The Path of the Storm (The Evermen Saga, Book Three)

by James Maxwell

  "The Empire will need strong leadership," Miro said, "if we're to survive the coming storm. Altura stands directly in the enemy's path, but we can't stand alone. We'll need bladesingers and enchanters, but we'll also need the strength of all the houses combined. We'll need Veznan nightshades and Petryan elementalists, Tingaran avengers and Halrana constructs. We can't let what happened to the land across the sea happen to our homeland."

  "I saw what they did to Shar," Ella said. "They destroyed that world, and it's now a place of nightmare. The Lord of the Night will do anything to aid his brothers' return. He'll stop at nothing."

  "And we have to do everything we can to prevent him," said Miro.

  "Ella," Amber said, "I want to give you this."

  She held out a leather-bound volume. Splatters of blood spotted the spine and the cover.

  "The man who gave it to me was one of the Guild's masters. He knew all their secrets. He said in this book's pages is the cure for my son's poisoning. The poison is something called arsenic. Do you think you can search this book and find the cure?"

  "I'll do everything in my power to help you," Ella promised, taking the book. "I'll study it on the way back to Sarostar, every moment I get."

  "Has Evrin Evenstar finished building the machines?" Miro asked.

  "No, he hasn't. When I depart Altura, it will be to go to Mornhaven to see if I can help."

  "I don't understand. Without a great amount of essence, how did you open the portal?"

  "I used the power of three Lexicons."

  "But how did you get them to the chamber inside the Sentinel?"

  "Well…" Ella smiled. "I asked Bartolo, Jehral and Shani to request them from their respective loremasters. They met me with the Lexicons and we were able to open the portal. Only later did I discover…"

  "What?" Amber asked.

  "They didn't request them. They knew they would never get permission. All three of them stole them."

  61

  CHIMING music tinkled in the air, carried across from district to district upon the tumbling waters of the Sarsen. The nine bridges of Sarostar thronged with people, all dressed in their finery. Men and women held hands, while children skipped and played on the streets. There was a mood of celebration in the air.

  This time they weren't gathered for a wedding, it was a coronation. This time nothing would go wrong.

  The fountains outside the Crystal Palace shot up into the sky, splashing back to the stone before rising up again. Lords and dignitaries crowded the riverbank close to the palace, each holding a glass and smiling as they chatted quietly. The musicians ended a tune, to be met with applause, before moving onto the next uplifting score.

  The rulers of all the nine houses — even Vezna — had journeyed to Sarostar from across the Empire. None would miss being present to see Miro Torresante become High Lord of Altura, as his father Serosa had been long ago.

  This was a time of coronations, and with the new leaders came new hope. After Miro's inauguration they would travel together to Seranthia to witness the crowning of a new Emperor. The journey would give them an opportunity to talk, and to prepare. The Empire was whole, and they had much to discuss.

  From the heights of the Crystal Palace two great banners fluttered in the late summer breeze. The first banner was green, and bore a sword and flower, the emblem of Altura. Above it, in pride of place, a second banner of black silk overlooked the people below. In its centre the black banner bore a nine-pointed star, with each point coloured a different shade.

  Red for House Petrya: the colour of rust-coloured earth and fire.

  Blue for House Loua Louna: the shade of the artificers.

  Purple for House Tingara: always the Emperor's colour.

  Yellow for House Hazara: the colour of the desert.

  Brown for House Halaran: the hue of the tilled earth.

  Pink for House Buchalantas: those people born on the sunlit sea.

  Tan for House Torakon: the colour of sand and stone.

  Orange for House Vezna: the shapers of nature.

  Green for House Altura: the emerald shade of the enchanters.

  Many were those who looked up at the black banner and felt the hope of a new day stir in their hearts. They waited expectantly for the man they had come here to see, Miro Torresante. Where was he? Many looked around, but neither his wife nor his sister could be seen either.

  Everything was ready. Miro would emerge from the Crystal Palace in the high-collared robe of his new office, and his retinue of Alturan lords would fall into procession behind him. He would lead them through the streets of Sarostar, giving the people of Altura a chance to see their new ruler up close, before returning to the Crystal Palace to be acknowledged by the visiting dignitaries.

  The Alturan lords shifted and stirred as they hovered to either side of the wide marble palace steps. The great timepiece on the face of the Green Tower began to peal, far off at the Academy of Enchanters. The moment was upon them.

  Where was he?

  ~

  EVERYTHING about the room was white, from the gentle glow emanating from the crystal walls to the linen on the bed.

  Amber knelt beside her son's unconscious form, her head bowed as if in supplication. She finally looked up. "Should we give him another spoonful? Where's the bottle?"

  Ella came over to stand beside her friend. "No. I know it's been a week, but give him time. The counteragent needs to bind to the poison so that it can be expelled with his bodily wastes."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "Please, Amber. I know it's hard, but trust me."

  Amber leaned forward to stroke Tomas's cheek. "Please, come back to me."

  Sensing movement behind her, Ella turned.

