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

by Mark Whiteway

  “Preparations are complete,” he began. “The houses near the tower have been evacuated. We have also marked out the areas of transformed lodestone, just as you asked.”

  “What about the soldiers?” Shann asked.

  “We encountered a few,” he acknowledged. “Suffice it to say they won’t be giving either of us any trouble tonight.”

  Keris nodded. “There do not seem to be even the regular patrols. I expected to have to talk our way past a couple of them at least.”

  “Most have sought refuge in the keep,” he replied. “It seems there’s a persistent rumour going around that a dangerous group of insurgents has taken to prowling the city by night.”

  Keris responded with a wry smile. “Now I wonder who could have started that?”

  “The very best rumours are those that have a basis in fact,” he observed. “I must also inform you that your fears concerning Sakara appear to be well founded. The soldiers that we... chatted with confirmed that the forces formerly occupying the Free Port have now returned to Chalimar, and a massive celebration at the keep is planned for tomorrow night. The Keltar have boasted that Sakara’s destruction is imminent.”

  “Then there is no time to waste,” Shann declared.

  “The Fourth Circle remains at your disposal.”

  “Thank you, Miron,” Keris said. “But you have done your job. Now we must do ours. Please ensure that your people are well clear of the city centre.”

  His eyes began to mist. “What of you, my Lady?”

  “Me?”

  “I trust the Chandara will bear you away from the keep before it falls.”

  “The Chandara will not be joining us,” Keris said, flatly.

  A bemused expression passed over his face. “Then what, may I ask, are those?”

  The two women tracked his gaze, turned, and gasped. A huge flock of Chandara filled the sky above the city, wings silently beating the night air.

  Ragged cheering broke out along the column of assorted wagons, carts, and drays, quickly doused by warning hushes.

  “I don’t understand,” Shann said in wonder. “McCann failed to return before the flower bloomed. How—?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Keris cut her off. “None of that matters now.”

  They came in like hope, like petals on the wind, dreaming summer.

  <><><><><>

  Chapter 49

  Wings beating steadily, the blood-white Chandara bore their green-tailed riders high above the rooftops.

  Ahead of them, the fortress brooded on a foundation of solid rock, gouged from the city’s heart and made to float in the palm of a giant, invisible hand. Burning yellow pinpricks studded its foreboding grey walls. Jagged towers, chisel-bladed and spike-toothed, grazed the ruddy clouds.

  Shot through with fear and exhilaration, Shann watched the keep grow until it blotted out the sky. She rode at the head. Behind her, Alondo, Rael, and Patris clung to their respective mounts, along with a score of Grackas’s hand-picked troops. Far away on the other side of the mountain-like structure, a similar party was making for the southern entrance, led by Keris along with Boxx and the hu-man, McCann.

  She had no idea how many soldiers and Keltar were sequestered within. Both of the attacking groups would be severely outnumbered; that much was certain. However, if all went to plan, then it wouldn’t matter. They did not have to overrun the keep. All they needed to do was to bottle up both exits until the slag was in place and then use the Chandara to make good their escape. At least, that was how Keris envisaged it.

  Shann, however, had an additional objective—one that she had purposely not revealed to the other woman. She was going to get Lyall out, no matter what it took.

  She was close enough now to see the entrance. A stone platform jutted out from the keep’s base, leading to wide-open double iron gates and a flat area beyond that had once been the mustering yard. A wafer-thin guard of four soldiers rubbed sleep-starved eyes before scrambling to shut the gates in a futile attempt to keep out the would-be intruders.

  The Chandara sailed blithely over the barrier and swooped down on them like perridons seeking their prey. The guards turned tail and fled into the depths of the fortress.

  Shann’s mount alighted in the middle of the yard, followed by the rest of its brethren. They stomped, ruffled their wings, and discharged their riders. So far, so good.

  She blipped her neck control. The push from the transformed lodestone in the keep’s base was strong and steady, promising nearly total freedom of movement in the air. She recalled the aerial ballet she had performed alone on the lodestone roof platform of the vacuum hole tower in the Cathgorns. Unfortunately, any Keltar she encountered would have the same advantage.

