"Rogan…"
"I recognise that tone," Rogan said. "What is it?"
"There is one last thing I need your help with…"
"Come on," Rogan growled, "out with it."
"You won't like it."
Ella told him.
~
ELLA entered the deserted Westcliff cemetery with two of Rogan's men. This late at night there would be no one present to watch a corpse be exhumed — a corpse that had been in the ground for over two decades.
She wore her green enchantress's dress, the hood pulled over her head, and over her shoulder she carried her satchel, the tools of her trade within. Rogan's two men were strong soldiers, and each carried a spade leaning against his shoulder in addition to the short swords at their waists. Yet as they approached the cemetery Ella could almost feel the fear washing from them as they gave her sidelong looks.
"What exactly are we looking for, Enchantress?" one of Rogan's men asked Ella.
"We're looking for the grave of Lord Aidan Alderon."
"How will we read the markers?" the other man whispered.
"Here," Ella said, reaching into her satchel and handing two items to the men. "They're pathfinders." She took a third pathfinder out for herself.
"Tish-shasah," Ella said, activating her pathfinder. A beam of light shone from the runes, and instantly the grave markers at Ella's feet were revealed in the glow. Soon all three of them searched the graveyard.
Tingara had seen many lords and ladies pass from life, and it was some time before one of the men called out.
"Hush," Ella said, approaching. "We need to stay quiet."
"Enchantress," the soldier whispered. "Look."
He shone his pathfinder down at the tombstone. It was simpler than the others, as if whoever had laid this stone had done so out of decorum rather than love. Even the words were cursory.
"Lord Aidan Alderon," Ella read. "Born 484 Y.E. Died 522 Y.E." She looked at the soldier as her second helper approached. "It doesn't say anything more."
Ella felt nothing but sadness. She'd finally found Killian's family, something he'd wanted his whole life, yet it was a story of tragedy. The grave was simple and said nothing of the man Lord Aidan was, but he was obviously a man of principle, who had stood up to an Emperor.
Ella wondered again about Lady Alise, Killian's mother, exiled to the Isle of Ana. Had she once looked down at this grave, crying tears of grief? Was she out there somewhere, still alive, wondering what had happened to the red-haired child that was taken from her?
"What do we do now?" the soldier who had found the marker said.
"I'm sorry," Ella said, "but we have to do this. We need to dig up the coffin and put it on the cart we came in."
Exchanging glances, the men set to work.
~
THE COFFIN was heavy, and buried deep. It was hours before it sat on the bed of the drudge-pulled cart they'd arrived in, and by then Ella's hands were covered in dirt, her fingernails broken and torn.
Ella climbed up to the platform, sitting in the driver's seat and looking out from the height of the cart. The sky was lightening and the darkness of night shifted hue through violet and amber. The sun would rise soon, and Ella needed to be on her way.
"Do you need us to open the lid?" one of Ella's helpers said.
"No, thank you," Ella said.
"What are we doing next?"
"Well," said Ella, "it's up to you. I don't require your assistance any more, but if you'd like to hitch a ride for a time…"
She tried not to smile when the two soldiers looked at each other and mutely came to an agreement.
"No, that's all right…"
"We'll be fine walking."
"Thank you, men, for your help," Ella said. "I appreciate it, as does the Lord Regent."
"Good luck with… with…"
Ella finally allowed herself to smile, and with a spoken word, she activated the drudge and was on her way.
She had been given instruction on how to control a drudge by none other than Evrin, long ago when he'd been posing as a Halrana merchant. The words came easily to her, and the rocking motion of the cart on the cobbled stones was soothing as Ella gazed at the waking city around her.
The new essence machines might be being built at Mornhaven, but Seranthia would always be the beating heart of the Empire. The population of Tingara dwarfed that of the other houses; if there were ever a vote on who would be Emperor, a Tingaran would certainly be the one named.
Ella watched as vendors set up market stalls, in a routine they'd probably followed their entire lives. They ignored her cart and the stone box on its bed, still covered in dirt.
