by Ben Chandler
As the official stepped to the head of the procession, the captain allowed the ambassadors from Lahmon and Ellia to move to the front. ‘The prince?’ he whispered as they were led to a nearby tower.
Missy started. Had the captain expected her to know something about the Ostian royal family, or did he suspect Missy’s telepathy was strong enough that she could read the official’s mind? She remembered the times she had tried to see what Captain Shishi was thinking, and how the way he kept his thoughts vague made it seem as though he was intentionally trying to block her out. Missy wondered how much the captain knew, or at least suspected, about her and her brother’s powers.
‘Alexis Greygori,’ Missy replied without moving her lips. ‘About twelve years old.’ She hesitated and then decided she might as well tell him everything she had seen in the official’s mind. ‘He suffers from what the Ostians are calling the “Royal Disposition”. The official fears it is the same illness that killed Alexis’s two older brothers and keeps the King in bed. He’s nervous because only King Yolseph’s male heirs get sick.’ They entered the tower and started down a hall carpeted in crimson. ‘He has several daughters and they’re all fine. The official thinks it might be a curse.’
‘An indisposed King and a sickly heir ... Keep careful watch, Miss Clemens.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Did he mean with more than just her eyes? It was infuriating, not knowing what the captain was thinking, or if he knew how gifted the Clemens twins were. She took a peek into his mind, but his thoughts were shrouded in their usual vagueness.
Missy turned her attention to their surroundings. Portraits lined the walls and she assumed the grim men they represented were dead Greygori monarchs. Between the portraits hung banners of crimson, like the carpet, embroidered with the three-star design of the Ostian royal family. Each of the stars represented one of the major cities of Ost: Asheim, Kaltheim, and Vanaesir.
The group of ambassadors stopped before a set of doors that were three times the height of the guards who stood in front of them. Each guard carried a steel pike topped with a curved blade. Their red uniforms also bore the three-star motif. As the group of emissaries approached, the guards crossed their weapons in front of the doors. At a curt nod from the Ostian official, the guards stood to attention, unblocking the way. With a flourish that sent his robe swirling, their guide pushed open the doors to reveal a wide, circular room. This was also carpeted, but the walls were bare.
As Missy was looking for another door, the ones behind her closed with an echoing thud. She jumped and spun around, but there was nowhere left for her to go.
‘Please, brace yourselves.’ Their guide pulled a long lever set in the floor beside the door.
As Missy began translating this for the captain the floor suddenly moved upwards, causing her to bite her tongue. Familiar as she was with this rising sensation from her time on airships, the unexpected rush made her dizzy. From somewhere behind the walls came the sounds of gears turning and the low thrumming of a Bestia-powered machine. This, of course, was one of the lifts Yami had told them about.
Just as she was getting used to the sensation, the lift came to a stop and Missy fell forward. The captain caught her before she could fall too far, and she smiled in thanks as she righted herself.
‘This way, if you please.’ The Ostian official opened another set of enormous doors with an even more elaborate flourish. They swung open noiselessly and gave the party a view of the palace. Missy had half-expected to see towers topped with spires rising into the heavens, but instead she saw a squat, square building of dull stone and yet another ceiling above them. So, they were not yet at the highest point of the city, which must have been just above them. It frustrated Missy immensely that they had come all this way yet were not going to be allowed to visit the highest reaches. Perhaps what Yami had told them was true, and only those of royal blood were allowed on the summit.
‘His Highness, the Crown Prince Alexis Greygori, awaits.’ The official bowed so that the sleeves of his robe brushed the floor. He straightened and led them towards the ugly building. It was the only structure on this level, save for the towers that supported the level above them.
The shuffling footsteps of the delegates echoed through the empty space between the ceiling, the circle of towers that held it up, and the fortress that crouched in the middle. There were no guards on this floor. In fact, aside from the emissaries and their guide, the place was deserted. Missy felt uneasy. The hairs on the back of her neck refused to settle and she found herself looking around, worried that something would leap out at her from behind one of the towers.
