It’d been wearing on his mind for a while now, and Loramere’s words only brought it up again. After the long silence, he finally worked up the nerve to ask.
“Why do we do all this?” he asked. “One elemental prism per Seraph, permission for duels, having the theotechs oversee battles… what’s the point?”
“The point is keeping the death tolls to a minimum. Battles end quicker if people can retreat and may only bring a single prism. Duels grow rarer if both need permission. Theotechs ensure that when a side retreats, no one ignores that call.”
“Yes, but we shouldn’t need to come crawling to them for permission for every little thing we do. We’re independent nations.”
“Are we really, Kael?”
It sounded borderline treasonous, and Kael frowned at the Seraph.
“What are you saying?” he asked.
“What I’m saying is the whole reason we have water to drink and food to eat is because the theotechs manage the Fount beneath Weshern,” Loramere said. “Theotechs loyal to Center, not our Archon. They also supply us, at a ridiculously high cost I might add, the elements we use to power our wings and arm our gauntlets. We may not be under the direct rule of Center’s theocracy, but we’re hardly independent.”
There was no denying what he was hearing, not with how similar the two arguments were.
“You sound like a disciple of Johan,” he said.
Loramere’s face immediately darkened.
“Johan preaches that the Speaker doesn’t hear the words of the angels, and we should overthrow Center’s control completely, forcing the theotechs to reveal the secrets of the elements and those operating the Fount to hand over control. Don’t confuse me for one of his disciples just because I’m willing to admit the complicated nature of our relationship with Center.”
Loramere increased the speed of his wings, and Kael did likewise. The harsh response left him quiet, and he decided not to press the issue further. They passed the edge of Weshern, leaving nothing between them and the sparkling blue ocean far, far below. Kael’s stomach tightened, and he was surprised by his sudden exhilaration. Despite all his hours flying, this was his first time over the open water. Even when he was performing some of the trickier aerial maneuvers, the ground was a few hundred feet below him at most. Now? Now, there was only a distant, rippling blue blanket. It reminded him of just how high they were, how free of the world they flew even when walking upon the grass and rock of Weshern.
Kael flew as close as he dared to Loramere and shouted to be heard.
“So what message are you carrying for us?” Kael asked, wanting to remove the silence that had come over him after the mention of Johan and push their conversation back to safer waters. “Is it one of those boring no-message ones?”
Loramere shrugged his shoulders, the motion causing him to dip a little in the air.
“Can’t say for sure,” he said. “We don’t open these scrolls under any circumstances once they’re sealed, understood? This thing could request a death duel between members of different islands, it could be numbers and rates related to trade, or it could be a request for all-out war. If it’s opened, the theotechs will assume it was tampered with and not honor the request. Trust me, Kael, you don’t want to mess up some trade treaty because you got a little curious.” Loramere tapped the scroll again. “Oh, and based on my experience, the odds are pretty damn good that, yeah, this is another one of those boring no-message days.”
Loramere shifted a little to correct his course, and Kael followed. Up ahead, already looming large despite such distance, was Center. Its cities were white dots among the countryside, the forests dark green splotches, the rivers thin blue veins. Above them all towered the mountain, its lower half dotted with forests, its upper a deep brown. Scattered throughout were the holy temples, though from so far away they were still invisible. Flying one after the other like a trail of ants were the ferrymen, coming to and from all five directions. Instead of joining the line of ferrymen flying toward Center from Weshern, Loramere kept them far to the right, and he slowed his pace considerably.
“We’re not going to the docks?” Kael asked.
“And endure all that mess?” the Seraph asked, and he gestured toward the docks with their colored flags and layers of platforms full of ferrymen. At such distance, it looked to Kael like the buzzing of a beehive. “No, we’re heading straight to the source.”
Kael shrugged, figuring he’d find out when they arrived. Given how Loramere flew at a leisurely speed with the throttle barely halfway full, the minutes crawled by. A few times Kael dared look to the ocean below, mesmerized by the sparkling surface, but he couldn’t do so for long before his stomach started to tighten and his breaths began to feel shallow.
“So tell me about last night,” Loramere said, so relaxed he might as well have been relaxing in a hammock beside a cool pond.
“Not much to say. Was pretty boring.”
The older man glanced at him, eyebrow raised.
“Did you not have a date?”
“No, I did,” Kael said, suddenly thinking he’d prefer silence. “Clara invited me.”
“As in Clara Willer?”
When Kael nodded, Loramere laughed.
“No wonder you were bored. You spent the whole night hobnobbing with royalty, I take it? Been to a few of those myself. The elites spend so much time kissing ass they never say anything interesting for fear of developing a personality. Makes for long nights. Did yours end well at least?”
Kael felt his neck suddenly flare with heat, and he struggled to find the right words.
“What do you mean?” he asked, attempting to stall.
“I mean did you get a kiss from Weshern’s most eligible bachelorette?”
Face and neck now in full blush, Kael shook his head.
“No,” he said.
“She shoot you down?”
Kael felt there should be a million other things more proper to discuss as they flew toward Center, but it seemed Loramere was having far too much fun to let the topic drop.