Ella passed an alley where dogs roamed the streets, looking for scraps. She then turned a corner and there was a magnificent temple, devoted to the Evermen. Such contrast in Seranthia, such energy… if only it could be channelled in the right direction, under a wise leader.
But Tingara's long-held dominance had led to complacency, and then despotism. As the Emperors became more and more capricious, so the land fell into darkness. There hadn't always been streetclans in Seranthia, and the poor hadn't always existed in such multitudes. Once, the Empire was controlled by no single house, it simply had its administration in Tingara. Seranthia had been ruled justly — laws such as the ridiculous practice of rounding up vagrants and casting them over the walls were a recent invention.
Rogan's relaxation of such laws had led to an outpouring of energy, as those who could never complain before did so with gusto.
The people needed a ruler like Rogan, who would treat them with decency, but they also needed one of their own, who understood how the Assembly of Templars and the Tingaran leadership fit together.
Ella wondered. Could Killian be such a leader?
She turned the drudge again, and in the distance Seranthia's great harbour opened up below. Ella could see the Sentinel in the distance, the statue on its island silhouetted by the breaking dawn, its arm raised to the sky imploringly. Fishing boats were returning to the docks, their holds filled with the morning's catch. Imperial warships sailed out on patrol.
Ella guided the drudge down a long street, heading directly for the harbour.
She remembered the first time she met Killian. He'd been posing as a merchant's agent, seeking goods in foreign lands. How naïve she'd been! Charming and confident, he'd shown Ella what it meant to be young, at a time when she'd been forced to grow up ahead of others her age. Brandon, Ella's guardian, had died, and Miro was far away in Seranthia. Ella struggled with her studies and the mistakes she'd made. No one had known war was just around the corner.
Ella had fallen in love with Killian, but it was the immature love of a girl. Only later, when she'd seen his true nature, had the feelings of something deeper sparked within her.
Then came Ilathor, the dark prince of the Hazara Desert, and the conquest of Petrya. They'd all seen so much death in those days, and Ella had found herself unable to resist the comfort of Ilathor's arms.
Killian's last words to Ella were to tell her he loved her, before he made a crossing from which he knew he could never return.
If there was one thing Ella had learned, it was that there was always a way.
The Sentinel beckoned. Killian needed her.
Ella was going to get him back.
26
A MAN in black waited for Ella at the dock, now lit by sunrise, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him.
The man walked towards Ella as she called the drudge to a halt close to the water's edge, looking up at Ella with his dark eyes.
"Jehral," Ella said warmly.
She dismounted from the cart and gave the desert warrior a swift embrace. "Thank you. I was worried you wouldn't come. Did you bring it?"
"Yes, Ella, I brought it." Jehral held up a bundle, wrapped in oilskin.
Two more people came into view, a dark-haired woman in a red robe, and a bladesinger with curly locks and groomed moustaches. Both also
held bundles.
"You have no idea how difficult this was," Shani said. "If it had been anyone but you…"
"I hope you know what you're doing," said Bartolo, running his fingers through his hair.
"Rogan knows," Ella said. "He believes in what I'm doing."
"Does he know about these?" Shani said, holding up her bundle.
"Well…"
"Same old Ella." Bartolo grinned.
"What's in the cart?" Shani asked.
"I'll tell you in a moment. Have they been renewed?"
"Yes," said Jehral, "they've all been renewed."
"Can I have them?" Ella stepped
"Ella…" said Shani. "We've all been given the same instructions. We're not to let them out of our sight. You're going to have to tell us why you need them."
Ella realised these people were her friends; they had a right to know. She wondered where to begin. "One of the Evermen is in Merralya. He has essence, and he's out there somewhere, building an army."
"Lord of the Sky," Bartolo breathed.
"Do you know this for a fact?" Jehral said. "The Kalif must know."
