Fire & Ice

by Patty Jansen

  Carro stiffened, alert now.

  “You are familiar with the Outer City. No one will find it odd to see you wandering around the streets.”

  “So . . .” Carro swallowed. “You want me to get this boy, while some sort of stranger is also after him?”

  Rider Cornatan chuckled. “Of course I’m not going to let you go without help. Let me show you something else.” He walked to the table with the weapons in the other room.

  Carro followed him, his head reeling.

  * * *

  It’s cold in the lawkeeper’s office. The room is bare with just a bench along the wall. A tiny window lets in a meagre beam of bluish light.

  Carro sinks down on the bench. Cold and shame bites through his trousers. This is where criminals sit.

  Carro’s tears run across his cheeks like icicles.

  Isandor says, “Don’t worry.”

  It’s easy for him to say. Isandor’s mother comes to pick up her son. There is an officer with her.

  “The merchant has put in a complaint,” he says. “He wants compensation for goods broken.”

  Oh, why did they have to play with boomerangs so close to the market? Why did the boomerang have to hit the merchant’s sled full of glasswork?

  Isandor’s mother puts an arm around her son’s shoulder. Isandor looks up at her with his big blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  She says, “Don’t worry. I know things sometimes break when you play.” Her voice is warm. She smiles at the officer and the man smiles back. She’s radiant, glowing and pregnant, one of the city’s best breeders. “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement with the merchant.”

  They leave the room, their backs disappearing into the corridor.

  Carro’s parents won’t be so kind.

  No dinner, no oil for his lamp, and his books taken away from him; that is, if he escapes the whip.

  He waits. It’s cold in the room. The feeling inside him is even colder. No one is ever going to come for him. His parents are going to leave him here.

  * * *

  Rider Cornatan had turned around, giving Carro a concerned look. “Are you feeling ill?”

  Carro’s heart jumped a beat. “No, no, I’m fine.” He tried to push away lingering nausea from the smell of vomit and the hazy remains of the memory, and the realisation: the recurring memories were getting worse.

  How long before he had an accident while his mind was off somewhere else? How long before someone discovered and declared him unsuitable for service? Declared him insane?

  Rider Cornatan’s expression wasn’t convincing. “You looked out of sorts for a bit. Not an advocate of medical procedures?” He glanced back at the room with the chair, where the wall panel was just sliding shut again, and two Junior Knights were mopping the floor.

  “No, no. I’m fine.” A drop of sweat trickled down Carro’s back.

  “Good, then have a look at this.” Rider Cornatan gestured at the strange contraptions on the table.

  They were definitely weapons of some description. Eagle Knights used crossbows and poisoned arrows, or in close combat, swords or daggers. Carro reached out for the staff with the shining stone, but withdrew his hand, casting a glance at Rider Cornatan. Touching it wouldn’t be very humble. Stupid that he had even thought he could touch these weapons.

  Rider Cornatan laughed, his eyes gleaming with pleasure. “You like that, boy?”

  “Yes.” Carro hated how his voice sounded too innocent. His father always said boy and never used his name.

  “Take it.”

  Carro picked up the staff. The metal felt warm, almost alive, in his hands.

  “Try some blows.”

  Try blows? Where? Rider Cornatan didn’t expect to be sparring with him? He was an old man.

  “Stand over there.”

  Apprehensively, Carro went to stand where Rider Cornatan indicated, in the middle of the room. To his dismay, the Supreme Rider threw off his cloak and grabbed another staff off the table. While he strode across the room, the eerie light made his white hair almost green. He took up position opposite Carro, his legs apart, as if he were about to start a sword fight.

  Rider Cornatan ran his hand over the metal rod of the staff. There was a noise like lightning.

  Icefire! Rider Cornatan knew he couldn’t see it.

  “Yes, boy. That surprises you, doesn’t it? Thought we had forgotten that the curse that taints our land can be used in more ways than one?”

  He thrust out with the staff. A line of dust lifted from the floor.

  Carro cried out, turned and tried to run. What sort of defence did he have against icefire?

  “Use the staff!” Rider Cornatan’s voice grated like stone on stone.

  Carro grabbed the staff in both hands, but had no idea what to do with it. Dust now crackled all around him, making his nose itch. He swung the staff into thin air, like a blind man sword fighting.

  “That’s right. A good, honest Knight doesn’t run like a coward. A good Knight stands his ground and fights with whatever weapon he has.”

  “But it’s not fair . . .” Carro panted.

  “Warfare is rarely fair, boy. Yes, the enemy will use icefire. So now, we will also. Come on, show me what you’ve learned.” He swung the staff.

  Sweat pouring down his stomach, Carro gripped the staff in both hands. He adopted a fighting stance, legs apart, swaying from side to side.

  Rider Cornatan circled him. Slowly, watching with eagle eyes. The heels of his boots clacked on the stone floor. Carro’s skin pricked. He turned on the spot, as he’d been taught in sword fighting, always watching.

