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

by Mark Whiteway

  “As for Lyall—well, he has a lot of things on his mind right now. One is holding together this fragile alliance of ours. I have no doubt that we can rely on Rael’s wholehearted support, but when it comes to Frang and the rest of his drach—their position is a little more ambiguous. Now we are beyond avionic range, Lyall believes they will keep in line, since they don’t have the necessary skills to pilot a ship. When we get to Helice it might be a different story. For now though, I think we can look forward to a relatively peaceful voyage... ” A loud crash behind them was followed by a sharp exchange of raised voices. “Of course, I could be mistaken.”

  ~

  “What’s going on here?” Lyall demanded. Keris stood toe to toe with one of the drach, a small man with ferrety eyes and a pinched face. Each had a hand on the hilt of their weapon. Each seemed to be waiting for the other to blink. Behind them, the open door to the sterncastle creaked on its hinges as the deck rolled in the swell. “I asked you both; what’s going on?” he repeated.

  Keris’s voice carried a hard edge. “This... person tried to pilfer our belongings.”

  “That is a lie,” the drach countered.

  Everyone on the tiny vessel was gathering—drawn to the site of the altercation. Patris, Rael, and Boxx appeared behind him. Shann and Alondo descended the ladder that led to the foredeck. Ahead of them, Frang and the other drach strode purposefully across the main deck. They looked as if they were spoiling for a fight. This is going to get ugly very soon unless I do something.

  “I saw you,” the tall woman insisted.

  Lyall took a step forward, bright blue eyes flashing beneath a swirl of sandy hair. “What did you see exactly, Keris?”

  “When I entered the sterncastle he was there on his own, bending over Shann’s pack.”

  “Did you actually see him take anything?” Lyall probed.

  Keris scowled. “I know what this filthy gundir was doing.”

  Frang arrived and muscled his way to the centre of the group. His voice was a bass growl. “What’s all this?”

  Lyall locked eyes with the big man. “One of your people has been accused of going through our things.”

  Frang huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. We would have no interest in your primitive equipment.”

  “Maybe I should test my ‘primitive’ blade against your sophisticated throat.”

  “Keris,” Lyall rebuked her. The red-cloaked woman fell silent but showed no signs of standing down. He turned his attention back to Frang, keeping his voice as even as he could manage. “May I ask what your man was doing in our quarters?”

  “What were you doing, Roloff?” Frang barked.

  Roloff did not take his eyes off Keris. “I was looking for the one who operates this vessel—to ask how long before we reached the island where the hu-mans are.”

  “There, you see?” Frang said. Keris snorted loudly.

  Lyall had to admit that he shared the woman’s scepticism. The explanation was wafer thin. However, it didn’t matter. They had a task to accomplish, and conflict was a luxury they simply couldn’t afford. “I think it might be wise to set some boundaries,” he began, “to avoid any further... misunderstandings. From now on, the sterncastle will be off limits to you and your men. My people will similarly not enter the forecastle without your permission. Are we agreed?”

  Frang’s flat face was dark under his heavy brows. “Very well. However, I expect you to keep your... group under control. My men are here for your protection. They do not take kindly to being threatened.”

  He jerked his head in an unspoken command for Roloff to follow, then turned on his heel and marched off. The crowd began to disperse, heads hung low in silent contemplation. Keris remained rooted to the spot, watching the blue-coats’ receding backs, her hand still on her weapon as if she was expecting them to turn and attack at any moment.

  Lyall placed himself between Keris and the retreating drach and placed a restraining hand on her weapon arm to get her attention. “Enough.”

  “I don’t like it,” Keris hissed. “There’s no way that drach was simply looking for Patris. I tell you, they’re up to something.”

  For the hundredth time, Lyall felt a twinge of regret at having given in to the Scientific Directorate’s demand that the drach accompany them on this voyage. However, like it or not, the watchmen were here now. If Frang and his men did indeed have a hidden agenda, then that would no doubt become evident in time. “Whether that’s true or not, Keris—somehow we have to try and make this work.”