"Challenging him will require the united strength of all the houses, and the Empire is in chaos, with the shortage of essence crushing our economy and fragmenting the new order, just when we need it to be strong. Challenging his army will be difficult. Challenging one of the Evermen may be beyond us. There is only one who could face him."
Jehral looked out from the dock at the Sentinel, now lit by the glow of dawn.
"Killian," Shani said. She and Bartolo exchanged glances.
"That's right," said Ella. She lifted her chin. "You're going to help me bring him back."
"Ella, how much are your feelings dictating your actions?" Shani said. "Are you sure you're acting rationally?"
"Whatever my feelings are, I know this is right. He crossed over because he was the only one able to do so, and because Evrin told him it was the only way to prevent the return of the Evermen. He's been trapped there for over two years. Worst of all, his sacrifice was for nothing. One of them crossed over. We don't know how, but he did. We need Killian, and I believe I've found a way to bring him back."
"Ella, you need to face the fact he may be dead," Bartolo said.
"I have to try."
"And what if going through the portal enables more of them to cross over?"
"It won't. I won't let that happen," Ella said. She looked at her three friends, people who she'd shared hardship and the horrors of war with. "You will leave me there, if need be."
Shani, Jehral and Bartolo looked at each other for a moment.
Finally Shani sighed. "All right. We'll help you. I've learned to trust in you, Ella, and I'll trust you now."
Jehral clasped Ella's shoulder, a rare gesture of affection.
"I hope you know what you're doing," Bartolo repeated.
"Thank you," Ella said. "I'll feel better, knowing you're on the other side."
She looked at the three bundles held in her three friends' hands. Ella had studied the part-destroyed book of the Evermen endlessly. She'd performed the equations, and calculated the requirements. The portal's requirements for energy were huge, but Ella had found a source of power that would enable her to open the portal, albeit for the briefest moments at a time.
In their hands, her friends held their houses' Lexicons. Bartolo must have fought like a demon to convince High Enchanter Merlon to relinquish the Alturan Lexicon. Jehral would have begged Ilathor, now Kalif, to lend Ella the Lore of Illusion. Shani's possessive grip on her bundle said enough.
"Now, what's in the coffin?" Bartolo said.
"The Emperor's brother-in-law, Lord Aidan," said Ella. "Killian's father. Here, help me with him."
~
THE SUN shot above the horizon as the group of four travelled across the harbour on a stout galley, their destination: the Sentinel.
Eight men rowed the galley while another piloted the vessel. The stone coffin lay in the centre of the boat. The rowers hadn't asked, and the four passengers hadn't been forthcoming with information.
Ella's mind swirled with symbols and properties, activation sequences and lore drain. She'd had little sleep and her eyes were heavy, but excitement and fear worked through her blood in equal parts.
If she succeeded in opening the portal, she would be crossing over to another world. She had no idea what to expect.
With each stroke of the oars the looming statue grew bigger, until it dominated their vision, massive and unearthly, a relic from another time. He stood tall and bold on the wide pedestal, with one arm raised and pointing upwards at the sky. A strange headpiece decorated the statue's head, a crown, with a rune decorating its front.
Ella could now see the low wall being built around the base of the statue. She saw soldiers in Alturan green and Tingaran legionnaires, as well as builders from Torakon in sand-coloured robes. Even at this early hour, the island was a hive of activity.
The galley tied up at a small pier where two other boats were tied up. Ella wondered if the rowers would help them with the coffin but they looked away, and the four friends struggled with it until they were on solid land. The galley departed without another word.
"Friendly bunch," said Bartolo.
"Let's see," Shani said. "We've got a coffin, and we're taking it to the one place they're forbidden to set foot on by imperial decree. Oh, and it's the place where rumours say the Primate died at the end of the war. Would you be nervous?"
"Well, when you put it that way," Bartolo mused.
An officer came forward, his men behind him, and Ella hoped for someone she knew, but this man wore Tingaran purple, and was a captain by his raj hada.
"Just what's going on here," he demanded.
"Captain, we're here on the Lord Regent's orders."