  Rider Cornatan chuckled.

  “I see you’ve been taught well.”

  And then he thrust up. Lightning crackled around Carro.

  Carro swung his staff. Too late. He didn’t know what he was doing. However was he supposed to fight invisible icefire with nothing more than a stick? Rider Cornatan thrust again. The air was thick with the scent of singed clothing.

  “Fight, fight,” Rider Cornatan urged and punctuated each word with a thrust of the staff. He laughed. Maybe this was Carro’s punishment.

  He thrust faster and faster. Dust swirled in the room. Carro whirled, swung his staff whichever way seemed right, but Rider Cornatan always went faster.

  Eventually, Carro could no longer keep it up. “This is ridiculous. I can’t see what I’m fighting!” He stopped, panting, embarrassed about his outburst. “I’m sorry. You win.”

  He hung his shoulders. Humility. Lost to an old man.

  Rider Cornatan laughed. “No. You win. Give me this.” He took the staff from Carro’s sweat-slicked hand. “Notice how the metal is cold?”

  It was. Ice-cold in fact.

  “You noticed how none of the rays hit you?”

  Carro blinked. He couldn’t see the rays, but hadn’t felt anything either, so he supposed it was true. The floor certainly bore plenty of marks.

  “That is because when you hold this weapon, it acts as a sink for icefire. When you’re holding this staff, instead of hitting the intended target, icefire is all absorbed in this staff.”

  Carro’s spirits deflated. “So . . . nothing would have happened to me even if I had not defended myself.”

  “Precisely.” A smile curled the old lips. “You are special, because of what you are. Pure Pirosians are rare. Cherish it, keep it a secret and use it well.”

  Carro tried hard to feel misused or suspicious, but he only succeeded partially. He was special. He was more than Carro, useless boy from the Outer City, who was only here because the Knights wanted to spy on the Outer City residents.

  “Apprentice Carro, we have a dire need of your talent. How would you like to be promoted?”

  “Promoted?” Carro swallowed. This was getting stranger and stranger.

  “The first Apprentice ever to skip straight to Learner? Your father would like that, wouldn’t he?”

  Carro flinched. What did Rider Cornatan know of his father? W
hat did he know of what his father thought about him? Did his father have a hand in this? Was that the catch?

  * * *

  The carpet is dark red and has a pattern of squares within squares that Carro knows all too well. He stands just inside the door, his hands behind his back, his gaze on the ground.

  His father gets up from the desk and walks across the office. Carro follows his father’s movement from the corner of his eye. Don’t go to the cupboard please, not the cupboard. He doesn’t think he can stand any more work in the warehouse on the accounting books, but he will not cry, or the boys will tease him, all those boys who were already teasing him in the streets. It will just get worse.

  His father opens the cupboard door. Takes a long time to select a big book. The stock-take records.

  Carro closes his eyes and tries not to show his despair. He shivers with the intense cold in the warehouse.

  He can feel the chill breeze as his father crosses to the rough table where he is sitting. The book lands on the table with a thud.

  “I want this done by tomorrow morning.”

  Carro just nods, his mind numb. He fights back tears of despair.

  His fingers will be blue and sore by the time the night is over. Then his reading tutor will hit him for not paying attention. Then his father will order the stove to be tempered, because the luxurious warmth is obviously putting his errant son to sleep.

  And then . . .

  * * *

  Carro wobbled. Oh, by the skylights, why was he seeing these things?

  Fortunately, Rider Cornatan hadn’t noticed the spell. He was putting the staff back on the table. When Carro moved to do the same, his hands trembling, Rider Cornatan put his hand on the metal. “Keep it. I’m allocating you two elite soldiers. Get the boy and come back here. The soldiers are waiting for you.”

  “What—now?”

  “Yes. Everyone is asleep or too drunk to notice. You should be able to take the boy on your bird. He’s only a child. Bring him back here as soon as you can. Report to me directly. Don’t tell anyone else.”

  Rider Cornatan turned to Carro and lifted up his chin with a single finger.

  “Go on, make your family proud.”

  “My family hates me, especially my father.”

  Rider Cornatan’s eyes met his, blue, intense. “I don’t know about the rest of your family, but I can assure you, Carro, your father loves you very much.”

  Chapter 14

  * * *

  THERE WERE MANY questions Carro should have asked, but his brain was so numb that he was out the door before he remembered any of them. It felt like it had all been a dream, except he had the staff in his hands and his Learner’s badge on his collar, and a fuzzy feeling in his head that told him that, yes, this was real, and if he wanted to come out of this alive, he had better obey orders. Someone was testing him, or teasing him, or using him as expendable bait, and all he could do was run along and hope he wasn’t going to get caught in something sticky.