They reached the doors of the fort-like structure and their guide ushered them inside. Missy shivered as she walked under the portal, feeling suddenly cold. The other delegates had stopped and Missy nearly walked into the captain’s back. She peered over shoulders and between elegantly dressed figures. Her eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the creature kneeling before them, baring its fangs at the intruders. She clutched at Captain Shishi’s sleeve.
The captain chuckled. ‘It is a statue, Miss Clemens.’
Missy took another peek and was relieved to see that she was not the only one the statue had surprised. The Lahmonian ambassador had taken several steps back and was clutching at his chest, and the Ellian translator had thrown himself in front of his superior.
The Ostian official swept past them and placed his arm around the creature’s shoulder. ‘Forgive me, dear guests. I could not resist teasing you all a little. This is a statue of one of the Familiars bonded to the Greygori family. This was the first one, in fact, and it is said that the first Greygori king gained so much power from the bond that he was able to defeat the Dukes of Vanaesir and Kaltheim and unite Ost under his rule.’
The others were laughing good-naturedly, though the joke had been at their expense, and had moved forwards to examine the statue. Missy followed, translating the official’s words in an undertone. She was more interested in the statue, though, and the captain eventually waved her forward with a smile.
Familiar must mean Lilim, Missy reasoned. If it did, they were smaller than she would have imagined, no taller than herself. This one’s arms, legs, torso and head were all of human proportion, though perhaps the head was a little rounder, and the hands and feet a little too large. The face was most definitely inhuman, however, with no nose or mouth, and three round eyes arranged in the middle of its face in exactly the same design as the three-star insignia of the Greygori family. There were two sets of wings, thin and featherless, sprouting out of its back, and it had strange protrusions running down its calves.
The other delegates all marvelled at the detail and design of the statue, convinced, no doubt, that it was nothing more than the result of some sculptor’s imagination. Missy couldn’t help but think of Raikô’s statues in his temple in the Wastelands of Shinzô, and of the Quillblade curled inside her robe ...
It was gone! Missy froze, her thoughts turning inwards. When was the last time she had seen the shintai? The last time she remembered holding it was when she had used it to summon Raikô back in Gesshoku. She hadn’t had it since she’d woken up on the Hiryû. Why hadn’t she noticed it was missing before now? She hadn’t even thought about it since she’d escaped the Totem’s temple. She’d been too happy to be back and had, she now realised, wanted to forget all about the Thunder Bird.
Missy forced herself to calm down. There was nothing she could do about it now. The Quillblade had to be on the Hiryû. Unless she had dropped it on the wall of Gesshoku? No. Tenjin wouldn’t have left it back there. It was too important to him. She pushed the Quillblade from her mind to worry about later, once they had found what they were looking for here in Asheim.
She focused instead on the statue again. Missy wondered if it could be a shintai, like her Quillblade. If so, it could still possess some of the power of the Lilim it was supposed to
represent. Lenis would be able to tell her if there was any power in the stone, but he wasn’t here. Not knowing heightened her unease.
Eventually, the Ostian official urged them on again and, passing under another portal, the delegates found themselves in a poorly lit hall, empty except for row upon row of demonic statues leading up to a wide dais. The whispering amongst the foreigners stopped and Missy wondered if everyone felt as intimidated as she did. Every perfectly carved line of these stone beings seemed to tell her that they were no mere effigies but living beings waiting to do something terrible to whomsoever they desired.
Lilim, Missy reminded herself. Not Demons. Lilim.
She remained unconvinced. The atmosphere of the greeting chamber was more like that of a crypt than a royal audience hall. The thought occurred to her that every one of these statues represented a Lilim bonded to a Greygori, and that the sinister statues were actually tombstones erected to a long line of deceased Greygorian royalty. Each one was different. Some had multiple sets of wings, others had none, or only one. Some had features reminiscent of birds, or tigers, or bears. Still others bore no resemblance to any living thing Missy had ever seen. Some had multiple eyes, or noses, or mouths, or ears, or arms, or legs, or tails, or ... the sheer diversity was staggering. Were these actual living things, or had their sculptors in fact taken liberties in their creation? Had their features been exaggerated, or was this what the Lilim were truly like?
