Stained Glass Monsters

by Andrea Höst

  His voice was loud, and certain enough to get the attention of the scrabble of people trying to claw their way through the shielded door. The shrieking dropped to a panicky babble, and the lone teacher who had been herded in with them made shushing noises, but Kendall wasn't alone in looking worriedly at Rennyn Montjuste-Surclere, who was still sitting at the next desk down, her chin propped on one hand and her eyes half-closed. Almost as if she was bored, but Kendall was near enough to see the set of her jaw, and knew that keeping the shield up couldn't be nearly so easy as she made it seem.

  As the Thing outside sent bits of wall and ceiling flying, Rennyn Montjuste-Surclere turned her head and said: "Prince Justin, will you perform an experiment for me?"

  The prince hadn't moved, was holding his sobbing sister tightly. His voice was unsteady as he said: "What is it?"

  "Go stand at the other end of the room."

  The prince stared blankly, then went even whiter than he'd already managed. But, still holding Princess Sera, he struggled to his feet and walked swiftly along the centre aisle between the desks to the far wall, close to the clutch of people pressed against the doorway. Immediately the monster stopped pounding at the shield by Kendall and, with a writhe of tree-trunk tentacles and a skittering of long legs, went after Tyrland's heir.

  "I don't recognise the type," Rennyn Montjuste-Surclere said over the renewed shrieking, not pursuing the subject of the monster's target.

  "Not one that's been classified," said the Sentene mage. He and his partner gathered the two Montjustes back from the far end of the room, their attention never straying from the Thing which was now making a show of destroying the roof.

  "What happens if it pulls the whole building down around us?" Kendall whispered to Sebastian, but he didn't reply, busy writing in chalk on one of the tables.

  "The shield is anchored to the point where the sigils were," Sukata answered instead. "It doesn't matter if the surface they were written on is gone."

  It would matter when the shield went away, Kendall thought, and grimaced as the Thing crawled down the wall behind them. When it pulled apart the stone, the chalkboard and a fine shaving of wall fell on the inside of the shield as well. Shifting most of its bulk into the room next to them, the monster began pounding on the shield with its tentacles and legs. It was an eerily unreal attack despite the noise and the light which bloomed around each blow. Kendall could barely feel the impacts. The shield seemed immovable. The 'inside' of all the walls fell off, as well as the part of the door projecting into the room, but it was because the building had shuddered and shifted around the box which was keeping them safe.

  How long would the shield last? Everyone said Rennyn Montjuste-Surclere was an incredibly powerful mage, but this Thing was so strong. It was demolishing the Arkathan as easily as kicking over a bucket of milk. A single blow would squash a man like a roach.

  With a screaming sizzle bolts of white arched up from outside and slammed into the nearest tentacle. The monster flinched and bucked, destroying most of the floor in both rooms. It fell into the room below as another series of bolts punched into it.

  "Thank the Dawnbringer," breathed one of the royal guardsmen, as the monster reoriented in the wreckage to face a row of black-clad figures standing on the far side of the Reading Garden, the Montjuste Phoenix shining.

  "It's not damaged," pointed out another, dismayed. This was true. The bolts had obviously hurt, but the thick tentacle wasn't a bit crisped.

  "Some Eferum-Get are resistant to magic," the Sentene mage explained, and Kendall noticed that he stood just a little straighter. He'd been worried too, though he hadn't been showing it.

  Rennyn Montjuste-Surclere bent her head back and looked directly up. Kendall followed her gaze and saw golden men and women. Kellian, blazing in the sunlight, standing on the exposed shield. One glanced down at them, and she recognised Captain Faille as he gave the signal to attack.

  For people who always seemed so still, Kellian could move beyond fast. Almost, it was as if they had gone from roof to grass with no part in between. But, like a lantern swung at night, they left a little trail of light to show the path taken. They'd jumped down onto the monster, and made a bunch of cuts on its tentacles before leaping out of its reach.

