The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six)

by Rathbone, Brian

  It was a somber and tearful good-bye as Kyrien swam away from the dock. They did get to the see the three of them twice more before they left since Morif had asked Kyrien to retrieve the barges. Once those had been delivered, though, Kyrien wasted no time getting them to the far shore.

  Get off.

  Catrin laughed and shook her head when she realized that she and Prios would have to unstrap themselves and dismount for Kyrien to squeeze himself out of the cavern. When they dismounted, Catrin saw deep gouges in the walls of the entranceway where there had been none before. The dragon ore must have bitten into the granite, she concluded, and it was about to do so again.

  "Do you want us to take the saddle off?" Catrin asked Kyrien.

  No. I want to mark our passage in and out of this hold. I want people to remember.

  The result was a series of deep gashes in the entranceway walls that formed a diagonal checked pattern, which Catrin knew would be almost impossible to reproduce. This was, in as close an approximation as possible, Kyrien's signature.

  Leaving Dragonhold behind, Catrin wondered if she would ever see the place again. There was a feeling of finality in their departure that had her on edge, but she knew she'd done the right thing. Prios was with her now, and together they would bring Sinjin back. Kyrien gave a triumphant roar at that thought, and Prios gave her a squeeze, as if both had been reading her mind.

  Chapter 7

  Let our sails scrape the sky and rake the moon.

  --Aerestes, captain of the Landfinder

  * * *

  "I know you're angry, but would you please just listen to what I have to say for a moment?" The words left Jharmin Kyte like a sacrament, something uttered so many times, it had become ingrained and reflexive. Such were the arguments with his fiery wife, Lissa, intense and heated. After she stomped from the room, Jharmin ran his hand over the vase that rested nearby on a marble table supported by richly grained wood in natural shapes yet polished to a fine sheen. The vase was anything but smooth. Lines crossed its surface, and chunks of the ornate scene were missing completely. This was what had happened to every precious vase in his hold the last time Catrin had come up.

  Jharmin had commissioned chairs as a gift to Catrin and Prios on the birth of their son, but he'd never told Lissa. That had turned out to be a mistake since the chair maker's wife went out of her way to thank the Lady Lissa for the generous commission. The chairs had been worthy of royalty and had fetched a kingly sum. When he thought about it now, it was almost inevitable that Lissa would find out. This was exactly why he needed her to listen to him now. He did not want to repeat that mistake. She'd slept in the atrium for nearly a month.

  With a determined sigh, Jharmin went after Lissa, knowing that it was the lives of their people at stake, those around Wolfhold and those around Ravenhold. Jharmin preferred to remain within Wolfhold since it was the seat of his power, though it didn't please Lissa much. If he stayed in Ravenhold for any period of time, he knew he would appear weak, and that was something they simply could not afford. Lissa knew it as well, but she didn't want to admit it.

  Anything that related to Lissa's cousin, Catrin, was likely to raise her ire, and there was nothing Jharmin could do about that. Even with his personal feelings aside, Catrin was a powerful ally, and allies were exactly what they needed most. Thorakis had gained control of much of the Greatland under the guise of a savior. He'd brought food to many people, Jharmin conceded, but at a high price. All of the men and boys had been conscripted into his armies and forced to build more aqueducts, which meant more food, more water, and more people under Thorakis's control. The man had not yet shown his dark side, but the time was coming; Jharmin could feel it.

  When he found Lissa, she was in the war room and looking at the representation he'd had created of Thorakis's system of aqueducts. Depending on how you viewed these structures, they could be seen as defensive barriers to keep out brigands and thieves, which was how Thorakis described them. But Jharmin saw something far more sinister.

  "You're right," Lissa said without looking up, her fingers running along the miniature aqueducts. They looked like a giant claw inexorably reaching toward Wolfhold and Ravenhold. If you looked at the aqueducts as roads, then the intent became clear. These structures could act as supply chains from a nearly unlimited food source: the fishery at Riverhold. Already they knew that the open channels were used to float barrels and other large goods outward from Riverhold. Why could they not be used to transport troops? "When Thorakis shows his true face, we're doomed."

  Jharmin felt no joy in the admission, though moments such as this had been few in his marriage. Given the rumors he'd been hearing about black dragons and armies of demons, it seemed clear that Thorakis would reveal his true might sooner rather than later.

  "There's no strength around us, no one else to align ourselves with, save Madra, but she has her own lands to try and hold on to. Our situation is untenable." Lissa spoke the words coldly with only brief glimpses of emotion through the cracks in her facade.

  Jharmin knew Lissa possessed a kind but heavily guarded heart that had been broken too many times. Circumnavigating those defenses had taken him years, and still he caught only occasional glimpses of her true feelings. She was a challenge, his wife, but she was no fool.

  "If we're right about Thorakis, then I don't see how our people will stand against him. It would seem they'd be better off to serve him than to die fighting for us."

  Jharmin knew this wasn't true, and he knew she didn't believe it, but he let his wife brood. It seemed a necessary part of the process.