Lenis had told Missy about Bakeneko. A cat, he had said, only it was somehow like a human. And that was the most disturbing thing of all. Missy could detect traces of humanity in every statue she examined. Whether it was in the cast of their eyes, the expressions on their twisted faces, or the way they carried themselves, each stone Lilim looked in some way human. As the delegates moved silently down the crimson carpet that ran the length of the hall, only Captain Shishi seemed unaffected by this army of malevolence and its intimidating presence. It was as if he were a statue and the demonic Lilim that surrounded him were nothing more than the wind, lacking any power over his indomitable form.
They walked on for some time, slowly, as if they were all afraid a sudden movement would rouse these terrible sentinels from their slumber.
The dais drew steadily closer. Sitting on the throne of ruby-studded gold that topped it, draped in luxurious robes of crimson and white, sat a slender, pale-skinned youth. The same boy Missy had seen in the Ostian official’s mind. On his head, and looking far too heavy for his frail frame, was the Ostian crown set with three star-shaped diamonds. Around his neck hung a blue, oblong crystal on a silver chain. Even from this distance Missy could see how ill Alexis Greygori was. Next to him stood an old, thin man in a crimson robe that looked no less opulent than the prince’s.
Suddenly, Missy became aware of a whispered conversation coming from the throne. As she strained her ears to hear she realised it was not a conversation at all, but rather a telepathic stream of instructions delivered to the prince by the old man at his side.
... drasil Project. Greet our visitors politely, Prince Alexis, but say only what I tell you to, and do not answer any questions. Your poor mother is so worried about you. We wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself.
He went on in this fashion until the ambassadors had reached the bottom of the dais.
‘Welcome to Asheim.’ The prince’s voice was squeaky as it echoed the old man’s mental orders. ‘The people of Ost give their thanks for your continued consideration and support during our festival to commemorate the sacrifices made during the Battle of Asheim. We hope that you ...’
The telepathic link between the prince and the old man was fascinating. It was nothing like Bestia communication. It was more like ... Missy shuddered. It was more like what she could do. But that wasn’t possible. She’d never met anyone who could do what she did.
As Alexis went on, Missy watched his sunken face with a growing sense of unease. Though his lips moved, the rest of his face, indeed, the rest of his body, showed no signs of animation at all. She had the disturbing notion that the whole scenario being played out before them was some dreadful puppet show, with the old man by the prince’s side playing the role of puppet master. She wished her brother was with her.
Once the prince had finished parroting the old man’s words, the Ellian ambassador stepped forward and, with the help of his translator, gave his people’s best wishes to the Kingdom of Ost. Captain Shishi cleared his throat and, with a start, Missy began translating for him.
Then it was the Lahmonian’s turn. While he was speaking, the old man beside the prince nodded along, saying nothing but telepathically feeding the prince the words he needed. Alexis’s responses were a disturbing mimicry of his own earlier replies to the Ellian ambassador. Missy pulled her awareness back from the old man’s stream of telepathic commands, suddenly realising that if she could hear him, he might be able to hear her too.
Finally it was Captain Shishi’s turn, and Missy noticed the old man lean forward eagerly as he was introduced to the ambassador from Shinzô, showing more interest in the captain than in any of the other emissaries. Missy watched him intently as Captain Shishi began his introductions, not daring to risk scanning his mind in case he felt her doing so.
‘Furthermore,’ the captain said once he had finished the preliminaries, ‘we have brought with us the venerable scholar, Lord Tenjin of Kami clan.’
The prince looked to the old man beside him.