  Miro stood by the door in a long robe of green silk, the fabric woven with protective runes. An incredibly high collar framed his head, stiff and striking. With his sharp features, dark hair, and the scar that ran from under his eye to his jaw line, he looked imposing and intimidating, regal and commanding, all at the same time.

  A bell began to peal. Knowing Miro should now be exiting the palace, Ella still said nothing.

  The burn marks on the child's legs had healed. The poison was another matter.

  "Anything?" Miro said. "Scratch it, we tried so hard!"

  "Shh," Ella hushed. "We still don't know anything. Be patient. Layla said he's been rebuilding his strength since we gave him the counteragent."

  "Why won't he wake up?"

  Amber continued to stroke her son's skin, pulling the hair back from his forehead. "He looks so still."

  Miro came over to stand behind his wife, resting his hands on her shoulders.

  Ella thought about everything that had happened to her brother and her childhood friend. They'd finally had the wedding they had always wanted, and it had ended in disaster. They'd travelled halfway across the world to find the cure their son needed, and it had displayed no apparent effect.

  Ella blinked, and felt a tear roll down her cheek. She wanted nothing more than for Miro and Amber to be happy. Why did they have to endure such pain?

  She thought about the alchemist's dying words. He'd spoken those words to Amber and Miro, asking them to pass them on. What had he meant exactly?

  "Tell them everything is toxic, and small amounts of things considered poisonous can do good, while large amounts of safe substances can kill."

  Whatever he had meant, he considered it important enough to say those words with his last breath.

  Ella knew she had made the counteragent properly. Was Tomas too far gone to recover? Only time would tell.

  She looked at Miro's face. He seemed unaware that outside the palace they were waiting for him. Every High Lord had travelled incredible distances to be here, and Alturans had travelled far and wide to be present to welcome their new ruler. Yet Miro's concern was for Amber, and the son that wasn't his by blood, but would always be his in every other way.

  An eyelid fluttered, but Ella swiftly crushed the h
ope that began to swell in her breast, unwilling to face the disappointment that would follow. Then the other eyelid moved.

  Miro knelt until he was beside Amber. He took the child's hand in his.

  Amber looked at Miro and there were tears streaming down her face. Miro put his arm around her, and Ella saw his eyes were reddened also. Ella sniffed and wiped at her own eye.

  The face that had until now been so calm, so serene, began to twitch. "He squeezed my hand," Miro whispered. "He squeezed my hand!"

  Tomas opened his eyes.

  "Mama?" the child said. He licked his lips. "What's happening?"

  "I'm here, Tomas," Amber sobbed. "I'm here."

  "Why are you crying?"

  "I'm crying because I'm happy."

  Ella squeezed Amber's shoulder. Deciding it was time to leave them alone, she exited the room without a word, her own sense of relief and joy overpowering.

  She walked through the softly lit chambers of the Crystal Palace, finally reaching the open doors to the main entrance. Ella could see them all waiting, the lords of Altura dressed in their finery and hovering around the steps, waiting for her brother.

  She descended the steps as the distant bell pealed. A man in an elegant maroon doublet tugged on her sleeve, leaning forward. "Your brother," the lord whispered. "Where is he?"

  Ella whispered in the lord's ear, watching the expression on the man's face shift from concern to elation.

  She smiled as the lord turned to address the people around him, raising his voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have wonderful news. The High Lord's son has recovered."

  His words were greeted with a cheer and suddenly the tension in the lords' bodies left, and they were grinning and passing the news. It travelled through to the guests who stood by the river and a second shout of approval came from the river. From the riverbank the news travelled to the Alturans who crowded the streets and bridges.

  Miro exited the Crystal Palace to a mighty roar.

  Ella grinned when she saw that he couldn't stop smiling, and she only realised now the tension he'd been under when she saw how much its absence softened his face.

  She decided to leave him to his moment. This was his time, and she had important work to do in Mornhaven, where the future of the Empire depended on the new machines.

  Perhaps, sometime soon, she would also go to Seranthia.

  ~

  LATER, much later, Miro and Amber strolled along the riverbank, watching the ferry boats crossing the Sarsen and the students crossing Victory Bridge on their way to the Academy of Enchanters in their green woollen gowns.

  "Miro," Amber said. "I think you can give me a better honeymoon than that. The beach was very nice, but I'm not sure if the journey was enjoyable."

  Miro laughed, the sound filling the air as he roared. Finally he was able to speak. "Would having a second honeymoon make you feel guilty?"

  "Sometimes guilty pleasures are the best. We need to go to Seranthia for Killian's coronation anyway, what if we left a little early? Ella told me there's an incredible eating house that I'd really like to try. It's called Barlow's. Apparently they give you these little pastries before the meal, and at the end they give you handmade chocolates."

  "Sounds wonderful," Miro grinned. "Do they serve children?"

  "Apparently fish dishes are their specialty," Amber said, "although I'm sure you could ask for stewed child if you really wanted it."

  Miro laughed again. His wife was back.

  Amber grew serious. "Can I ask you something?"

  "Anything."

  "It's about Ella. She's always alone. Do you think she'll find someone?"

  "I sensed something between her and that man from the desert, Ilathor."

  "No." Amber shook her head. "She loves Killian."

