The Sky Warden & the Sun (Books of the Change)

by Sean Williams

  He subsided, breathing heavily, as his father put a hand on his shoulder.

  No one said anything. The night was still, poised on a cusp Shilly could half-sense but still wasn’t quite sure she fully understood. Then:

  “Sky Warden Behenna.”

  The warden stepped forward at the mention of his name.

  “How do you respond to this? Why do you come to us to make this decision for the children?”

  “My response is simple.” His gaze roamed the circle and settled on her. They were bright, eager for a fight. “Shilly? I want to ask you a single question. Do you want to stay here? Tell us now so we can all hear. Are you convinced that that would be the right thing to do?”

  All attention turned to her. Her automatic response was to say yes because that was what Sal wanted, but the word wouldn’t come out. It didn’t feel right. The unexpected hesitation prompted a storm of emotions. What did she want? She hadn’t found the security she had wanted in the Interior, and she had been seriously hurt. She might not walk properly again, despite the Mage Erentaite’s ministrations. The Keep didn’t offer the right sort of education — as Van Haasteren had admitted and Tait had demonstrated — whereas Warden Behenna had offered her a teacher in the Strand and access to talent more suited to her nature. Was it really such a bad thought, to go home, where Lodo’s body lay waiting for her to rescue him? Was she convinced?

  Sal was watching her — she could feel it. But she couldn’t give him the answer he wanted to hear.

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “I thought I was, before, but now I don’t know what I want. I’m sorry.”

  “But —” spluttered Skender. “But —”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Behenna said, almost gently, ignoring the boy as though he wasn’t there. “It’s not a bad thing to be confused, especially at your age. Finding out who you are and what you should be is no easy process, and sometimes we take steps in the wrong direction along the way. Not usually as large as yours, I’ll admit, but it’s the same thing in principle. And it’s never too late to turn back.” He held her gaze for a moment then turned to address the Judges. “May I speak freely now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let me say this. Everything I have heard so far convinces me that I have done the right thing. Only one person has said anything sensible, and that is the one person I thought least likely. How dare you — who presumed to speak for these children without even knowing what one of them wanted — accuse me of not acting in their best interests? You can see the lengths I have gone to in order to ensure their safety. I have followed them a long way and at great personal cost. Are these the actions of a man who has only his self-interest at heart? Aren’t your misconceptions proof that I am more fit to make this decision than you?”

  Across from Shilly, Sal’s eyes narrowed, but he could say nothing.

  “Go on.”

  “Well, to begin with, I come from the same place as them, so I know what they’re leaving behind. I also know the full story behind Sal’s parents. I suspect that the version of events he has been told will turn out to be true only in fact, not in essence. He is too young to appreciate the subtleties. Exposure to his true father and the rest of his family, waiting for him right now in the Haunted City, will allow him the opportunity to make an informed decision about his future. Denying him that chance would be no better than caging him.”

  Behenna took several paces around the empty space between the Judges. “You question my motives, and I allow you that. But such questions can swing both ways. Mage Van Haasteren’s grip on the Keep has been weak for a generation, since the Payat Misseri scandal. What better way for him to firm the school’s reputation than taming a wild talent? I am not questioning his ability as a teacher but pointing out that his motivations are not necessarily so pure. He himself admits that he offered to teach Shilly because he wants to keep Sal. Is that the judgment of a man who has the best interests of the children at heart? If he was as ill-mannered as his own son when he was younger, it’s no wonder his father wanted to divert the lineage elsewhere.”

  Veins stood out in the Mage Van Haasteren’s neck, but he said nothing, and one strong hand on his son’s shoulder kept him quiet too.

  “He says that my journeyman betrayed his own brother.” Behenna continued his stroll around the circle until he was abreast with Shilly. “Well, there’s no denying that Tait did betray a confidence. But does he realise that Tait’s brother, Tom, is the only candidate I have ever seen to turn down Selection directly to the Alcaide’s face? What does that say about his judgment? Add to that the fact that Tom then helped Sal and Shilly escape in a vehicle that had been legally confiscated by the town’s Alders in order to prevent just such an escape, and ask yourself again whose judgment is poor.

  “My journeyman acted in good faith to protect Sal and Shilly from the lies they have been told. The friendship he has shown Shilly since demonstrates further that his heart is good. Don’t be fooled by the surface. Do justice to what’s at stake and dig deeper to find the truth.”

  He turned on Sal. “You, my boy, are the one I feel sorriest for. You despise me, steal from me and you seek to wound me, but I know that you only do so out of severe misunderstanding. It is not through any fault of your own. You deserve at least to know what your options are before you trap yourself here forever. You need to meet the rest of your family in order to know who you might become. At least let us take you that far. You should know by now that you can trust me to do only what is good for you.”

  Sal shook his head, slowly but definitely.

  “Think of Shilly, then,” the Sky Warden said. “I saved your friend’s life. I’ve offered her a place in the Haunted City, where she will be taught as she deserves to be. All you can offer her is isolation and alienation. Allow me to show you the alternative before you drag her off on another pointless adventure. Would you deny her the chance to achieve her true potential in the place she calls home?”

