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

by Mark Whiteway

  Lyall flashed an ingratiating smile. “I appreciate the offer, thank you. No doubt you’ll be adding all of that to our bill?”

  “No,” he said. “This I’m doing for myself.” The others regarded him strangely. Keris looked positively shocked. Patris was not the same person since his experiences in the dome. None of them were. He turned to Boxx. “One thing I still don’t understand. Why put us through all of this? What was it you were supposed to be testing for?”

  The Chandara stood up on its hind legs once more and cocked its head to one side, fixing Patris with eyes of unfathomable black. “Integrity,” it said.

  ~

  (Eighteen days later.)

  With a single creak from its protesting hull, the Reach moved smoothly backwards down the slipway, gathering speed, until it hit the water. Lyall did his best to hold on to the rigging as the deck bucked and heaved before settling onto an even keel. The slender avionic stayed immobile, its landing struts held fast to the foredeck by iron hasps.

  Lyall, Alondo and Shann stood together on the main deck. They were each dressed in loose fitting, light grey tunic and trousers, suitable for deck hands. Over on the stern deck, four drach in their customary blue surcoats stood watch, sunlight reflecting off the peculiar staff weapons they carried on their backs. Their commander, whose name was Frang, had a flat face and a strong, forbidding jaw line. He looked like a man who had never given an inch in his life.

  Lyall was beginning to have some misgivings about the deal he had struck with the Scientific Directorate. To begin with, the chain of command was less than clear. He was in overall charge of his people and he counted Rael in among those. The boy might be from this world, but he had repeatedly demonstrated where his loyalties lay. Frang, on the other hand, took his orders from the Directorate. Ostensibly, he and his drach were there to provide protection and to secure the ship, but Lyall could not help but wonder what clandestine orders they might have been given. It seemed highly unlikely that they would interfere with the mission to disable the hu-man weapon. However, if a conflict of interest arose, there could be problems. He thought of discussing the situation with Keris, but he did not want to risk precipitating the very conflict he was seeking to avoid.

  Patris’ head appeared above the hatchway. He hauled himself up and joined the others assembled on the main deck. “No leaks,” he announced. “She seems to be watertight. I see no reason why we shouldn’t get underway immediately.” He addressed Lyall. “With your permission.”

  Lyall nodded. “By all means.”

  The sailor’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the sky overhead and checked wind direction. “Shann, shin up the yardarm and loosen the sail ties. Lyall, Alondo, get ready to pull in the halyard.” Now that he was in his element once more, Patris seemed more settled–more sure of himself than he had been in a long time. He headed aft to take charge of the rudder.

  Lyall hauled the line hand over hand and watched the sail unfurl, displaying their new emblem–two hemispheres, linked together at top and bottom. To begin with, the Directorate had insisted that the party sail under their insignia. Adopting Lyall’s alternative design had been their one and only concession. Kelanni from both worlds united in common purpose. Let’s hope we can live up to the ideal.

  The ship began to come about, turning away from the crowd assembled on the shore. They stood in respectful silence. Perhaps each of them was giving thanks that he or she was not preparing to cross a turbulent ocean to face an island full of dangerous hu-mans.

  The sail flapped briefly in the crosswind, then filled out like a chest puffed with pride. Lyall tied off the halyard and brushed off his hands.

  Rael was over by the avionic, checking its moorings. He wore a smart green jacket which, he had explained sheepishly, was the official garb of the Directorate’s Physics and Astronomy Division. As with everything else he wore, it looked too small for him. The boy had freely admitted that hands-on maintenance was not his forte. However, the flying machine was the property of the Directorate, bearing their crest on the fuselage just below the cockpit, and that made it his responsibility.

  “The hu-mans exiled on Helice are violent and dangerous,” Hannath had told him. “The spy that you encountered at the Tower of Akalon had an avionic. There may be more of them on the island. You should be prepared.” The flying machine looked quite incongruous, perched on the foredeck like an absurd figurehead. However, Lyall was not about to quibble over anything that might give them an edge.

  Alondo was standing by, waiting for orders. “Have you talked to Oliah yet?” Lyall asked.

  “I haven’t Ringed her yet today, no.”

  “Why don’t you head for the stern castle and Ring her from there? With everyone else out on deck, you should have some privacy. Let her know we’re underway, and ask her how things are progressing in Sakara?”

  Alondo smiled warmly. “I’ll do that. Thanks.” He headed aft.

  Patchy white clouds scudded across an azure sky. Lyall felt the stiff breeze against his cheeks. The Reach was gathering speed, heading out into the open sea. He watched as the sail began to luff. Shann trimmed its leading edge, and the windward edge settled down once more. Soon they would veer north and begin the long journey to the unexplored island that lay in the midst of the Erigone Sea.