  The Thing let out a gurgling roar and writhed after them, but though it was faster than you'd expect for something so large, its blows only succeeded in creating deep dints in the ground and earned it a few more slashes. Its blood was treacle-brown. In another moment it was surrounded, and was being cut at from every side. Kellian wasps, stinging, always moving.

  Just when Kendall was about to let her breath out in relief, the Thing changed tactics, charging toward the dining halls. It brought down one of the trees in the process and, picking it up, hurled it at its pursuers. Kellian scattered to all sides, and the tree slammed into the Arkathan as the monster scuttled straight at the Sentene mages.

  A streak of golden light resolved into Captain Faille, running right between the tentacles and jumping up onto the blue-tinted shell. He thrust his sword beneath the ridge protecting the Thing's eyes, then leapt away as a tentacle swiped at him like a fly on a horse. The monster turned for another charge.

  A rock fell from the sky. More than fell – it hurtled down like someone had shot it from a cannon. The crack it made as it struck the monster's shell was sharp enough to hurt Kendall's ears, and the Thing staggered. The next stone went straight through one of its legs and made a black hole in the ground.

  "They're throwing bits of the Arkathan at it!" exclaimed one of the students, and a cheer went up as a third stone was followed by a positive rain of broken bits of wall. While the Kellian had been keeping it busy, the Sentene mages had cast a spell which lifted pieces of the destroyed rooms high into the air and smashingly returned them. Even the monster's thick shell couldn't stand up to this, and it was rapidly reduced to a pulpy mass which the Kellian went and poked swords into until it stopped twitching.

  "One day you too will be able to throw rocks," Rennyn Montjuste-Surclere said to Kendall, and stood up. Everyone in the room suddenly rose a foot in the air, and before they'd had a chance to do more than gasp, the shield went away and the desks fell through the holes in the floor while all the people floated to the ground outside.

  Kendall wondered if this was the spell Sebastian had been casting. It felt rather more like his sister had just picked them all up. She turned and stared back at the Arkathan, at the hole in the side of the building. This from only one Night Roamer.

  "They said there were hundreds of monsters during the Black Night," she said, amazed. "How in the Hells did you kill them all?"

  "I didn't kill any of them," Rennyn Montjuste-Surclere said matter-of-factly, watching a handful of Sentene approach. "Besides, this was something rather special."

  "A new type," said one of the approaching Sentene, an older version of Sukata. This must be Captain Illuma.

  The group stopped before Prince Justin and bowed very formally, which was an eerie thing when most of them had yellow disks for eyes and sunshine hair. "Your Highness," Captain Illuma continued, "it would be best if you returned to the main palace."

  "Do you believe there are more on the loose, Captain?" the prince asked, sounding calmer than he looked.

  "None that we can divine, but if Eferum-Get are now able to guise themselves, a physical sweep will be necessary."

  Princess Sera, all eyes and no mischief now, wriggled loose from her brother's arms. "You must come with us!"

  "You will be escorted, of course, Highness," Captain Illuma replied, without missing a beat. "And the circles and defensive spells around the throne room are the strongest in Tyrland. A creature such as this could not overcome them."

  The princess didn't put up any more argument, once she saw that four of the Sentene would go with her. Kendall was disappointed to be herded off with the rest of the students. She had particularly wanted to hear the discussion the Sentene would surely move on to once the
ir audience was gone: just how had the Night Roamer been able to find, in the mish-mash of the palace, the boy who happened to be heir of all Tyrland?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rennyn lay watching Seb making notes as he read. He never remembered he was holding a quill, and had managed to draw a delicate squiggle from the corner of his mouth down past his chin. Each year he grew more like their father: as soon as he was caught up in something he found it hard to focus on anything else. The shadows under his eyes had already told her that he was burying himself far too deeply in the Houses of Magic's library, but it was hard to lecture him when she'd had to borrow his bed for a few hours to balance a night without sleep and some unexpected shield-casting.

  "So why the lessons?"

  Seb started, then smiled over at her, shrugging. "Kendall. I wanted to see how much she took in. And I'm trying to make her see what she's missing."