“I, no,” he stammered. “I mean, I never…”
The giant man let out a deep, rolling laugh that was easy to hear despite their flight.
“So you lost your nerve? I’m disappointed in you, Kael. You can fly loops in the sky, but can’t work up the nerve to kiss a girl? Not even a good-bye kiss?”
Loramere was making it seem so simple. But it wasn’t, Kael told himself. Was it…?
“I don’t think she wanted me to,” he said.
The Seraph twisted so he could grin at Kael.
“Where’d you say good-bye to her, at the door?”
“Yeah.”
“Did she linger around afterward, maybe tell you how great a time she had before you could go?”
More heat burning in his neck and face.
“Yeah.”
“Then you’re as clueless as you are cowardly. A fine combination, Kael, and one you need to start fixing as soon as possible.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Kael grumbled. “For now, how about we stick to our duties?”
“As you insist, little Seraph,” Loramere said.
The southern edge of Center was almost upon them, the buzzing chaos of the docks several miles to their west. By now, Kael had an idea where they flew. An enormous fortress surrounded by forests, like a castle from the old fairy tales Aunt Bethy used to tell, loomed at the southwest edge of Center. Dozens of stone towers rose up from various corners, for the fortress had multiple wings stretching out in all directions. Its rear was built into the very beginnings of Center’s mountain, its walls and towers melding into it as if the fortress were a natural extension of the stone. There was no mistaking the fortress’s entrance, not even from afar, for it bore twin wooden doors bolted together with iron, the doors more than ten times the height of a man. Two long walls angled out at either side of the entrance, and armored men with long spears and shields patrolled its surface. In the skies all about th
e fortress hovered golden-armored knights, at least two dozen by Kael’s count.
“We’re heading into the belly of the beast,” Loramere said. “This is Heavenstone, the theotechs’ private fortress and home to their angelic knights. Keep your mouth shut and do nothing that might draw attention. When it comes to the theotechs, the worst thing you can do is get noticed.”
Kael bobbed his head as they flew across soft rolling hills leading up to the entrance, effectively following a winding road of stone bricks. Despite the early hour, he saw more than a dozen heavy carts pulled by donkeys traveling the road, and he wondered what they brought with them. Goods to barter? Tribute, perhaps? He knew so little of Center, only that its power was absolute, that power wielded by the Speaker for the Angels, the man responsible for sharing and protecting the word of God since the Ascension.
As they flew closer to the fortress, Kael saw one of the knights split off from the castle and zip toward them. He didn’t join them, only hovered above, following like a shadow.
“Don’t let it unnerve you,” Loramere said. “They’re a careful lot, that’s all. Speaking of…”
Though the castle looked at least a quarter mile away, Loramere dipped low to the ground while righting himself. The glow of his silver wings faded, and Kael mimicked the maneuver. The wind blew against their upright bodies, killing their speed, and with practiced ease Loramere dropped to the ground, legs pumping for just a second or two as he slowed to a walk. Kael let himself float a bit longer, not wanting to misjudge and topple face-first onto the brick road, then let his feet touch down. Shutting off his wings, he stretched his arms and legs. He’d been far more nervous than he realized, for the muscles in his back felt incredibly tight.
“Never fly straight into any building owned by the theotechs,” Loramere explained as they walked side by side down the road. “Always land so they can get a good look at you, as well as confirm you’re not a threat.”
Sure enough, the knight who had been shadowing them flew overhead, accompanied by the thrumming sound of his wings. Kael almost wanted to wave at him, to show they weren’t dangerous, but he remembered what Loramere said. The last thing he wanted to do was get noticed, for any reason. Best to pretend he’d done this all before.
Falling silent, the two strode toward Heavenstone, which looked even more imposing from ground level. Ahead of them was a covered cart driven by a young man, and the sound of its wheels upon the stone clattered in a constant chorus. Despite the heavy cloth covering, Kael spotted wicker baskets full of apples underneath, and his stomach rumbled.
“Should have eaten something before we left,” he said.
“We can swing by one of the markets afterward if you’d like,” Loramere said.
“I didn’t bring any coin with me.”
Loramere clucked his tongue as he shook his head.
“I’ll be nice and pay for today,” he said. “It’s not your fault you’re young and stupid.”
“Thanks,” Kael muttered.
When they reached the edges of the two walls on either side of the road protecting the entrance, Kael snuck a look at the tops. At least fifty men patrolled either edge, with another ten positioned at even intervals, staring down carefully at all who passed. On the road itself, ten soldiers stood guard on either side of the door. The traffic had bunched into a line, for each cart was thoroughly checked, and those who walked carrying baskets or bags had to set them down so the soldiers could riffle through them.
Kael and Loramere waited patiently in line for their turn, and Kael realized how strange that was. At the Weshern docks, Nickolas had commandeered a lift for them to use, but here on Center? Here they would wait, no different from a farmer or baker. Whether deliberate or accidental, either way it made him realize of how little importance they were to Center when compared to the prestige they carried back on Weshern.
After several minutes, it was finally their turn.