  "I don't want her to come here," Lissa finally said, her back stiff and her eyes boring into the map, steadfastly refusing to look at Jharmin. "If she's to aid us, then she can do so by engaging Thorakis. That'll give us more time to prepare if she's defeated, and if she were to be victorious over Thorakis, then perhaps our debt will not be so great. I don't want to owe her anything, but I may have no choice."

  Jharmin did as he thought was best, and he stood, listening, waiting for her to say more, his mouth firmly anchored shut.

  "You may send her a message, but do not disgrace us, and offer no long-term alliance. Instead, simply make her aware of the situation, and let her decide if it's her desire to come to our aid. Ask nothing, and you will owe nothing."

  Given Lissa's feelings about Catrin, Jharmin knew this was a concession not easily granted, which did not speak well of their circumstances. Lissa knew as well as he that they had failed. And only the most powerful person in the world might be able to help them, provided she was willing. In some ways, they had both known it all along, for neither was without intelligence. Each had continued family traditions of maintaining spy networks. Jharmin suspected there were overlaps between the two networks, and it was part of the game to send as much disinformation as information. Jharmin would admit only to himself that Lissa was the greater spymaster, but he did his best to keep up.

  "My sources say that Catrin and her dragon abandoned those within Dragonhold. How will you get this message to her? No one knows where she has gone or why. And the poor people of the Godfist are not faring well at all in her absence, I'm afraid."

  Jharmin continued his silence. It was rare for Lissa to reveal so much of her intelligence, and he was amazed by not only the quality of her information, but the timeliness of it.

  "She left her husband and son behind," Lissa continued. "Which one do you think Thorakis will take?"

  "You don't think he'd really do that, do you?"

  "How else would you defend against her power?" Lissa asked, still not looking at him. "Even with Thorakis's seemingly unending supply of gold, it can buy no sufficient defense against her unnatural powers." This conversation seemed to require all the restraint she possessed. "I would take her son," she continued. "I've considered doing it in the past. It is the only thing that might keep her in check. No one should have so much capacity for wickedness and not be limited in some fashion. If she grows
too powerful and the world has no recourse, then she could be the death of us all."

  Jharmin tried not to push her over the edge but could not resist one more question. "How do you get your messages from the Godfist so quickly? Surely there are no birds so swift as that."

  Lissa finally turned to him and smiled. "The world is changing, my husband, but the one thing that hasn't changed is the need for me to have my secrets and the need for you to have yours. That being said, if you wish for me to send the message through my network, it will undoubtedly reach its destination sooner."

  Her smile didn't fade, and Jharmin smiled back. "Of course," he said, knowing full well that sending the message through her network would mean that she would know every word. In truth, she would know every word either way. Having her send the message worked to his advantage by making it clear he had nothing to hide. Still, he wished he knew how those messages traveled so fast. It seemed . . . unnatural.

  * * *

  Selling spoiled wine had become a lucrative business for Kevlin Weil. He and Hera made regular trips to Riverhold, though he'd been instructed to do it under the guise of trading other goods. Those who sold him the wine believed he'd learned some recipe that allowed him to make something delicious from it, but he wouldn't tell them what it was. It was a tenuous secrecy, and he did his best to keep his growing stash away from prying eyes. It was far better for him if everyone thought he was just barely getting by. Hera wore a new halter, though, and he had a few repairs done on his wagon, but even for those, he'd haggled as if the seller were taking his last coin. The most difficult part was finding people to give him silvers and coppers for his gold. If any of those he dealt with regularly knew he had gold, their prices would double. There were a few men who would discreetly handle such things for a price. It was a hefty price, but Kevlin had no more appealing options. Still, most of his gold remained stashed away. Someday soon he would take his new wealth south and buy a farm. There, he and Hera could live out their years in peace. That was all he really wanted.

  Trips to Riverhold had begun to feel almost normal; even the mighty, free-standing aqueducts that reached out from the keep like spider's legs seemed commonplace. That was when Kevlin knew the time for him to leave was rapidly approaching. Just a few more deliveries, and he could disappear. He had plenty of gold to bribe his way out of Riverhold and south with plenty left over to buy himself a comfortable future. Rarely did he deal with Grimwell these days, and rumors said Thorakis was not even within the hold, but Kevlin didn't want to become complacent. He'd been playing with hot coals for some time now; eventually he was going to get burned.

  The steward inspected his cargo ever so briefly, handed two gold coins to Kevlin, and ordered the cargo unloaded. Kevlin stood and watched, his hand casually sliding the gold coins into his purse, which he then slid back into concealment. It wasn't long before he and Hera were on their way back out of Riverhold, and Kevlin found it difficult to complain. It was, in fact, the easiest work he'd ever done. Perhaps that was why he distrusted it so much. The only way to make that much money with that little work was to be dishonest, he thought, and the number of secrets he was keeping attested to the fact. Again, though, he told himself it was only temporary and he'd soon leave all this behind. Soon he'd be free to live life by his own rules instead of the rules set down by one man, a man no one ever seemed to see.