  Spiteful gusts ruffled her hair as she went to the ledge and stared at the view far below. A myriad of tiny roads and houses, workshops and inns, warehouses and stables—all of the paraphernalia of a great city—jammed into her field of vision.

  The sound of tramping feet dragged her gaze back to the yard. Grackas’s well-drilled troops had already drawn up in formation. The others were gathering around her.

  Rael’s bony shoulders filled the red cloak like a clothes hanger. His downturned mouth was a hook, and he held the staff as if it were an unpleasant object that had gotten stuck to his hand. Patris’s hawkish eyes were everywhere, seeking enemies. He seemed to be weapon-less, but Shann knew better. Alondo appeared pensive beneath his enduring red cap, the vortex arm slung over his shoulder.

  “The entrance is secure for now,” she announced. “However, the guard will no doubt be returning at any moment. And they will bring reinforcements. We must be prepared.” She turned her attention to Grackas. “I want you to open the gate and have two of your men ride the platform to the ground.”

  The broad-shouldered man dwarfed her. “And then what?”

  “And then I want them to destroy it.”

  Grackas raised an eyebrow. “I was not aware that was a part of Keris’s plan.”

  “It is essential to the success of the mission.” She studiously avoided saying which mission.

  “The platform is the defenders’ only means of escape,” Grackas pointed out.

  “Not so,” Shann said. “If they capitulate, we can call on the Chandara to help get them away.”

  It was a tipping point—the first real test of her authority. The troops seconded to Keris would follow their ‘Heroine’ into a fiery pit if called on to do so, but Shann’s position was a good deal more ambiguous. She was acknowledged as the leader of her little party, but the detachment was loyal to its commander and there was nobody to say that he was obliged to take her orders. Theirs was a loose coalition at best.

  He looked her up and down as if appraising a raw recruit. She felt her flesh crawl. Then he turned away. “Open the gates.” The soldiers broke formation and scrambled to obey.

  Shann let out the breath she had been holding. The gates creaked open once more and she strolled through, stepping onto the aerial platform.

  It was nothing more than a flat circle of cut stone, open to the sky with no guard rail and a single raised column at the centre. A quick test informed her as to which control corresponded to which layer. The two volunteers joined her on the platform and stood at loose attention.

  “This is lower lodestone,” she informed them. “Ignore the others. Just pull this back slowly. When you reach the ground, destroy the control mechanism. Any questions?”

  One of the soldiers—a thick set individual with piercing eyes—took a step forward. “Why not just push the lever all the way over and let the thing plummet to the ground on its own? It should smash on impact.”

  Because no one knows I’m doing this and I don’t want anyone to be caught underneath it when it falls. “We have to be certain that the platform has been put out of action.”

  It was weak, but the man merely shrugged and took his station at the control column. She rejoined the main body of Grackas’s men, who promptly released
the three large mooring clamps. The platform drifted slightly and then began to descend with its two occupants.

  She watched as it steadily grew smaller, merging with the cityscape. Somewhere far below, the remainder of Grackas’s troops, along with Leskin’s tributes, were dragging hastily hammered sheets of slag over the pockets of transformed lodestone, weakening the unseen arms that held the keep aloft. She did not have much time.

  Angry shouts dragged her back from the sheer drop. The reinforcements had arrived.

  Grackas’s men had formed into a defensive wedge, bristling swords, pikes, and polearms. Facing them, an unnumbered press of leather-clad soldiers filled the entranceway. Among them, she spotted three Keltar. Her intention had been to try to negotiate an early surrender. However, this group did not seem in the mood to negotiate.

  The Chandara shook their wings and heads in apparent consternation but stayed grounded. Of course, if the soldiers from the keep broke through their lines, then that could change.

  Keris, what would you do in this situation? To her great surprise, the answer came almost immediately. Eliminate the Keltar. Easier said than done. If you discounted Rael, who was possessed of little or no skill, she was the lone bearer of cloak and staff. Even with the enhancements afforded her by the red cloak, it was still three against one.