“What business brings you here?” asked one of the soldiers, who stepped out from the line to address them. Like the angelic knights’, his armor was tinted gold, though paler, and instead of a white tunic, his was a dark crimson.
“I bring news from Weshern,” Loramere said, standing upright and speaking in a rigid, formal tone. “It is for the eyes of the theotechs only.”
The soldier nodded, and he beckoned them on through the doors. Kael did his best to stare straight ahead, but he cheated at the last moment when they stepped through the enormous doors that looked like they belonged to a giant. Though they were opened only a sliver of the way, there was still enough room for two carts to enter side by side. Four enormous black iron chains were bolted to the interior side of each door, and they stretched up to the ceiling and then vanished through gaps in the stone, connecting to various hidden machinery. Kael doubted he could lift even a single link without aid.
The entry room was enormous, the ceiling as tall as the doors. The floor was bare stone, much of it covered with dirt, straw, and excrement from the animals pulling the many carts. Twin rows of pillars formed a natural walkway, but instead of following it to what appeared to be an enormous market, Loramere took an immediate right, passing between two pillars. On the other side was a red carpet running parallel to the pillars, and Loramere led them down it to the end of the room.
“Just follow the red carpet,” Loramere whispered. Given the rattling of wheels, the clop of hooves of the horses and donkeys, and the hundreds of voices bartering back and forth, Kael had to slide even closer and strain to hear him.
The carpet turned right, to where two angelic knights stood guarding a curved archway leading deeper into the fortress. Their armor gleamed in the light that came in through the many slender windows. One man had two swords strapped to his waist, while the other held an enormous black ax, its head painted with swirling red runes. The handle alone was as tall as Kael. He couldn’t imagine the strength required to lift and swing it in combat, but the knight appeared to hold it with ease. Standing at a lectern behind the two knights was a robed theotech, all red cloth and gold chains and white hair. On his lectern was an enormous open tome, and at his side was a wooden box filled with at least twenty scrolls tied shut with a simple bit of string.
Loramere clasped his hands behind him and bowed low, and Kael hurried to do the same. Neither said anything, only waited to be addressed by the theotech.
“Weshern?” the man asked, his voice groaning as if marbles were lodged deep in his throat.
“We are,” Loramere answered.
The theotech outstretched his hand.
“Well, let’s have it.”
Loramere stepped between the knights, careful not to move all the way past them, and handed over the scroll before stepping back. The theotech removed both caps, broke the wax seal, and unfurled the scroll. His watery eyes skimmed over the message, and he chuckled softly.
“How interesting,” he said. “I believe this is a first for me, Seraph, a request for a duel where I already have the answer waiting.”
He bent down to the box, grabbed one of the scrolls almost immediately, and then held it out. The knight with the ax took it and handed it to Loramere, who accepted it with another low bow of his head.
“We will administer the duel tomorrow at sunrise,” the theotech said. “You may go.”
“Many thanks, kind theotech,” Loramere said. Spinning on his heels, he marched away, and Kael followed.
“A duel?” he asked as they trudged down the red carpet. “Between whom?”
“If you want to know, then go ahead and see for yourself,” Loramere said, tossing him the scroll. Kael caught it, and he stared at the Seraph with his eyes wide.
“We’re allowed to look?” he asked. After all the care to ensure the delivered message was secret, it seemed bizarre that the response would be so carelessly handled.
“If the theotechs give us a scroll, it’s common knowledge of the least importance,” Loramere explained. “If it was something important, or needed
to be kept secret, it’d never be in our possession. A knight would fly over with it instead. Besides, it’s just a duel. Word of it will be announced the moment we land back in Weshern anyway.”
It made a little sense, Kael supposed. When he tugged on the string, the scroll easily slid open. As they exited the enormous double doors, Kael unrolled it so he could read the already-prepared acceptance.
Eric Drae, of the holy island of Galen, accepts the proposed duel offered by Dean Averson, of the holy island of Weshern. As this is a matter of honor, the duel is to the death, and bears no other terms or consequences.
Kael’s feet felt frozen to the ground, and it was only when Loramere called his name harshly that he forced himself to continue moving away from the fortress entrance.
“Well, what is it?” Loramere asked. “What’s the matter with you?”
“I need to get home, now,” Kael said.
“Don’t you want to grab something to eat first?”
Kael shook his head.
“How far until I can safely fly?” he asked, thinking of the security and paranoia surrounding Heavenstone.
“About where we landed,” Loramere said, gesturing into the distance. “If you’re in a hurry, you’ll need to run.”
Kael rolled the scroll up and gave it back to the Seraph.
“Then I need to run,” he said.
Legs pumping, he raced past the many carts continuing to travel his way. A shadow flashed over him as one of the knights followed, perhaps curious as to the reason for his run, but he paid it no mind. He had to find Bree. He had to tell her. Perhaps it wasn’t too late. Perhaps they could still cancel the duel, and even if they couldn’t, she still deserved to know.
When it seemed he was far enough away, he leapt into the air, jamming down on the throttle and paying no mind to the painful jerk on his body from the sudden shift in speed. Soaring over rolling green hills, Kael pushed the throttle as high as he dared.
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