again,

  Till tears ran down his face.

  ‘If that be so, my noble friend,

  Then we shall have a race...’”

  The other Kelanni were tapping to the rhythm with obvious enjoyment. Keris stood quietly and slipped out from the back of the room, unnoticed. As she ascended the staircase, sounds of music blended with laughter drifted up toward her. She did not look back. At the top of the stairs, she turned left and entered the first door. Lyall lay on a cot with his eyes closed, breathing gently. She selected a stool, pulled it to his bedside and sat down.

  As she watched his chest rise and fall, she felt a growing sense of…irritation. It was his recklessness that had thrust her into the position of having to take charge, of being constantly responsible for the lives of others–but not for much longer. If events played out as she anticipated, then she would soon be alone once more and free to pursue the mission to which she had dedicated herself. The soldiers at the gatehouse. Ferenek. Nikome. Mordal. Saccath, Shann, Boxx. Perhaps then, all of the death and sacrifice she had witnessed would finally have meaning.

  Hurry up and get well, Lyall.

  <><><><><>

  Chapter 11

  The Healer arrived the next day, right on schedule. Keris was seated in her corner of the living room, keeping the plant company, when she heard a low vibrating sound. She leapt up and shot out through the front door, skidding to a halt in the yard and shielding her eyes against the brightness of the midday suns. Two identical flying machines hovered overhead, like great silver fish with whirring fins on either flank. Behind her, the others had started to gather: Alondo, distinctive in his russet coat and crimson hat; the children, jumping and waving, desperately trying to catch the attention of the crafts’ occupants.

  It was an impressive sight, but one that sounded a cold note of discord deep inside Keris. These aerial craft were exactly like the one that had so callously attempted to strafe them on their way here from the coast. The people beyond the Barrier seemed welcoming enough, now that the initial misunderstandings had been cleared out of the way. Yet Keris could not shake the thought that somewhere out there, prowling the moors, there was someone who was determined to destroy them.

  The machines descended in unison, the sound of their engines becoming deafening as they plucked up clouds of powdered snow. Landing struts extended as they came to rest, settling back and powering down. Both canopies were pushed back and four figures clambered out, two from each craft. One pair were dressed in blue coveralls. They strode over and spoke a few words to the one called Dargath. He glanced in her direction, but his expression was unreadable. Then he accompanied them as they made their way to the left side of the building, where the damaged avionic languished. Keris wondered what the repair bill was likely to be. It hardly mattered, since whatever these people used for money, she didn’t have any.

  Of the other two, one she recognised as the thin youth who had been dispatched the previous day to fetch a Healer; the other was much older and shorter, with rheumy eyes and an impatient manner. He toted a massive black carpet bag that did not look as if it could possibly have fitted into the cockpit he had just extricated himself from. He struggled over with his burden and exchanged a few curt words with the other adults, waving them away as they offered to take the bag for him. Slowly, the little procession entered the house, Keris following at a discreet distance.

  They climbed the stairs and entered the room where Lyall lay. The Healer put his bag on the floor and herded them all out, closing the door behind him. Alondo stood patiently in the hallway while the others dispersed. Keris descended the stairs once more and went back to her corner. She drew her staff and began to inspect and clean it in a methodical fashion.

  A while later, Alondo entered and sat opposite her. “Lyall is awake.”

  She glanced up at him, then returned to her polishing. “That’s good.”

  “He seems to have suffered a bad concussion, along with cuts and bruises, but their Healer couldn’t find anything else wrong. Rest–that seems to be what he needs most right now. Rest and time.” She nodded, rubbing the cloth smoothly over the darkwood. “Would you like to see him?” Alondo offered.

  She continued staring down at the haft. “Maybe later.”

  “You know, you and he are not that much different.”

  She stopped her work, looking up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You both expect too much of yourselves. And you blame yourselves for things you have no control over. The truth is, we would be laying dead out there on that heath land if it wasn’t for you.”

  She stared into space. “I was wrong about these people. I read all of the signs correctly, but they led me to the wrong conclusion. And yet…we were attacked. There has to be some explanation for that. There is another influence at work here–it may be something that even these people are unaware of.”

  Alondo nodded thoughtfully. “I agree. The people here seem as disturbed about what happened to us as we are. They mentioned someone called Byrdach. They say he is ‘Prefect’ of the local town, although I’m not sure from their description whether that corresponds to a headman or a watchkeeper–maybe he’s a little of both. Anyway, they suggested we talk to him as soon as we get the chance.”

  Keris was not sure that was wise; they could still not be sure who was friend and who was foe in this place. She decided to let the matter drop for now and deal with a more pressing issue. “Alondo, how far have you got with figuring out Annata’s machine?”

  Alondo blew through his teeth. “Not very far, I’m afraid. Back at the Calandra in Sakara, I was trying to draw up a schematic–an inner map of the workings of the device. It seemed as reasonable a place to start as any. All machines have an internal logic to their operation. It occurred to me that if I could understand that logic, then I might understand what it was that was powering it. The only source of help I had was Boxx. Now that it’s gone, I…”

  “Might the people here be able to help y
ou?” she suggested. “After all, they do seem to have a knowledge of machines.”

  “The same thought had occurred to me,” Alondo said. “But I’ve talked to the people here, and none of them are engineers.”

  “What about the two who are repairing the flying machine?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Alondo concurred. “But they are only here for a limited time. I would need to sit down with someone for an extended period to figure this thing out. A town, one with an artisans’ district, would seem to be our best bet.”

  Keris weighed their options. “How long before Lyall can travel?”

  Alondo shrugged. “Hard to say exactly–several days at least. Why do you ask?”

  “I think you and I should use the time to make discreet enquiries. We mustn’t attract too much attention to ourselves. And we will have to be careful how much information we reveal and to whom. It’s possible that the Prophet’s forces were behind the assault on us.”

  “You have no proof of that,” the round-faced musician pointed out.

  “No, but I don’t think we can discount the possibility either. If the Prophet does know that we have passed beyond the Barrier, and he has somehow sent his people here after us, then we are in constant danger. We cannot relax our guard, even for an instant.”

  Alondo grinned. “In that case, I would say that it’s a good thing we have the ‘Heroine of Gort’ watching our backs.”

  ~

  Alexander Edward McCann, human, former ship’s engineer and covert operative on the side of the planet that the Kelanni called Skell, stood on a rocky knoll overlooking the settlement of Kieroth. Behind and below him, his aircraft waited. It was both the perfect transport and the perfect cover. Having the appearance of one of their avionics, it attracted no attention, allowing him to move through the skies of Skell with complete anonymity. Yet its fusion power source meant that unlike the Kelanni version, it did not have to be recharged every few miles. It also meant he could travel between the mainland and the human settlement on Helice. Of course, according to the terms of the armistice forced on them by the Kelanni sixteen years ago, no human was permitted to leave the island. However, humans had broken that rule many times when it suited their purpose. As a result, they already had control of the even more primitive and superstitious civilisation that had crawled its way up on the side of the planet known as Drann. It would not be long before they finally crushed the inhabitants of this side and attained complete mastery over the negative matter the locals called lodestone. At least, that was what Wang kept insisting.