  "How do you mean?"

  "She went from nothing to the beginnings of using Thought in a few days. Her memory's almost as good as yours – she really is memorising those dictionaries they gave her, without any context. She has enough willpower for two, and the questions she asks are sharp, well-observed. But she never sees magic as anything but a means to an end. Can she really have that much potential, and absolutely no feel for it?"

  "The world's full of rote mages, Seb."

  "It's just such a waste." He dropped his quill into a stained cup and crossed to the door, smudging a line on a pattern of chalk symbols already drawn there, then putting power into it. A muffling spell.

  "So what's been happening?" Rennyn asked when he finished casting.

  "Eh, they don't exactly come and report to me. Nothing else has tried to eat anyone."

  "Do you know how many–?"

  "Eight, and a few injuries."

  Rennyn sighed. "I keep asking how many people died, but it's just numbers. I feel like I should find out their names, try and–"

  "What? Apologise?" Seb thrust out his chin. "We're not the ones responsible for this, Ren. We're trying to fix it, yes, but we're not–" He broke off, grimacing.

  "Not as bad? Not the ones killing people?" Rennyn sighed and sat up, combing fingers through her hair to sort out the tangles. "Ignore me. I'm still tired, and I don't like how this is playing out. There's too many things we didn't plan for."

  "How do you think the prince was being tracked?"

  "Hm. Why bother seems more relevant to me, but I suppose it could simply be a message, a demonstration. To do it – the link between Solace and the Montjuste bloodline is a lot weaker than the one she has to us, and the Queen has more than enough relatives to confuse any casting. Either our Wicked Uncle has found a way to track a person without any real knowledge or connection to the target, or someone's stolen the prince's hairbrush. The Hand are pursuing the theory of a conspiracy targeting us, of course, but that investigation hasn't been getting anywhere. Divinations aren't much use for events that happened so long ago." She glanced at the door, wondering which Kellian was on duty, and whether Seb's spell was successfully keeping their conversation private.

  Seb followed her gaze. "They're really keen for you to stay here. Lieutenant Danress asked me if I could convince you, to stress what might happen if one of those things attacked when you were too far away for the Sentene to reach you."

  Rennyn snorted. "Fel knows, I would rather have thrown rocks at the thing than sit behind a shield. Today's little drama makes me want to move you out of here, not the other way around."

  "I figured. They just want to – do you know what Kendall said to me this morning?"

  "I'm sure you're going to tell me." Rennyn considered her brother curiously. The girl from Falk seemed to be figuring very large in his life.

  "She shares a room with Sukata Illuma. She said Sukata behaves differently around me than she does with anyone else."

  "That's hardly surprising, Seb."

  "You don't think–?"

  "I think it's hardly surprising," Rennyn repeated firmly. "I haven't been able to work out whether they actively dislike the fact that we've turned up, but the Kellian would have to feel very ambivalent about us, at best. Even ignoring the fact that Solace created them, the purpose, the whole reason for existence of the originals was to protect the Montjuste-Surcleres. And Tiandel abandoned them. Wouldn't you resent us, in their position?"

  "They don't." Seb was quite certain. "You've seen that, haven't you?"

  It took time to decide her answer. "It's rare that they're ever anything but totally correct around me. I know my refusal to stay here frustrates them. They don't think I'm being sensible, but it's just as much that they want to...observe me, and – I don't know."

  "How would you feel if the reason for your existence showed up and wouldn't let you protect her?"

  Rennyn pulled a face, then sighed and hunted about for her boots. "I would be astonished if the Kellian considered you and I the reason for their existence. More a hangover from their past which complicates their present. Which reminds me, if you come through this alone, leave Tyrland – at least for a while."

  "Don't talk like that."

  "Hush. The politics surrounding us are apt to get sticky once we're no longer a critical factor in Tyrland's survival. So far as I can make out from the farce today, the Queen doesn't believe the Kellian conspire to anything, or that I have any legitimate claim to the throne. Yet she allows this public interrogation, a slap in the face to a group of people integral to this country's defence. Just to placate some Councillors who've been making a fuss? I wouldn't have believed her rule so tenuous."