  Lyall turned to see Keris approaching with Boxx. The tall woman seemed to glide over the deck. She wore the magnificent new red cloak that Alondo and Rael had jointly presented to them the previous evening. Alondo, as usual, had used it as an opportunity to test the limits of Keris’ patience.

  As they had gathered in the observatory sitting room, its walls lined with ticking and whirring timepieces, the musician had taken centre stage. “The combined genius of two worlds has come up with something special. I give you…” he reached into a nearby chest and pulled forth its contents with a flourish, “the red cloak.” Lyall had not been able to suppress a smile. It was a cloak, and yes, it was red. “We decided that having to dress as Keltar wasn’t too good for morale. So we thought we would create something a little more distinctive.” He looked pointedly at Keris. “What do you think?”

  “It’s a nice colour,” she said.

  “Is that all you have to say?” Alondo blustered. “Do you have any idea how much time I put into that thing?”

  “It’s…a very nice colour,” she offered.

  Rael was snickering in the background. “He’s holding out on you. Here…” He held out his arm to Alondo who graciously relinquished the garment. “Actually, we have made a couple of further enhancements. First, there’s the addition of a power cell. It can be attached to a belt and connected to the lodestone here…” He indicated a place at the collar. “The cell stores electrical energy. When activated, it harnesses the electrostatic properties of the lodestone, increasing the power of the cloak by around forty percent. The boost will last about fifty dahns before reverting to normal. The cell can be recharged from a suitable electrical outlet.”

  “It’s a way of flying higher and farther,” Alondo added with a grin.

  Rael looked around at him. “That’s right. You’ll also notice another new control here. We’ve added a lower lodestone layer beneath the bronze.”

  “That one was my idea,” Alondo pointed out cheerfully.

  “Now, if the upper lodestone layer is damaged, the cloak should still function,” Rael explained. “More importantly, if you employ all three layers in conjunction with a deposit of lodestone, then the upward pressure on the bottom layer can be balanced with the downward pressure from the upper layer. With a little practice, we believe you should be able to hover, if only for short periods.”

  It came as no surprise that Keris would want to try out her new toy at the earliest opportunity. She came to a halt on the deck in front of him. “The new cloak is powerful, but the controls are difficult to master. We should commence training exercises as soon as possible.”

  Lyall shaded his eyes, looked up and saw that Shann was busy in t
he rigging once again. “Perhaps later. When we’re fully underway.”

  “Very well.” Keris swept past him and headed for the afterdeck with Boxx in tow.

  Lyall glanced about him and saw that everyone else was either occupied or looking the other way. He moved to the hatchway, lifted it carefully and descended the ladder. The hold smelt of new wood and caulking. As Patris had declared, there was no evidence of leakage.

  Lyall stood at the bottom in the half-light and felt something hard and round in his left side pocket. He glanced up at the hatchway, checking that he had not been followed, then pulled it out and opened his hand slowly. The small flat silver annulus lay in his palm like a guilty secret. Keris had referred to them as ‘eaves’. During his time inside the dome of grey mist at Drani-Kathaar, he had been shown a way to save Aune. Call it a prophecy. In any case, he had been told that the one on the other end of this listening device could set her free. Only there would be a price to pay.

  He did not know what the price would be, or indeed if the prophecy were true. All he knew was that he had no choice. He was set now on a path–a path that he had to pursue until the very end.

  — End of Book Two —

  ********************

  Lodestone

  Book Three:

  The Crucible of Dawn

  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.

  For my wife, Sandra

  ***

  Book Three: The Crucible of Dawn

  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 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  “The stone of despair and the staff

  of hope— may they be forged as one

  in the crucible of a new dawn.”

  The Chronicles of Shann

  Twenty-First Stanza, Thirty-Second Line.

  “I don’ like the look o’ them there clouds.”

  Yonach came to a halt, his boots sinking slightly in the powdery snow. He raised his head to the sky.

  Yaron, his younger brother and partner, caught up to him a moment later. The young Kelanni pointed at the darkening mantle obscuring the mountain peaks. “Weather be closin’ in. We should be turnin’ back.”

  Yonach sized up the situation—wind speed and direction, distance to the ice field, distance from their avionic at the foot of the mountain. He checked the whirring timepiece at his belt, then clapped Yaron on the back. “Bein’ a lodestone hunter’s no fun without a little risk, y’know. C’mon, it’s not far now. We should be good fer a couple o’ ornahs at least.”