The old man spoke for the first time. His voice was rasping, as though he rarely used it. Missy wondered if he always communicated telepathically. Was that common here? Were there more telepaths in Asheim, or was this old man special like her? ‘We have heard the name of the great Kami Tenjin, even this far to the north. Tell me, what brings so revered a man as the Imperial Records Keeper of Shinzô to Ost during our time of remembrance?’
The captain turned from the prince. ‘Of course, Lord ...’
‘Butin,’ the old man supplied.
‘Lord Butin. Lord Tenjin has been assigned to the Hiryû as its official records keeper. I am afraid it is nothing more than his duty to Lord Shôgo that brings him here. However ...’
‘Yes?’
Missy noted that Lord Butin had a habit of licking his lips, like a reptile.
Captain Shishi nodded his head, as if in embarrassment. ‘Our records keeper has expressed an interest in perusing the royal vault while he has the good fortune to be in Asheim. I did not wish to ask, but Lord Tenjin has been of such service to Shinzô that I did not like to refuse him the relaying of so simple a request.’
‘The royal vault?’
It seemed to Missy that the air shimmered, as if in a great heat, and the already poor light dimmed further.
‘A dreadful imposition, I am aware.’ The captain bowed. ‘It seems Lord Tenjin has discovered that a member of the royal family of Ost once travelled through Shinzô on a pilgrimage, three or four centuries ago. This royal guest is reported to have kept a diary of his adventures and Lord Tenjin wishes to –’
Lord Butin waved the captain to silence, and then spoke in his scratchy voice. ‘Out of the question, I am afraid. All such artefacts are kept in the royal vaults. Lord Tenjin is most probably aware that certain chambers have always been open to the public so that they could admire the wealth of the Greygori family. Unfortunately, during a recent tour of the public areas someone broke into the sealed chambers where the royal family keeps its most valuable treasures, and we have since closed the vaults completely. Fortunately, nothing was stolen and the thieves were apprehended, but I am sure you understand that opening the vaults now could afford the thieves an opportunity to try again.’
As Missy translated she hoped the captain would pick up on Lord Butin’s slip. He had said the thieves had been caught, and yet he was worried they would try again. Missy didn’t dare point it out in case someone in the audience chamber c
ould understand Shinzôn.
‘Of course, your eminence,’ Captain Shishi said smoothly. ‘I understand completely. As I said, I was loath to bring it up at all, but Lord Tenjin has served Shinzô so well and for so long that I felt obliged to pass on his request. We had heard nothing of this terrible crime in the south. I am so glad that you managed to capture the perpetrators.’
Lord Butin glanced at the prince, who sat staring over the heads of the delegates, paying no attention to anything that was being said. ‘Yes, it is fortunate they did not manage to steal anything. Now, why do we not retire to the feast we have prepared for you in front of the greeting chamber?’
The old man signalled to their guide and the Ostian official spun around and strode off down the hall. The Ellians and Lahmonians turned to follow.
‘Just a moment, Captain Shishi,’ Lord Butin called.
The others hesitated, but their Ostian guide urged them on. Missy shivered, her unease stronger than ever. She really wanted to try and see what the old man was thinking but was too afraid he would notice if she tried. The only evidence she’d had of his telepathy so far was his stream of orders to the prince, but she’d never met anyone else who could do even that much. What if he could do everything Missy could? What if he was even stronger?
Once the others had left, the prince slumped forward on the throne like a discarded puppet.
‘Lord Butin, I –’
‘Tell me, Captain Shishi,’ the old man wheezed, ‘however did you manage to steal the Hiryû from Warlord Shôgo’s own airdock?’
Missy gasped and spun around as dozens of soldiers in Ostian uniforms emerged from behind the statues.
As Lenis was climbing the gangplank he noticed that another airship had docked next to the Hiryû. This one was flying Ostian colours, though there was something decidedly odd about it. Lenis was halfway to his quarters before he realised what it was. He turned on his heel and ran to the bridge.