  Sal hesitated, his defiance undermined.

  “I see a clear dichotomy between the needs of each child,” interrupted the man’kin. “Is separation a possibility. The girl goes south with you while the boy stays here?”

  “No,” said Behenna, turning to face the man’kin. “That is not a possibility.”

  “Why not? Why must they be kept together?”

  “Their fates are linked,” said Van Haasteren. “I feel this, and so did Payat Misseri. Although I disapproved of his methods —” The Stone Mage glanced in disdain at the Sky Warden. “— I’m not surprised that Behenna agrees.”

  “To break that bond,” said the young woman standing beside Sal, “might have greater ramifications than we can see at present.”

  “But it is the simplest solution to the moral dilemma before us,” said the Judge with dark hair, frowning. “Can we be expected to see beyond that, to follow hints and hunches in the face of hard facts?”

  “We must consider all possibilities,” said the woman who had looked bored earlier. Now she was paying close attention to proceedings. “How would the children themselves feel about studying apart?”

  All eyes turned again to Shilly, since Sal was forbidden to speak. A surprising sense of dismay rolled through her at the thought of being separated from Sal. It was the same feeling she had felt during the storm, before Behenna had announced that Sal wasn’t going to escape after all. They had known each other only a short time, but he had had such a powerful effect on her life. The sense of togetherness they had shared for a brief time had carried them such a huge distance that it was easy to see why everyone thought they might do even more, one day. Turning her back on that possibility would be as hard as it had been to leave Fundelry.

  Judging by Sal’s expression, he was feeling much the same way. His jaw worked as he waited for her to answer, and his blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

  This time she was spared a
difficult decision.

  “This question is irrelevant,” said Behenna. “I came for both of them, not one of them.”

  “Are you saying you wouldn’t take one if that was all we allowed you?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all.” Behenna looked uncertain, as though the possibility had thrown him completely. “I’m saying that I could hardly leave with half the job done.”

  “You stated to the Mage Erentaite that you would abide by our ruling, no matter what it was.”

  “Yes, I did. But I —”

  “Would you take Shilly if our decision was to keep Sal here?”

  “That’s a little unfair, don’t you think? Asking me to choose between them?”

  “I’m not asking you to choose. I am asking you if you would be satisfied with such a decision.”

  “You’re trying to trick me into something,” the warden said. Shilly caught an urgent look flashing between Sal’s grandmother and the warden. “You’re trying to make it look as though I only want Sal by saying that I won’t take Shilly without him. That’s what you’re trying to do.”

  “Answer the question.” The man’kin swung its massive body one step forward and raised the tip of its ceremonial sword to waist height. Its wings unfolded and seemed to absorb the moonlight, leaving the night dark.

  Behenna swallowed, deflating. “No,” he said, weakly at first. “No, I wouldn’t take the girl alone. But not because —”

  “You do not need to say any more.”

  “Let me finish!” The warden faced the man’kin with wide, desperate eyes. “I wouldn’t take just Shilly because I came for both of them! I wouldn’t take just Sal, either, if you offered me that. One of them is no good; it has to be both.”

  “That is for us to decide.”

  “No. I’m sick of this farce. As a ranking Sky Warden I demand that these children be allowed to return to where they belong immediately. It’s time to stop playing games. These children are citizens of the Strand! Who gave you jurisdiction over them? More to the point, they’re wards of the state. My state, the state I represent!” He was shouting with such intensity it was uncomfortable to watch. “How dare you tell me what I can and can’t do with them?”

  “You’re not in your state any more,” said the woman standing next to Sal.

  “That doesn’t change who I am. It doesn’t change who I represent. I came here with the full authority of the Syndic. I speak with her voice. You —”

  “We have ourselves spoken with the Syndic,” said the man’kin.

  Behenna’s mouth hung open for a second. “What? When?”

  “This evening. You are not acting with her authority. You do not speak for her.”

  “But — but —” The warden looked around him as though seeking help. “But she wants the children.”

  “She does. That is true. She did not explicitly order you to go to such extremes, however, and she dismisses you from her service.”

  Behenna’s dark skin went deathly grey. “What does that mean?”

  “You broke your vows,” said Van Haasteren. “You turned your back on your training. What do you think it means?”

  “No.” The warden looked as though he had been punched in the gut. “No.”

  “Yes,” said the man’kin. “You did not have permission to extend the search beyond the boundaries of your prefecture. You failed to inform her of your movements at all times. You appropriated warden funds without authorisation. The Syndic might have forgiven these breaches of trust, but for your flagrant disregard of your vows. You have been stripped of your rank, effective immediately. We are obliged to return you to the Strand for a disciplinary hearing. You therefore have no power over us as spokesperson for the Stand. You have no right to order us to do anything.”

