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

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The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) Page 107

by Mark Whiteway


  “Pardon me?”

  “You Will Eat. You Will Remember. However, The Kelanni Brain Is Different. There Is Risk Of Damage.”

  She had no choice. If they were going to reach the keep, then they needed the Chandara’s help, and that meant winning their trust. Whatever or whoever this ‘Destroyer’ was, she had to know.

  She dismissed the knot forming in the pit of her stomach. “Let’s get on with it.”

  ~

  After a short walk, they arrived at a shady bower. Orange and honey-coloured leaves intertwined overhead. The air was cool and the ground was carpeted with soft purple grass interspersed with white flowers. It was a place of serenity. A place to forget all of your troubles. Keris would have liked nothing better than to curl up right now and go to sleep.

  The larval Chandara had melted away; whatever was due to take place, it was apparently something very private. Boxx stood before her, white wings folded.

  “Prepare Yourself.”

  Keris had no idea what to expect or how to prepare for it, so she settled for the obvious, slipping off her pack and laying her staff carefully on the ground beside her. She waited for Boxx to instruct her to remove her flying cloak, but the creature simply regarded her with its golden eyes.

  She sat on the grass and crossed her legs. “So, what’s so special about this place?”

  “The White Flowers,” Boxx replied. “They Contain The Allosteric Effector.” She reached down with her beak and plucked something from a small pouch in her breast. It was a transparent leathery vial similar to the one Boxx had given her at the Dais, except that it contained a clear fluid. She dropped it at Keris’s feet. “Eat.”

  Keris picked it up, turning it over in her fingers. “What is it?”

  “It Is Memory Of The Destroyer.”

  Without thinking, she broke off the tip and swallowed the contents. Bitterness invaded her tongue and she grimaced.

  “Now You Must Eat The Flowers.”

  She blinked, half-expecting Alondo to burst out of the shrubbery and declare her to be the victim of an elaborate practical joke. Nothing happened. She sighed, plucked a white bloom, and began to chew the petals. They had a silky consistency, but the taste was bland.

  “I don’t feel any different,” she announced after the fourth flower.

  “Close Your Eyes.”

  She obeyed, lying down on the grass. Her nostrils flared, welcoming the scent of growing things. A rhythmic cooing was answered by a more distant call. Her muscles relaxed, revelling in the release of tension. Then, without warning, it began.

  At first, the images were blurry, as if she were viewing them through her own tears. Shapes came and went or merged with others, giving no clue as to their form. There was a voice in her head—no, not a voice. Thoughts. Thoughts so different from her own that she struggled to make sense of them.

  Gradually, the images began to clear. She forced herself to concentrate on them, blotting out the thought-voice. It was another forest—far different from the one her body was lying in. Everything was shades of grey, enveloped in mist or light rain. Yet this was no ordinary rain. It clung to branches, dripped from leaves, percolated into soil, and invaded roots. And everything that the rain touched died.

  Bare branches were framed against the sky—a tableau of the final moment of life. Leaves covered the ground like brittle paper, partially covering small mounds. Only they were not mounds. They were small, shelled bodies. The thought-voice carried a terrible sadness that lay heavy on her heart.

  Bright silver birds descended, settling on the now-barren ground. As their roaring fell to silence, they disgorged creatures clad in shiny reflective clothing who looked over the scene or whispered or knelt to examine their handiwork. They were broad-shouldered and thick-limbed. And they had no tail. Unan-Chinneroth. Hu-mans.

  So hu-mans were responsible for the destruction of the Forest of Atarah and the Great Tree there. Her instinct had been correct. One more crime to lay at their door. But why? the investigator within her nagged. Why would the hu-mans poison this forest and the Chandara within it? What would they have to gain?

  The thought-voice sounded like a bell in her head. It Is The Way Of The Destroyer. Yet as much as she wanted to join in the condemnation, the explanation somehow seemed inadequate.