  “Yes, well from now on, I’ll be watching them like a perridon. And I’m telling you, if they try to pull a stunt like that again, I’ll personally toss them overboard one by one and they can swim home.”

  She stalked off past the mast, where the sail bearing Lyall’s emblem of the linked hemispheres—the symbol that represented the uniting of the two halves of their world—lay limp in the faltering breeze.

  <><><><><>

  Chapter 3

  As the morning wore on, the wind dropped away and their tiny vessel was reduced to an agonisingly slow crawl. Waves lapped at the hull, but the gentle lullaby did little to ease the growing tension on board. Prior to the confrontation between Keris and the drach Roloff, the two groups seemed content to ignore each other. Now the air was redolent with distrust and suspicion, manifesting in stolen glances, furtive whispers, and truncated conversations.

  For Shann, the situation was made worse by the fact that she had little to do. As unofficial ‘First Mate’, she and Patris had been kept pretty busy trimming the sail and keeping the Reach on course as it tacked steadily across the ocean. Now, the flaccid sail hung impotently from the crosstrees as the twin suns shone down on them from a perfect azure sky. Every square inch of canvas was exposed to catch whatever breath of wind might pass their way, but it made little difference.

  With idleness came a growing sense of insecurity. She had taken to following Alondo around the deck like a lost gundir pup. The musician seemed not to mind, and his manner was as amiable as ever. However, a small voice at the back of her mind eventually castigated her that she was wearing out her welcome, so she excused herself and headed for the sterncastle. She opened the door and immediately saw Lyall, Keris, and Patris at the far end of the cabin, in a tight circle, clearly deep in discussion. The conversation cut off as soon as she entered. Shann’s eye flicked from one to the other, registering their grave expressions. “I’m sorry, I’ll come back later.”

  “No, no, it’s all right.” Lyall beckoned her over. “Come and join us.” Shann accepted the invitation. Keris and Patris moved over to admit her, and she sat on a bunk with her hands folded in her lap. “Patris, would you repeat what you told us, for the benefit of our young friend here?”

  The weather-beaten sailor-thief nodded once. “The ship is not exactly becalmed, but it’s pretty close to it. I have no experience of the weather patterns here, but it shows no signs of breaking any time soon. Under these conditions, I would normally recommend breaking out the launch and attaching a line to row her forward. Ideally, eight people would man the launch while two would remain on board. We would rotate periodically to give some a rest. I’m leaving Boxx out, of course. Even if we could communicate what we wanted it to do, it doesn’t look as if it could handle an oar. That leaves the six of us and the four drach.”

  “You think they’ll meekly agree to us putting them in a small boat?” Keris proceeded to answer her own question. “Not a chance. And there’s no way we’re giving them the run of the ship by leaving them here by themselves.”

  Shann frowned. “Why can’t we use lodestone to pull the ship? Like we did when we crossed the Great Barrier of Storms.”

  “We already thought of that,” Keris said. “Pulling the ship would fully occupy those trained in the cloak—you, me, and Lyall. That would leave Rael, Alondo, and Patris—three virtually unarmed people—plus Boxx, to face four armed drach.”

  “You think they would try and seize the ship?”
Shann asked.

  “I think it’s a distinct possibility,” Keris said.

  Shann recalled her earlier conversation with Alondo. “But... they can’t sail the ship without us.”

  “If you think about it, they only need Patris and maybe Shann here,” Lyall pointed out. “The rest of us would be expendable.”

  Shann shook her head. “I still don’t see what they would have to gain. We control the four components. Without us, the entire mission to disable the hu-man weapon would be compromised.”

  “Maybe they are on a different mission from us?” Keris’s question felt like a hammer. “Oliah believes that the Prophet somehow influenced the asoli to help facilitate the takeover of Sakara,” she continued. “If the asoli could be corrupted, then why not the drach?”

  “We have no proof of that,” Shann insisted. “And if we can’t trust one another sufficiently to work together, then we could be stuck here for who knows how long.”