  "How did you end up being called to Question? I couldn't believe it when I heard."

  "I volunteered for it. I was annoyed."

  He laughed. "Enjoy yourself?"

  "Not really. Some meaningless posturing." She finished tugging at the laces of her boots and stood up, glancing at Solace's focus but leaving it on Seb's desk. "Do you want to stay here? Or go back to the apartment?"

  "Don't you think that maybe, after all, it might be an idea for you to stay?"

  "I'd just have to leave again. But I guess that means you're staying, so you can do some research for me." She explained the kind of spell she was aiming for, and shrugged at his expression. "This uncle of ours is worse than revolting, and I don't want to find myself under another of his injunctions with no way out. I do want you to put some proper wards up on this room. I'll be back in two days."

  "Take care."

  It was early evening, and the Sentene's barracks were quiet. Rennyn glanced around and with some difficulty spotted Captain Faille sitting on the bottom step of a nearby stairwell, a small book balanced on his knee. Something to speed the time while waiting outside the rooms of sleeping mages. It must be fantastically boring for a Senior Captain to play bodyguard, and she wondered if he ever regretted the instincts which made him the safest person to use.

  Faille disposed of the book somewhere between Seb's room and the entrance of the barracks, and Rennyn found herself disappointed to have not caught a glimpse of the title. She didn't look back again until she was out of the palace gates, to check that he was trailing her as she had been previously followed. Without the Sentene cloak it always took a moment for her eyes to resolve him, even with the bright street lighting of the Palace District. She continued down Aliace Hill and was nearing Crossways when she looked for him a third time.

  "May I ask you a question, Captain?"

  His answer was the lengthen his stride until he walked at her side instead of ten steps behind.

  "What happened to the original Kellian after Tiandel ordered them out of Tyrland?"

  He didn't appear perturbed by the question. "For several years they lived directly over the border, among the wilder mountains of Vandaluse. Eventually the Vandalusians noticed their existence and hunted them, as invaders or mistaking them as Eferum-Get. Rather than fight, they crossed the Sands of Denara."

  The noise and bustle of Crossways overwhelmed
his thin voice and he stopped speaking as they walked into an evening reaching its highest pitch, with crowds lining up outside the playhouses, and taverns and food stalls doing a roaring trade. Rennyn ignored the strident demands of a stomach neglected since tea with the Grand Magister, and only gazed at the excited press. A remembrance ceremony had been held only that morning, and already the Black Night, as people were calling the incursion in Asentyr, might never have happened.

  "On the borders of Verisia they encountered a runaway bondswoman," Captain Faille continued, as they started along the main road of the Temple District toward the Docks. "Aurai Falcy. This woman became their Voice, and taught them to write. In her company they roamed for many years, and finally settled in the fringes of the Forest of Semarrak."

  Even Rennyn, whose geography outside of Tyrland was vague on account of being irrelevant, had heard of the Forest of Semarrak. It was inhabited by creatures which may once have been Eferum-Get, but were now far more complicated. The Kellian would probably pass as unremarkable there.

  The Temple of the Devourer loomed ahead, and Rennyn paused to look up into the shadows of its portico, then moved slowly on toward the Docks. It had been a very sparse account, the barest of facts. The attenuated voice had been detached but his attention, she was sure, had been divided between watching for attacks and keenly observing her reaction. She might not be able to guess how the Kellian felt about the reappearance of the Montjuste-Surclere family, but whenever she was with them there was this sense of observation that went beyond the business of bodyguards. In their place she'd be both resentful and wildly curious, and expected the Kellian were not so very different as to not feel those things.

  "Why did they have children?"

  The question bordered on rudeness, along with sounding very strange. Yet Rennyn knew in great detail how the original Kellian were devised, and how they had functioned before their exile. It was difficult to imagine them deciding to take lovers and raise families.