  One of the suited figures walked towards her. It bent over so that the head and torso filled her inner vision. The eyes were slate, the face chiselled and framed by an untidy bush of hair. The creature was leaner, with less grey, but she recognised him immediately. Alexander McCann.

  <><><><><>

  Chapter 45

  The waking dream faded and Keris gradually came to. Her mouth was filled with a metallic taste. The colours of the forest were unnaturally bright, and every rustle or faint susurration grated in her ears like an iron rasp. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the heels of her palms into her ears.

  Boxx stood over her, like a protective mother. “Are You Well, Keris?”

  There’s no need to yell. “Yes... No... I’ll be fine.”

  “You Saw The Destroyer?”

  She forced her eyes open. The daylight had fewer sharp needles, but a dull ache was starting to gather at the back of her skull. “Yes... Yes, I suppose I did.”

  The trees parted and dozens of larval Chandara scurried into the clearing. She hastily tried to marshal her thoughts. Involving McCann had been a mistake—that much was clear now. However, there was no time for regrets. Somehow, she had to win these creatures’ cooperation. The Chandara shared memories. That meant that all of them must have seen what she saw—felt what she felt.

  The chief emerged from the melee and planted its staff in the rich loam.

  She got to her feet unsteadily. “I’m sorry.” There was no reaction. “I am truly sorry for what happened to your kin beyond the Great Barrier. It was a terrible wrong. But Kelanni there are helping them to make the transformation. We will do the same for you—if you will let us.”

  “The Forest Path Is Dark And Cramped.” The chief’s shrill voice faltered. “There Are No Turnings For Her Children.”

  “And afterward. Will you help us?”

  “Why Does The Destroyer Walk Among You?”

  She glanced sideways at Boxx, but the adult Chandara remained silent. Keris swallowed. “We... did not know what he was—what he had done.” She had a sudden flash of inspiration. “Kelanni cannot share memories in the way that Chandara do. We rely on speech alone to convey thoughts. A person may be untruthful and there may be no way for us to know that they are lying.”

  The chief’s mouth rippled. “What Is Lying?”

  “Er... well, a lie is when you say something that is not correct. In order to make a false impression or... or to mislead someone... ” She saw the trap, but too late.

  “If Keris Is Lying, How Can Chandara Know?”

  Her head swam. “Trust,” she blurted out. “Kelanni and Chandara must learn to trust one another. The survival of both of our races depends on it. Will you help us? Please.”

  The ancient chief’s voice was a parched desert. “For Chandara There Is No Trust. Only Truth.” It turned and disappeared into the milling mass.

  She was bound by her oath to preserve these creatures—to help them to transform. But what then? Did they have the capacity to forgive the crimes that had been committed against them? Would they consent to help?

  The path before her was dark and cramped. And there were no turnings.

  ~

  On the flat rooftop where she had confronted Glaisne only a few days previously, Keris now stood with Boxx, Miron, Peira, and the three children, watching as clouds of charcoal and glowing embers drifted across the warm face of Ail-Mazzoth. The soldiers and Keltar who had ravaged the town of Lind in their search for her were long gone.

  Somewhere in the vicinity of Persillan to the north, Shann was overseeing the gathering of slag and its transport to Chalimar on whatever carriages, carts, or wagons she was able to procure.
r />   The streets below were unnaturally quiet, as if the town were holding its breath. Inside dozens of shacks, hovels, and run-down residences, fires were being lit, despite the ambient warmth of late spring. The larval Chandara handed their essence to their Kelanni hosts and then went to sleep. As the heat intensified, their bodies were transformed into a growing mass of white fibres.

  Kelanni set soups, stews, or whatever meagre fare they had to boil, just as they had been instructed, placing the pots, kettles, and urns before the cocoons like offerings.

  Farilla, the girl with long, straight, dark hair, held little Massie in her arms. The toddler rubbed her eyes, determined to stay awake so as not to miss anything.

  Then they saw the first one.

  White wings rose above the rooftops, beating soundlessly. They quickened, as if newly discovering the thrill of flight, before powering away.