  Silence fell over the gathering as each of them absorbed the implications. It was Keris who finally spoke. “There is a solution— only... you might not like it.”

  “Tell us,” Lyall urged.

  “We get them out of the way.”

  Shann was horrified. “You can’t be serious. You told me you wouldn’t sacrifice anyone else.”

  “I agree,” Lyall said. “Throwing them overboard isn’t an option, Keris.”

  The red-cloaked woman shook her head, vigorously. “You misunderstand me. I’m not suggesting we kill them; just restrain them.”

  “You mean imprison them? Where?” Patris asked.

  “Where is not a problem. The hold should be more than adequate. How might be a little more difficult. But if the operation is sufficiently well planned, I believe we could do it.”

  “No,” Lyall declared.

  Keris raised her eyebrows. “No?”

  “It’s too risky,” Lyall said, “and we would lose whatever chance we have of working with them. Look, I’m the one who agreed to have them on board. It’s my responsibility. I will talk with this ‘Frang’ to see whether I can ascertain his loyalties.”

  Keris opened her mouth. Shouts. A noisy commotion. It was coming from outside. She jumped to her feet, straining her ears. “Sounds like trouble... Lyall, Shann—cloaks and staffs, quickly. Patris, you’re safest here for the moment.” She turned and made for the door without waiting for acknowledgment or agreement.

  Shann scrabbled for her pack and pulled out the new red cloak, fastening the neck clasps and watching as Lyall did the same. It was the first time she had donned the new equipment. I hope I can get the hang of this thing.

  She grabbed her staff, looked up, and saw that the door to the sterncastle had been left wide open. Running feet and cries of alarm drifted in on the still air. Keris was gone.

  ~

  Shann burst onto the deck just behind Lyall, and her jaw dropped. Towering over the sides of the ship were three... no, four tenticular arms as thick as her body. Dark olive, mottled and glistening with seawater, they swayed, then lashed out with astonishing speed and accuracy.

  The drach were grouped together on the main deck. Three of them, including the imposing figure of Frang, had their peculiar silver staff weapons pointed at the serpent-like appendages and were letting off bursts of crackling energy, which seemed to be having little or no effect. The fourth lay face down on the deck, not moving.

  On the port side, Keris was a crimson whirlwind, her diamond blade hacking and slicing at one of the massive arms. Shann spotted Rael on the foredeck, hiding behind the crenellations—safe for the moment. Boxx was no doubt rolled up into its shell somewhere. She could not see Alondo.

  Lyall’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. “Come on. We have to help Keris.”

  She drew her staff and raced after him across the deck. They came up behind Keris just as she was giving ground. The great arm already bore numerous score marks from which a viscous orange fluid seeped. “Nice of you to join me,” Keris said without turning.

  The flattened end of the serpent-arm swayed high above them as if trying to catch a scent on the still air, before stabbing down at the deck, like a spear. The three red-cloaked figures scattered.

  Shann threw herself to one side and rolled away as the beast’s tentacle hit the deck with a thump, then shot upwards again. Lyall dived the other way and lay flat on his back. A short distance beyond him, Keris was crouched down—staff at the ready. Her dark eyes tracked the huge tentacle.

  “In the name of the Three, what is that thing?” Shann cried.

  Keris’s voice was grim. “Whatever it is, it bleeds. That’s all I need to know.”

  She leapt forward to the ship’s rail and renewed her assault. Lyall, too, joined the fray, stabbing at the prehensile limb. Shann was about to pile in when something stopped her. A memory. She gazed up at the massive trunk which loomed over the deck. At Kharthrun, when they battled the Great Serpent, Keris had volunteered to serve as a distraction while she and Lyall tried to seek out its vulnerable spots. Mannatar gambit, she called it—from shassatan, the board game. Maybe they could do something like that here? But what were this thing’s vulnerable spots, if any?