  Grackas urged his men forward in an attempt to push the soldiers of the keep back. On the face of it, the tactic was sound; the opening could accommodate no more than five or six abreast, limiting the number that could attack his phalanx directly. However, the entryway was high and if the Keltar leaped over their heads...

  The yard resounded with the grunts of the combatants and the clash of wood and metal. Alondo and Patris stood their ground. Rael surged forward impetuously to join the melee. She grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back. “Stay behind me.” He rounded on her, his face a mask of resentment. “Our job is to protect the rear and the Chandara,” she added.

  The boy appeared mollified and stepped back, arms and legs posed in a most ungainly fashion. She was already regretting her weakness in allowing him to accompany her. Simply keeping him alive was going to be a challenge.

  All of a sudden, a dark flash shot over the heads of the embattled soldiers. A black-cloaked figure twisted in the air, making straight for her and Rael. Her initial impulse was to leap away to avoid the downthrust, but that would leave Rael and the others exposed. Instead, she held Saccath’s staff out before her in a classic defensive pose.

  The Keltar swept down, staff outstretched. Her tendons knotted. At the last moment she shoved the other’s weapon aside with all her strength. A burning sensation erupted in her side as the diamond blade grazed her midriff and she was knocked sideways. As she rolled onto her back, a face appeared over her—loose shock of hair, eyes wide with concern, red cloak draped about his shoulders. Rael.

  “You’re hurt,” he said.

  Her fingers went to her side and came away wet and stained with white blood. No time for that now. She pushed up on her elbows just in time to see a shadow rise up behind him.

  “Out of my way.” She got her feet under her and shoved him aside a little too roughly.

  Her assailant stood with bent limbs and a crooked smile set in a pinched face. A second cloaked figure alighted behind him. At the entrance, Grackas barked orders with ever more stridency as the cry and clash of battle intensified. She could see no sign of the third Keltar.

  “Is this it?” Pinch-face taunted. “Did you seriously think to take the keep with so few?”

  So long as they believed this to be a straightforward assault on the fortress, they would not be looking down, which meant that the teams on the ground could continue their work unmolested. She and the others were buying them precious time.

  “‘They will prevail whose cause is just,’” she recited.

  He threw back his head and laughed like a corpse being dragged over rocks. “You see, Cavan. They even quote the sacred verses. Full of arrogance and self-righteousness, this rebel faction. It’ll be the death of them.”

  He roared once more, his younger fresh-faced companion joining in; then he held up a hand and cut laughter’s throat. “Time to end this.”

  Reaching into a pouch, he withdrew a small silver sphere and gave it a half-twist. Lodestone grenade. It started to emanate a low hum which rose steadily in pitch. Smirking, he tossed it straight at her.

  “Take cover!” she yelled. Her fingers went to her neck control and she shot into the air without pausing to see whether Rael had obeyed her or not.

  The blinding flash caught the periphery of her vision, and the detonation slammed against her eardrums. She twisted for a better view.

  Panicked Chandara flapped frantically, some of them taking to the air. Alondo and Patris had retreated, and Rael was lying on his back.

  Pinch-face launched himself skyward, making straight for her. Cavan, the younger Keltar, advanced on Rael. Her heart clenched, but she was in no position to help him. As her ascent slowed, her assailant rose to meet her, readying himself for an upward strike. Time for your little surprise.

  She waited until he was almost on her and then snapped the boost control on full. Her shoulder harness did its best to drag her shoulder bones out of their sockets as she instantly shot higher.

  She caught a flash of wide-eyed disbelief as her opponent thrust his staff at empty air and flailed past her, fighting to recover his balance. As he fell in disarray, she cut the boost, withdrew her lower lodestone layer, and extended her upper. Lodestone pushed bronze and bronze pulled lodestone, accelerating her descent, as she chased him down.

  Rael was on his feet and fending off the other Keltar somehow. The Chandara milled around like frightened children. She could not see either Alondo or Patris.