"I haven't been given any orders."
"Here," Ella said, holding out the pass Rogan had given her.
The captain quickly scrutinised it. "I'll need to have this checked."
Ella knew that with the coffin out of the cold ground, it would warm up, making her task much more difficult, if not impossible. The Lexicons had been renewed, but her three friends had each made a long journey, and with every moment the Lexicons' power would be draining away.
"I'm sorry, Captain," Ella said, "but I'm afraid we don't have time. My name is Ella Torresante. My brother is the Lord Marshal of Altura. This is Shani, an elementalist and adviser to the Petryan High Lord. This is Bartolo, a bladesinger, and this is Jehral, adviser to the Hazaran Kalif. You have our pass. We need to enter the statue."
"Two Alturans, a Petryan, and a Hazaran. Need I remind you you're on Tingaran soil?"
Ella was growing frustrated. "Captain, this isn't about house rivalries. This is important."
"What's in those packages?" the captain asked, pointing at the bundles Ella's friends held in their hands. "Give them to me."
"No," Bartolo said. "Ella, I'm not giving this to them. I swore an oath I wouldn't let it out of my control."
"Nor am I," said Shani.
"I will not hand this over," said Jehral.
Ella looked at the captain. He was inexperienced and jittery. Ella guessed this wasn't considered a rewarding assignment, watching men build a wall, and had been perhaps been given low importance. Yet the captain seemed like the type to take his role seriously, perhaps suffering from an excess of pride. Normally Ella would have applauded the man's duty to his orders, but now she cursed the stubborn captain.
The soldiers stood around their commanding officer, and Ella now realised he was trying to save face in front of his men.
"If you allow me to inspect your belongings, you may pass," he said.
"No," Bartolo said. He placed a hand on the hilt of his zenblade.
"Captain," one of the soldiers said, "he's a bladesinger."
"Men, at arms!" the captain called.
Swords were drawn. Ella wondered how they'd managed to get into this mess. She didn'
t want to fight the people she was trying to help!
"Stop!" Ella cried.
She had their attention, but she knew she had moments to calm the situation. "Captain, you're doing an excellent job. You're under orders from the Lord Regent and you're following them. No one is to go near the statue, is that correct?"
"That's correct." The captain scowled.
"We're here as part of those defences. I'm an enchantress and I am going inside the statue to add wards to supplement the work you are doing here. That makes sense, doesn't it?"
Ella saw the thoughts crossing the dim-witted captain's face. She'd offered him an opportunity to save face.
"The things we carry with us are dangerous — they must be, to protect this area as effectively as a Torak-built wall and all your men. That's why we can't let you have them."
"I see," said the captain. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?"
Ella smiled. "We weren't sure if you'd understand, but I can see now that I was wrong."
"Can I see that pass again?"
"Here."
The captain pretended to inspect the pass once more. "Ah, I see now."
"My apologies for any confusion," Ella said.
"Quite all right. Umm… What's in the coffin, then?"
"The Emperor's brother-in-law," Shani said.
The Tingaran captain screwed up his face.
Ella frowned at Shani. "It's not a coffin, it's an energy sink."
"An… energy sink… Of course," the captain said. "Can my men be of assistance?"
"If you could lend us four of your men to help with this, we'd greatly appreciate it," Ella said. "Thank you, Captain."
~
ELLA felt her pulse race as she stood on the pedestal at the base of the statue and saw the circle of runes at her feet.
Shani, Bartolo and Jehral clustered nervously behind her, while four strong soldiers held the coffin between them.
Ella spoke in a loud voice. "Mulara-latahn. Sunara-latahn. Sumayara-sulamara-latanara."
The symbols lit up with a steady green fire, the light travelling from one rune to the next until the circle blazoned with a fierce glow. A grinding sound came from below, and soon the stone disc slid downwards, twisting and folding, revealing the stairway underneath.
The Path of the Storm (The Evermen Saga, Book Three) Page 22