  "I said something to her on the Infinity. About love." Miro stopped walking and took Amber's hand. "I told her how happy I am now that I've found you."

  Amber smiled and leaned forward, brushing Miro's lips with her own. "What did she say?"

  "She changed the subject, and spoke to me about essence and lore. She asked me about the Alchemists' Guild and the technology of the Veldrins."

  "That sounds like her," Amber said. "I said something to her too, you know."

  "What response did you get?"

  "She said she doesn't have time for love."

  Epilogue

  ELLA again travelled alone, back the way she'd come long ago when she'd left Evrin on a journey that started with her brother's wedding and took her to Seranthia, Ku Kara, Stonewater and the nightmare world of Shar.

  Summer was moving into autumn, and the road from Sarostar to Mornhaven was crowded with men and women hauling carts bearing the fruits of the harvest. Ella again passed the inscription bearing her brother's name, running her hand over it and smiling. More than once she overheard locals discussing the new Emperor, the nephew of the old one, a man reputed to possess incredible powers.

  This time Ella saw the nine-pointed star flown from buildings in both Altura and Halaran. There was hope in people's eyes and food in their bellies. The rulers of the nine houses were working together for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Each voice was equal, and all would be heard.

  Ella saw the peaks of the Ring Forts long before she saw Mornhaven. She was glad now they'd chosen this place. When the essence flowed, it would flow from here, the mid-point of the Empire, bringing it quickly to those who needed it. The Ring Forts would provide the best possible protection, and the machines' location in the catacombs deep beneath afforded a second level of defence.

  Ella arrived at Mornhaven, passing several checkpoints and immediately heading to the tunnel. She found Evrin Evenstar scratching his head and looking at the gaping mouth of the harvesting plant.

  Nearby was a wheeled handcart filled to the brim with black lignite. The rare ore was dug up all over the Empire. Now it was being sent to this place.

  "Ah, my dear," Evrin said without turning around, "I've been waiting for you. I expected you tomorrow."

  "How did you know I was coming?" Ella said.

  "News travels fast. I'm pleased to hear your brother's son is well. You were at his inauguration. I knew you would come here next."

  "Why were you waiting for me?"

  Ignoring her, Evrin called out to half a dozen men entering the massive chamber. "Quickly now. Don't dawdle. Come on, you know what to do."

  Ella's eyes widened when she recognised the white robes, and the symbol of a black sun on the breast. "Templars!"

  "They know how to do this best," Evrin said. "They're good men. The first is Felyan and the second is Maurix. I've forgotten the names of the others."

  "Enchantress," one of the templars bowed, the others following suit.

  "Come on," Evrin said, "hurry up. We don't have all day."

  "Yes, Skylord."

  "And don't call me that! My name is Evrin. Come on, load it up."

  The six templars rolled the handcart towards the massive entry port of the harvesting plant, finally disappearing inside. When they came out, their hands were black from handling the lignite.

  The energy of a million blades of grass was pent in each lump of black ore, waiting for the magical machines to unlock its potential.

  "Now go and stand over there." Evrin said to the templars, pointing. "Further! If it explodes you'll be better off against the wall."

  Ella looked at Evrin in alarm, but his twinkling eyes told her he was jesting.

  "Why have you been waiting for me?" Ella repeated.

  "Why, because I thought you might like to do this. You deserve it, Ella. Without your help we would still be a year away from completion. Now, tell me something, do you know that rune over there? The one with the triple whorl and the inverted bridge..."

  Ella walked over to the harvesting plant. "I know it."

  "What does it mean?"

  "Loosely translated, it means 'awaken'."

  "Fitting, don't you think? Say the rune,
Ella. Speak it loud."

  "Alitas," Ella said softly.

  "No, loud! Say it so the world can hear. When you speak, all of the machines will become alive. Let the world know!"

  "Alitas!" Ella shouted.

  The symbol Evrin had pointed to flared up with emerald light. The colour travelled from rune to rune, sending prismatic colours scattering across the walls of the huge cave. A rumbling noise came from the harvesting plant, and the ground began to shake. Ella could hear nearby hisses and hoots from the extraction system, and a sizzling sound like lightning from the distant refinery.

  "Thank you, Skylord," one of the templars said, "for allowing us to be present at this historic moment."

  All of the templars bowed in Evrin's direction.

  "I told you not to call me that!" Evrin said.

  Ella watched, filled with awe, as the work of nearly three years bore fruition, barely noticing as another cart of lignite was brought into the chamber.

  The lignite would enter here, at the harvesting plant. It wouldn't become a liquid until the substance was taken through the extraction system, and only at the refinery would essence come into being.

  Essence would allow drudges to till the earth and haul goods from one land to another. Pathfinders would shine, heating stones would warm, and timepieces would count the seconds.

  But there was more.

  Nightshades would come from the forest, the tree warriors bearing the power of nature itself in their gnarled limbs.

  Avengers would twist and slash, scattering their enemies with a flail in one arm and a black sword grafted to the other.

  Colossi would make the earth tremble beneath their massive forms.

  Elementalists would call forth walls of fire.