  Lodestone hunter. He liked the old epithet so much better than the new one—prospector—imposed by the Scientific Directorate. For generations, the lodestone hunters had scoured the glaciers and ice floes in search of the valuable ore while facing dangers of the mountain, answering to no one.

  Then five turns ago, the Directorate had stepped in to control the supply and production of lodestone. Overnight, the proud and independent lodestone hunters were turned into ‘licensed prospectors’. The Directorate made registration mandatory, and ore could only be sold to the Metallurgy Division. Ore prices were fixed but fairly generous, and it could be argued that with a guaranteed market, the hunters were now better off than they had ever been.

  Yonach shook his head. That was not the point. It felt as if his way of life had come to an end.

  He lived for the challenge of the mountain—the bright snow; the crisp, clean air; the ever-present anticipation of a massive find just over the next rise that would make them both rich overnight. Damned if he’d be put off by a bunch of pen-pushing bureaucrats or a little bad weather.

  He locked eyes with Yaron. “C’mon. The sooner we’re there, the sooner we can get started.” He surged forward without waiting for an answer.

  Yaron gathered the reins of the empty sled and hurried to catch up. “What about the beasts?”

  Valthar. Shaggy-grey and three-horned, they stalked the lower slopes in packs. Yonach snorted. “Don’ tell me yer afraid of a few valthar.”

  “If the temperature falls, the murghal could descend from the pikes.”

  “When did y’ever see murghal at this low of an altitude?”

  “Well there have been—rumours. Some say that the Rime Slayers are becomin’ bolder, driven by hunger t’extend their range.”

  “Ya spend too much time in the taverns listenin’ t’ the tales o’ old women.”

  The two fur-clad figures trudged steadily up the snowy slope. Finally, the younger one spoke up once again. “Ever face down a murghal, Yonach?”

  “Sure. One time I wrestled a dozen of ’em wi’ nothin’ but ma bare hands.”

  “Liar.”

  Yonach laughed heartily.

  A moment later they crested a wide ridge. An ice field spread out before them like an immense, pure white cloak. Far off, the ground rose steeply once again towards the snow-covered sierras. A threatening stain of dark cloud, like smoke from night’s chimney, rolled down inexorably from the higher slopes.

  Yonach stared out across the ice, straining his eyes for any aberration—any dark spot on the smooth white surface. Nightly, streaks across the heavens heralded new falls of lodestone ore. Meteorites that could not normally be distinguished against any other landscape were readily visible out here on the open glacier.

  Yaron dropped the reins and joined his brother at the edge of the flat expanse. “See anythin’?”

  “There—an’ there.” Yonach indicated two tiny dots on the smooth surface. They were some distance apart—there might not be enough time to reach both locations before the weather closed in.

  Yaron pointed off to the right. “What about that one?”

  Yonach peered out across the ice. He could just about make out a faint smudge—more distant than the first two, but larger. A lot larger. He made the decision. “C’mon. Gotta hurry.” He set off across the ice.

  Yaron hurried to catch up once again. “We could just note its position an’ come back later.”

  “An’ let Tugen steal it from under our noses? Not likely.”

  “Have ya seen his new sled? It’s electrically powered. They say he can even ride on it.”

  The rival hunter’s mission in life was to ta
unt and humiliate the two brothers. Of course, it was all under the guise of friendly competition, but Yonach was more astute than that. He strongly suspected that Tugen was trying to paint them as outdated, perhaps with the idea of getting the Directorate to revoke their license. He doubted that the Directorate would actually do such a thing, but still... “There’s more t’ being a hunter than havin’ a fancy machine. A lot more.” He glanced behind and saw that the lad was nodding, but whether out of conviction or loyalty it was hard to say. Yonach forged ahead with renewed determination. There’s no way I’m losin’ out t’ Tugen.

  The sky darkened. The distant form on the ice grew larger. A squall buffeted them from all sides. A find as large as this could be difficult for two people to manhandle onto the sled. There was not much time.

  The wind quickened into a blizzard, hurling snow into Yonach’s eyes, obscuring his vision. They were nearly on top of the dark shape before he finally realised that it was not a meteorite at all.

  It was a body.

  ~

  All thoughts of triumph and avarice fled as Yonach knelt beside the motionless form. The figure was short, clad in thick Kelanni furs and lying face down. Beside it, partly covered by snow, was what looked like a weapon—silver with odd protuberances, not unlike the electrolaser that the drach carried. But what would drach be doing in these mountains?

  “’oo is it?” Yaron asked.

  Yonach smiled inwardly. Why did younger brothers automatically think their elder siblings had the answers to every question in the world? “Let’s see, shall we?” He placed one hand on a shoulder and another on an arm and pulled gently. The body was heavy. He heaved and slowly it rolled over.