  Behenna backed away, shaking his head. He stared around at the ring of white faces enclosing him as though considering making a break for it. Shilly imagined him running across the desert, the hunted rather than the hunter — and suddenly realised exactly what Sal had been hoping to do. By making the Sky Warden break his vows and lose his favour with the Syndic, Sal had effectively undermined his plea to the Synod. All Sal had had to do was give Behenna a reason to break them — and it had worked perfectly.

  “So it’s over?” asked a voice that had not spoken once through the entire proceedings. “We’re free to go?”

  The man’kin swung its sword in one swift, startling movement, sweeping it up and out so that it pointed directly at Sal.

  “Silence! You are not allowed to speak here.”

  “But —”

  “This matter is not resolved until we reach a decision!” The sword swung again, this time to point at the Judges one by one. “Who raises a petition is not as important as the petition itself. This man’s fate is irrelevant to the situation before us and the decision we must still make. Make it we must, now, unless anyone else wishes to speak.”

  No one moved. Sal stood frozen as his clutch at freedom slipped through his fingers. It was truly out of his hands, now.

  Shilly’s heart went out to him, even though how she herself felt was still a mystery to her. She didn’t know if she was hoping to stay or to go — with or without Sal. It seemed most likely to her that the Judges would choose separation, since Sal so clearly belonged in the Interior and she didn’t, but that didn’t ease her mind. She was afraid of what the future held — especially when, ultimately, she didn’t know whose fate was really at stake. Where and how did she fit in? Why was everyone so determined to keep Sal and her together, regardless of what they wanted? For all she knew, she and Sal had no great destiny together at all, and she was little more than an impediment to him.

  There was nothing Sal could do now except hope that they would choose to keep him in the Interior rather than send him to the Strand.

  Her mind replayed images from the recent past while they all waited: of the buggy crushing her leg against the ravine wall; of Lodo urging them to run as the combined force of the Sky Wardens in Fundelry rose up against him; of the hurt in Sal’s eyes when he thought she had rejected him; of the desperation on Behenna’s face when success had been snatched from him.

  The Sky Warden was a picture of anxiety. Shilly couldn’t find it in herself to feel sorry for him. He was quite happy to sacrifice Sal’s happiness by taking him back to the Strand, and he was equally unconcerned about her happiness, too. After all his talk of getting her a teacher in the Haunted City, he had in the end refused to take her alone. His promises were empty unless he got Sal as well. He had also kept Lodo’s survival a secret from her when he had known what her first teacher had meant to her.

  As far as Shilly was concerned, Behenna deserved everything he got.

  The Judges said nothing for more than five minutes. She could tell that they were communicating furiously among themselves, although she couldn’t hear what they were saying. The icy regard of the moon twinkled with the Change stirring in the air. So much was going on beneath the surface of things that the skin of her arm lifted into goosebumps. The tension rose until she thought she was going to scream —

  “We have decided,” said the man’kin, lowering its sword to its usual position, point down in front of it. “Both children will return to the Strand.”

  Shock rolled through her as though she had been dunked in icy water. Return to the Strand? Both of them?

  She glanced around, wondering if she’d misheard. Sal was aghast; she could tell that just by looking at him. Behenna clearly didn’t know what to think, still stunned as he was by the news that he had been stripped of his rank. Radi Mierlo displayed no such confusion: her smile was wide and triumphant. Identical looks of surprise were on the two Van Haasterens, old and young.

  “But why?” asked Skender in disbelief.

  “It is in the children’s best interest.”

  “Sal and
Shilly?” said his father “I find that difficult to comprehend.”

  “You do not need to comprehend. This is the Nine Stars, and we are of one mind. Our decision is final. You will abide by it.”

  The mage opened his mouth to protest. For a startling moment, the mage reminded her of Lodo, although physically they couldn’t have been more different. Van Haasteren was tall and gloomy where Lodo had been short and grizzled, the only thing they had in common was the look in the mage’s eyes. In them Shilly saw nothing but dismay for her and Sal. There was no thought for himself. For the first time she sensed that he really cared about them — both of them.

  She remembered once wondering why the mage couldn’t be more like Lodo. At that moment she realised that the mage’s moods and silences made him exactly like Lodo. Only long experience with her former teacher had revealed what lay beneath — just as only the wrong decision, in the mage’s eyes, had exposed the depth of his compassion.

  In the instant it took to absorb that revelation, Van Haasteren gathered his resolve and stepped forward.

  “Surrender the limelight, Skender,” said the young-old woman standing by Sal, her voice cutting through the crystalline air like a bell.

  The mage stared balefully at the woman, then backed down, and there was no one left to speak against the decision.

  Othniel stepped forward. “It is over,” he said. “The petition has been heard and the decision made. You must return to your seats.”

  Shilly turned, a sense of unreality creeping over her. The circle of Judges broke apart to give them a way out.

  Tait put his arm around her and kissed her cheek.

  “We did it!”

  Although once she might have welcomed such a gesture, she awkwardly turned away. “You did it, not me.”

  “No, it was you too,” he said. “You said exactly the right thing. We couldn’t have done it without you, Shilly.”