  The two elite Knights waited at the end of the corridor that led to Rider Cornatan’s quarters, both sharp-faced silent men at least ten years older than Carro. He had never seen them before. Their eyes were hard, their gazes neither approving nor disapproving, but Carro was all too aware of their muscled arms and lean physiques. Bodyguards or child-minders?

  Their faces remained impassive.

  They started moving through the dark corridor in the direction Carro recognised as leading towards the howling staircase. At night, there was no wind to make the jagged edges howl, and they climbed its many steps in uncomfortable silence. The sky was dark blue, too light to show any but the brightest of stars. Pink and green skylights shimmered above.

  “You know where to find this Brotherhood compound?”

  Carro had grown so used to silence that the man’s voice startled him.

  “I do.” Carro explained the location on the far side of the Outer City. The men only listened. Evidently, they had been briefed on their mission.

  They reached the eyrie, where dark shapes of birds shuffled and fidgeted as they came in. One of the Knights flicked the light lever up. The bulb sprang into life with its too-bright glow. The eagles stirred. Heads lifted from under wings, baleful eyes blinked. Both men had their birds untied before Carro had even done up his harness. His fingers trembled. He was fumbling with the staff Rider Cornatan had given him, not sure how to carry it. He settled on lashing his belt around the glass head. The stick banged against his leg, a feeling that was clumsy and awkward.

  Carro untied his eagle. It hissed at him and flapped its wings, which made a few other eagles hiss and squawk.

  Clumsy, clumsy.

  At the opening, the two Knights mounted with fluid grace. Their birds stood ready, their eyes alert.

  How had Rider Cornatan ever thought he could match men like these? Normally, the Apprentices mounted their birds from a platform, but it had been taken away for the night. Carro put his foot in the harness trying to imitate the Knights. He heaved himself up and almost overbalanced. The eagle flapped with his sudden shift of weight. Carro salvaged the situation by grabbing the handholds at the top of the saddle with both hands. The reins slipped from his hands, but at least he didn’t fall.

  One of the Knights gave a quick flick with his eyebrows before he launched the eagle out. Carro clicked his tongue and the eagle followed the other bird out, hurtling into the cold air that stung his face like the cuts of a thousand knives.

  Carro was shivering, already struggling to hold onto the saddle.

  Most of the buildings in the city were dark. Lights burned in the odd window here or there, but most decent nobles and proper folk of the City of Glass had gone to bed. The rest were partying in the Outer City, an island of light on the plain dark blue with eternal dusk.

  Carro kneed his eagle into catching up with the others. The bird was unwilling and made no secret of its dislike at being woken up. The two Knights fell back and let him lead the way, over the festival grounds, mostly dark, over the market square, bathed in light and full of revellers, to the part of the Outer City furthest from the City of Glass. Here, Carro landed his eagle in a rough piece of land amongst warehouses. There used to be a warehouse at this plot of land, but it had burned down some years ago. He remembered the flames, which had been visible from his street. He had Isandor had climbed up the limpet roof to see the flames roaring into the sky. Now it was just an empty piece of land with mounds of snow and stone pillars which had once been the foundations of the building.

  There was nowhere to tie up the eagles, and it would probably be unwise to leave them behind anyway, so he dismounted and led the bird by the reins into the street. Eagles were not fond of walking and the bird kept jerking its head up. Carro almost lost his grip on the reins twice before he noticed how the two Knights had the leather straps wrapped around their wrists. They also kept the reins very tight, so their birds didn’t have the slack to get any force into the upward jerk. The Tutor didn’t teach that. Interesting. It worked, too.

  In silence, they progressed to the wall that was the back of the compound.

  Carro hadn’t expected guards at the gate, and indeed there were none. But now they couldn’t take the eagles any further and there was still nowhere to tie them up. Instead, the two Knights tied their birds onto each other. Their reins were interesting as well. His tack was the standard length of leather, fastened onto the harness on one end with a metal ring and looped back onto the harness on the other end. Their reins were two separate pieces of leather, each lashed around the rider’s wrist when in flight. They now tied one of these strips to each other, threading the knot through the reins of Carro’s eagle.

  Carro wanted to ask, but what about if we need them? He envisaged a tangle of feathers and wings as all three birds tried to take off at once and found they were attached to each other. But evidently, the Knights had considered this and had some sort of solution.

  Carro felt so dumb. I’m an Outer City pup, a
nd they’ll do their best to prove it with every step I take.

  The men took daggers from their belts. Carro untied the staff and unsheathed his dagger. He was unsure in which hand to hold which and his hands were too cold to do much with either weapon anyway.

  They walked in through the open gates. On the other side was a small courtyard surrounded on three sides by a low building with a columned façade, very unlike the regular building style in the Outer City. Carro knew from earlier visits that the door was somewhere in the darkness between those columns, although he couldn’t see it. This was the furthest he had ever gone into the compound, bringing a delivery from his father to the Brothers. Fabric for bed sheets, he seemed to remember.