  “What is it?” Massie asked.

  Farilla whispered in her ear. “You remembered the plant you found—the one that grew into Boxx here? That is another one.”

  “Did Plantey have a baby?”

  Farilla gave her an awkward smile. “More like... a cousin, maybe.”

  “There goes another,” Corin pointed.

  Massie’s eyes widened again as another vision in white lifted into the air.

  “Incredible,” Miron breathed.

  “Yes, it is,” Keris agreed.

  “And in return for our help, the Chandara have agreed to fly your people to the keep.”

  She glanced at Boxx, but the creature’s soft, glittering eyes were giving nothing away.

  Would the Chandara be motivated to help the Kelanni because the Kelanni had saved them? When it came to returning a favour, she had no idea whether they even understood the concept. Besides, it was Kelanni who destroyed their beloved Great Tree in the first place. In truth, they did not have much to be grateful for.

  Yet strangely, the Chandara here seemed more concerned about the disaster that had taken place more than thirty turns ago in the Forest of Atarah, beyond the Great Barrier. It was the presence of McCann within the party that disturbed them the most. The Destroyer Walks Among You. She might be forced to remedy that situation, with or without Shann’s approval.

  “Is there anything more you need of us, my Lady?” Miron asked.

  “Yes. First thing tomorrow morning I will set off for Chalimar to meet the others. I want you to gather as many of the Fourth Circle as are willing and able and make your way to the city centre to begin evacuating those within the vicinity of the keep. You will have to do it quietly, so as not to arouse the suspicion of soldiers or Keltar. Do you have access to any refined lodestone?”

  “Unauthorised transport or sale of the holy metal is strictly forbidden by order of the Prophet,” he recited.

  Her patience stretched. “That’s not what I asked.”

  He smiled the smile of one who had been saving the best till last. “Well, I might know some people who know some other people. How much do you need?”

  “Not me. You. I need you to use it to detect and then discreetly mark out the areas of transformed lodestone beneath the keep. A dozen small pieces should suffice. But make sure no one sees what you are doing.”

  “It will be done.” Miron gazed upward, as if addressing the heavens. “It is said that you intend to bring down the keep itself.”

  “That’s the general idea, yes.”

  “None but the Heroine could accomplish such a feat.”

  Was he serious? She decided to let it ride. “The truth is I am going to need a fair amount of help. A lot of people are going to have to play their parts.”

  More and more of the Chandara were transforming. They spread their wings and took to the air, wheeling together in the skies above the town.

  Her eyes were drawn to Boxx. The Chandara’s beak was a subtle shade of pink; her eyes, multifaceted gems set amid pure-white down; her wings tipped with iridescent flames.

  As the creature turned towards her, Keris saw in her mind’s eye the grey unmoving shells, the round bodies half covered with leafy shrouds.

  Forgive us.

  Boxx’s voice carried a note of sadness. “Farewell.”

  Before Keris could answer, the Chandara spread her wings and lifted into the air. The children gasped. Peira and Miron held one another.

  Slowly, Boxx pulled away, rising higher and higher to join her transformed kin as they circled far above. Songs of joy resonated amid the heavens. Finally, the adult Chandara began striking west towards Illaryon, their forest home.

  “Is Plantey coming back?” little Massie asked.

  Keris wished she had an answer for her.

  ~

  The three suns blazed high in the sky when Keris arrived at the rebel camp near Chalimar. She alighted near the perimeter, the flying cloak settling about her shoulders. Disguised as a trader caravan to allay suspicion, it consisted of a ragtag collection of carts and wagons arranged in a rough circle. A tethered graylesh raised its pointed head and sniffed the air as she strode past a dray and entered the central area.

  Off to one side, next to a blazing fire, a makeshift forge had been set up. The air rang with hammer blows as a gang of smiths beat the slag into flat sheets. She spotted Alondo talking to Rael, Grackas shouting something to a couple of his troops now dressed as ordinary folk, and Patris standing off to one side, observing the proceedings, but there was no sign of the people she needed to see. She selected Alondo and Rael and headed straight for them.