  For most, the food in their bellies was enough; it was certainly better than the years after the Herald War. This seemed an improvement and a sign of progress, but Kevlin saw the price, and he was unwilling to pay. There were dark things lying under the surface, and he did not want to be around when those things reared their heads. Doing his best to appear downtrodden and beaten, Kevlin rode back into town, hoping no one noticed him. Becoming part of the scenery was among his more finely honed skills; it was something he'd learned long ago. If you look miserable enough, you won't be observed for long. This knowledge had served Kevlin well.

  When at last he returned to the place he called home, he put Hera in the only stall and climbed to his quarters above it. Reaching up, he ran his fingers along the top of the beam above his bed, found the recess he was looking for, and pried the wood loose. It was a tight-fitting lid that most would assume was solid wood. Inside the hidden compartment, his fingers found his stash of gold. It felt good in his hands, and he couldn't just add the new coins to the stash; he had to feel the coins in his hands. It shamed him to know such greed, but he could not resist. Never before had he held so much precious metal in his hands. He was now richer than even the traders and business owners who had always looked down on him. The coins shifted in his hands.

  Click, click, click, clack.

  Clack, click, click, click.

  Back and forth he moved the coins, and something bothered him more and more with every movement.

  One coin did not sound like the others.

  Kevlin could find no good reason for this, though along with a sinking feeling in his stomach, he could imagine some bad reasons--very bad reasons.

  The more he thought about it, the more Kevlin knew the time had come for him to leave. He said no good-byes, left no notes, and did his best to slip away from Riverhold unnoticed, hoping to be far away before everything came tumbling down.

  * * *

  Sculpting the wind, Catrin did what she could to increase their speed. Bolstered by the power of the saddle, she and Kyrien applied their wills. Prios rested and Catrin smiled, knowing that was what he needed most. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was wounded. The more time he had to recuperate, the better. He was stubborn but he wasn't stupid, and he took advantage of the opportunity to rest. Part of her was tempted to slow their progress just so he'd have more time to rest before they entered battle once again. But she was also frightened for Sinjin, so she did her best to aid their flight. Much of the time, Kyrien also rested while he flew, his eyes hooded and only a small part of his brain still active. He seemed able to hold a course while completely asleep, which amazed Catrin and also frightened her a little. Afraid to sleep while he slept, she was unable to trust his instincts as much as he did.

  When the black ships finally came into view, all three came to full awareness. Catrin's mind grew crowded as both of them communicated with her without speaking. With a thought, she silenced them and focused on the ships. She needed to identify the ship that held Sinjin, and that required complete concentration. His energy was muffled and weak, making him more difficult to locate. She wanted to see that gleaming beacon of life that was her son, but instead, what she finally found was a dull pulse, beaten, defeated. Her heart broke at the sensation of his loss, but Catrin now knew exactly where her son was.

  Clouds gathered around the Falcon Isles, which materialized beyond the black fleet. It would be easier to fight them in the water, and Catrin prepared herself for battle. Silently she instructed Kyrien and Prios to do the same. Both had already begun to do so.

  A cry split the relative silence, and Catrin saw one of the lookouts pointing toward them. Surprise was no longer theirs.

  The air pressure change was the only warning they had before dragons attacked from above. Kyrien dived steeply, leaving Catrin and Prios holding on and still straining against the harness. It was terrifying to feel as if you were going to be hurled into the open air at any time; the harness was strong, but even that would fail given enough force. As old as this saddle was, Catrin couldn't help but wonder if it would hold up under both their weight, though it showed no outward signs of stress.

  Prios, the less firmly secured of the two, was breathing heavily, and Catrin could see his tensed, white hands trembling. His panic was entirely understandable. Doing her best to breathe in deeply while she could, Catrin hoped to keep from blacking out. Huge claws raked past her face, and Kyrien banked hard into the clouds.

  Even within the turbulence and dismal visibility within the clouds, the ferals continued their attack. With what seemed complete disregard for their own safety, dragons dropp
ed through the clouds like stones, likely to kill themselves and their prey if they collided at such speed. One passed near where Kyrien flew, and Catrin's eyes met those of the dragon as it passed. Immediately, the feral unfolded itself and slowed its descent. Knowing they had been found, Kyrien gave Catrin and Prios a quick warning then tucked his wings and dived toward the ships. Attacks launched from those ships, and Catrin let the buffeting wind become their shield. Instead of working against it to make it match her vision of a shield, she asked the air to protect them, and it conformed to her intent. It took a great deal less energy, and Catrin barely felt the stings of those attacks.

  With their defenses easily maintained, Catrin concentrated again on locating Sinjin. The ships had been shifting and moving, and it took her a moment to find him. His light shone brighter now, and she cried at the thought of her son having hope from her presence. He would know now that she'd come for him, and he'd know how much she loved him.

  * * *

  Light and sudden movement brought Sinjin awake with a start. His aching body failed to respond when a voice shouted for him to move.

  "Thorakis has ordered them transferred to one of the dragons," a voice said from above.