  As the yard came up to meet her, the clamour and confusion of battle filled her ears once more. It was impossible to tell who was gaining the upper hand. At the last moment, she extended lower lodestone to act as a brake and swung her staff. The diamond blade raked across his back, slicing through his black cloak and exposing part of the mechanism. He stumbled forward onto hands and knees.

  Her boots hit the dirt and she advanced towards him, ignoring the dull ache in her side.

  He arose, swaying slightly.

  “Tell your soldiers to stand down, and I will let you leave peacefully.”

  He bared his teeth. “I don’t know how you managed to pull a stunt like that, but you’ll pay.”

  Flaring the tattered remnants of his cloak, he vaulted into the air once more. In spite of the damage, the cloak’s operation seemed unimpaired.

  She shot a glance in Rael’s direction. The boy wielded his staff like a crazed field hand. Fortunately, the Keltar facing him was scarcely older than he was and did not seem to be able to figure out how to get inside his superior reach. She spotted Patris’s lithe form moving in on them, fast and low. If Rael could just keep him occupied for a few moments more...

  No time to wait to see the outcome. She extended bronze, then lower lodestone and hit the boost control. Springing upward, she angled away from Pinch-face, seeking greater height. Immediately, he altered his trajectory to cut off her ascent. Clearly, he was not about to be fooled by the same trick twice.

  They clashed high above the field of battle, darkwood cracking like claps of thunder.

  She parried a blow aimed at her head, twisting his staff aside, and countered with a lunge at his midriff. He dodged the thrust, pirouetting and making a low sweeping pass. She brought her knees up and extended upper lodestone, intending to hover on the resulting balance of forces. To her great surprise, she continued turning under her own momentum and somersaulted in mid-air. When she righted herself she saw that he was starting to fall back under the effects of gravity.

  On impulse, she shifted her grip to one end of her staff and sliced at the sinking figure. The diamond blade raked across his back once more, tearing cloth, scoring metal, and shattering stone. The cloak me
chanism folded, and he plummeted like a black star hurled from its orbit.

  Gradually she dialled back upper and lower lodestone and sank to the ground. Pinch-face was lying face down. The boy called Cavan was also motionless on the floor. Patris leant over him, no sign of a weapon in his hand. Rael’s hands rested on his knees and he was breathing heavily. He looked exhausted.

  Her side still hurt, but she had no time to seek the Chandara’s ministrations. Something nagged at the back of her mind—something important. At first she thought it was the heightened state of her adrenaline-fuelled brain. Then it flashed in the corner of her eye, like a deadly tap on the shoulder. The third Keltar.

  She spun around, too late, as the dark shape blotted out her vision, then shot away at right angles as if knocked aside by a giant hand. The cloaked figure cartwheeled through the open gates and disappeared over the ledge.

  She turned back to see Alondo standing firmly with the vortex arm at the ready. “See, I told you my skills would come in handy.”

  “Couldn’t you have used that thing a little earlier?” she complained.

  “I have to make sure it’s tuned right,” he said, affronted.

  She couldn’t decide whether he was joking or not. In any case, right now there were more pressing concerns. Several of Grackas’s men were down, and the line was fracturing. The soldiers from the keep looked as if they might break through at any moment. She had to get their attention. A wild idea came to her.

  She bent her knees once more and leaped up and over the heart of the melee. A small but insistent voice sounded in her head. What if this doesn’t work—what then? She had no answers.

  Reaching the apex, she extended upper lodestone and tweaked the controls until she was floating some distance over the heads of the soldiers. She had no idea how long she would be able to hold this configuration.

  “Hear me.” The noise of battle continued unabated. She spread her arms. “Hear me.” Weapons disengaged and upturned faces gazed at her. Eyes widened. Jaws dropped. Hands scratched heads. “Your Keltar are gone. Defeated. As we speak, the forces holding up this keep are being undermined. Soon it will fall. The platform has already been destroyed. Your only means of escape is the Chandara. You may stay here and perish along with your Prophet, the Unan-Chinneroth. Or you can relinquish your weapons now and we will transport you safely to the ground.” Feet shuffled in the silence. She began sinking lower and did her best to correct the drift. “What is it to be?”