  Alondo broke off and smiled as she approached. “Hey, Keris. You made it.” The smile faded. “Where’s Boxx?”

  Keris brushed off the question. “Shann and McCann. Where are they?”

  He flicked his head.

  She spun around and saw Shann approaching with McCann some distance behind. The diminutive girl looked older, careworn—as if the weight of a world were on her shoulders. “Thank the Three you’ve come. Preparations are nearly complete. What about the Chandara? When are they getting here?”

  “I don’t know,” Keris growled.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “I don’t know. They may not be coming at all.”

  “Why?” Shann spluttered. “What happened?”

  Keris stretched forth an arm and pointed firmly over Shann’s shoulder. “Ask him.”

  McCann stopped in mid-stride as if he had been struck by a missile. “Why is everyone looking at me?”

  Keris took a step forward. “This hu-man has been lying to us all along.”

  “Excuse me?” McCann said.

  “You were involved in the destruction of the Forest of Atarah,” Keris declared. “Don’t deny it. I saw you with my own eyes.”

  “You saw him?” Shann queried. “How—”

  “The Chandara gave me the memory.”

  McCann’s fingers ploughed the furrow of deep ridges on his brow. “You must mean the forest on the other side of the planet?”

  Shann faced McCann. “Do you deny this?”

  “No... by no means.”

  Keris spread her arms wide. “There. You see?”

  McCann’s eyes refocused. “Look. I didn’t lie to you. But I didn’t give you my blinking life history either. There are a lot of things I did under the Captain’s orders that I’m not proud of.” He returned Keris’s accusing finger. “You were Keltar. You know what I’m talking about.”

  The missile struck Keris. She felt suddenly impotent, angry with herself and with him.

  Rael stepped in, the voice of reason. “Why did you do it?”

  McCann’s shoulders stooped under the burden of the memory. “After we lost the war, the Captain decided that the only way to get control of the lodestone was to wipe out the Kelanni.

  “His first idea was to use a bacterial toxin—one that could destroy all living things over a wide area. We chose a forested area to test it— one with some low-level life forms we figured no one would miss. We knew nothing about the Chandara, alt
hough if we had, I’m not sure it would have made any difference.

  “Anyhow, the results were less than satisfactory. Dispersal was too random—too dependent on wind and other factors. And the survival rate was too high. Not long after that, it was discovered that lodestone in a gaseous state could be combined with ordinary matter to achieve a rise in temperature that was theoretically without bound, and the Accumulator Device was born. Work on the toxin was discontinued at that point.”

  “Great,” Patris said. “So where does that leave us?”

  Shann shook her head. “We have no way of reaching the keep without the help of the Chandara. It will give the Keltar a distinct advantage. We will have to fend them off from the ground.”

  McCann spoke into the silence. “What if I give myself up?”

  “What?” Keris exclaimed.

  “What if I offer to give myself up? Submit to whatever judgment they have in mind, in return for their assistance?”

  “You would do that?” Shann said.

  “Sure. Why not? Anyway, it might not be death. They might just have me sewing mailbags for the next thirty years.”

  “Sewing what?” Alondo quizzed.

  “Mailbags... never mind. The point is, I did what I did under orders, but that doesn’t make it right. We destroyed intelligent life, not to mention their ecosystem. Someone should pay for that, and it might as well be me. I was as guilty as anyone.”

  Contrition. It was the last thing Keris had expected. She had been ready to drag him off by his heels if necessary. Now she felt as if the wind had been taken out of her sails.

  “It would mean travelling back to Illaryon,” Alondo pointed out.

  “Whilst we wait here?” Patris added. “That would be taking a huge risk. Evacuation of the area around the keep is already underway. The longer we sit around, the greater the likelihood that our cause will be discovered.”

  Keris’s gaze fell on each of them in turn. Worry and determination fought for control of their little group. “Remain here, all of you. I must deliberate with Shann.”

 

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