  The large flattened club at the tip must be used for probing and grasping, so it would make sense that it would be the most sensitive part of the creature. Attacking that part—severing it if possible—would no doubt severely disable it. But the end of the tentacle was perhaps forty feet above the deck... The lodestone set into the Reach’s foredeck...if she angled it right—used Lyall or Keris’s upper lodestone layer as a baseline...

  “Mannatar gambit,” she called. “Keep it occupied.”

  Keris paused in her attack and shot a glance in Shann’s direction. Her face and tunic were stained with the orange fluid. “What are you going to do?”

  “Watch and see.” Shann turned on her heel and sprinted past the drach, who were ineffectually trying to battle a tentacle on the ship’s starboard side. She reached the ladder and climbed rapidly to the foredeck, feeling for the neck controls of her new red cloak. Held securely by its deck mountings, the avionic took up most of the deck space. She turned and regarded the melee taking place on the ship’s port side from her raised perspective. Keris and Lyall continued to jab and thrust at the massive arm as it loomed above them, readying another strike.

  Suddenly the ship lurched beneath her feet. Another tentacle had appeared over the other side and two of the huge arms were now dragging at their tiny vessel, causing it to list to starboard. If this keeps up, the ship will capsize. We don’t have much time.

  Shann blipped her lodestone layer, feeling the push of lodestone from the foredeck and judging her trajectory. It would take a leap of considerable proportions to reach the club end of the creature’s tentacle. With the black cloak she doubted she would make it, but the red cloak had a special boost facility—an electrostatic charge, Rael called it. Well, this is as good a time as any to test it.

  She readied herself for a run and push off the foredeck. Something tugged at the end of her cloak. She spun round in annoyance to see Rael kneeling behind her. Alondo was hunkered down a short distance away. She noticed that he did not have his vortex arm; no doubt it was back at the sterncastle, on the opposite side to where the battle raged, so that he was cut off from the vibration device. Maybe it was just as well. She doubted whether it would have had any more effect on the creature than the drach’s lightning weapons, and at least it meant that he was out of harm’s way. She turned her attention back to Rael. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  His voice carried a terrible urgency. “The spines. Watch out for the spines.”

  Shann shook her head. She had no idea what the boy was blathering about, and there was no time to discuss it. She snatched the cloak from his grasp, snapped on the boost control, fully extended her upper lodestone layer, and vaulted into the air.

  ~

  Shann gasped as the impetus of the initial lift threatened to wren
ch her shoulders out of their sockets. She sailed up and over the Reach’s main deck. Far below, the blue-coated drach lowered their lightning weapons and followed her progress with upturned faces. She angled her line of flight to the ship’s starboard side, where Lyall and Keris were still hacking at the nearest tentacle arm. The speed of her approach meant that she was likely to get in no more than a single blow. Better make it a good one.

  As she shot past the flattened club end, Shann swung the staff with every ounce of her strength. She felt the diamond blade connect. Immediately, she flared her cloak once more, pushing against the upper lodestone layer of the cloaked figure beneath her and slowing her descent. She heard an “Oomph.” She alighted on the deck to find Lyall on his knees and Keris helping him to his feet.

  Shann sensed a movement at the corner of her vision and glanced up to see the gigantic tentacle whipping towards her. She stepped backwards instinctively. The tip stopped short of the deck and curved upwards, flattened end raised in front of her like the palm of an immense hand. Sickly orange fluid bled from a laceration where the wrist would be. Time to finish the job.

  As she tightened her grip on the staff, two semicircles of flesh in the midst of the palm suddenly parted, revealing a single huge eye— bright vermillion iris, yellow sclera with lines radiating from the centre. Another smaller appendage appeared, just below the eye. Before she could react, something whipped outwards, penetrating her arm and sending a jolt through her. A primeval presence touched the edge of her consciousness, cold and implacable as the depths of the sea.

  A voice sounded from within; hers, and yet not hers. Like two individuals—two wills—superimposed on one another. She bent down, squeezed her eyes shut, and pressed the heels of her palms against her temples.