Forgotten Ages (The Complete Series)

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Also, the authors all decided he was quite faithful to her.”

  Tikaya made a face at the books in her hands. Maybe she didn’t want to read them after all, not if they included passages of Rias waxing nostalgic on his distant wife. Well, she had asked.

  “They’re just stories, of course,” Iweue said. “They show him as a noble and honorable man, but a tricky one as well. The tactics he pursued to keep his men safe and outthink—and sometimes utterly destroy—the enemy were often cunning, sometimes unorthodox and… Let’s just say it’s clear he would be perfectly capable of fooling someone, even an intelligent someone, and it wouldn’t be any fault of hers if she fell for his tricks.”

  Just when Tikaya had thought Iweue might prove a supporter of Rias. She did not lift her gaze from the books when she asked, “Are you saying you believe Parkonis’s interpretation of events, after all?”

  “No, Tikaya, just that you should proceed with wariness. If the man still feels loyal to his emperor…”

  “He doesn’t. The reason he’s here, that he was ever in trouble to start with, was because he refused to cross certain lines for that beast. Emperor Raumesys’s mistakes are the rest of the world’s gains. Rias won’t return to him—he was offered that opportunity already and refused it. We could have him if the president would get back here, call off the College and ministers, and talk to him.”

  “Have him? Are you suggesting we start a permanent naval force?”

  “He can do more than order boats around,” Tikaya said dryly. “I’m actually here to speak to you about something he’s building and to ask… are you still Making?” Tikaya hadn’t noticed any tools littering the house the way they did her grandfather’s workshop. What if this trip had been for naught?

  “Now and then. It takes a lot out of me, and there are younger folks with as much knowledge, and they have new ideas.”

  But none of them had a reason to help Rias. “Rias needs something more compact than a boiler and furnace to power the ship he’s building.”

  “Does he now?” Iweue stroked her chin and glanced at the shelf—perhaps imagining some ship she’d had a role in building being mentioned in a future novel. “That would be… a great deal of work, but interesting work. It’s been some time since I Made an energy source for powering more than well pumps and irrigation systems. I believe I could do it, but I’ll need at least a week of uninterrupted work time.”

  “Are you willing to undertake the task?”

  “I might be, in exchange for something of value.”

  Tikaya had little money and hated the idea of asking her family for coin, especially given that nobody seemed to want her and Rias to end up together, but she’d figure out a way. She owed him… more than she could ever repay. “Such as?” Tikaya prompted.

  “I want a ride.”

  Tikaya almost dropped the stack of books. “A what?”

  “I want a ride on the ship when it’s done.”

  The submarine, Tikaya thought, but she wasn’t about to admit to that. By the time they were ready to take on passengers that secret would be out regardless.

  “I’m sure I can arrange that.” She smiled and added, “I know the captain, after all.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Wooden surfboards rattled in a long, bamboo carrying cart attached to the back of Ell’s bicycle. He rode ahead of Rias and Tikaya, leading the way to “entirely excellent waves.” He’d invited himself along on the lava-sight-seeing trip, and Tikaya wasn’t pleased about it, not when she still wondered if someone had hired or otherwise coerced Ell into spying on them. After inquiring amongst numerous family members who lived in the house, Tikaya had learned nothing about who placed the padlock on the attic trapdoor, only that nobody knew anything about it. Mother had seemed bewildered and suggested that perhaps Grandpa had done it to keep the grandchildren from climbing up and hurting themselves on the old fishing gear. Unlikely timing, that.

  “You’re going to adore surfing, Rias,” Ell called over his shoulder.

  Rias’s only response was to exchange glances with Tikaya. When he’d shown up at her door at dawn for their “date,” he’d been wearing a hollow bamboo tube on his back, one typically used for carrying artwork or maps. Whatever he had planned for the day, it had little to do with water sports.

  “You have to learn anyway, if you’re going to design boards,” Ell added.

  As if that were his top priority. Tikaya shook her head at her cousin’s back. She and Rias had been strolling to the bicycle shed when Ell had come racing down the path toward them, having apparently spent the night at the house. He’d asked where they were going, because he’d been planning to talk Rias into a surfing lesson that afternoon. When Tikaya had attempted to quell him with a succinct, “We’re going on a date,” he’d failed to be quelled and simply asked where. When Rias had mentioned the lava cliffs, Ell had clapped, proclaiming the waves there perfect, so he could come along and give Rias a lesson that very day.

  “The East Coast isn’t a beginner area,” Tikaya said. She didn’t want to see Rias smashed against the rocks for his trouble.

  “I know safe spots. I’ll take care of Rias. Besides, he looks like a born athlete. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  “He hasn’t seen me swim,” Rias told Tikaya.

  “I’ve seen you swim. Amidst burning shards of wood from ships you’ve recently crashed.”

  “I can wave my arms in the correct motions, but I’m not a natural. My tendency is toward sinking.”

  “If you humor him for an hour, maybe he’ll leave us alone.” And if he didn’t… that would suggest Tikaya was right in suspecting Ell, and that she’d have to figure out a way to question him. The idea of interrogating a relative didn’t appeal, so she pushed the thought aside for later contemplation. She nodded toward the basket on the back of Rias’s bicycle—it held a picnic hamper and the bamboo case. “Is the map you copied in there?”

  “Yes, and some modern ones from your physical oceanography department. I pored over them last night and have some ideas on—”

  “We’re here,” Ell announced, dropping his feet to the ground.

  Only the fact that they’d been pedaling uphill kept Tikaya from crashing into the surfboard cart. She cast another exasperated look at her cousin’s back and looked for something to lean her bicycle against. There wasn’t much. The ground was nothing but black lava rock, and only a few scrubby clumps of grass grew from pockets of dirt in the crevices. Below the road, waves broke against the fifty-foot-high cliffs. They curved inward, forming an inlet, but most of the action was out in the open sea. Despite the early hour, dozens of surfers straddled their boards, waiting for waves beyond Obsidian Hollow, the name for a stretch of black sand beach at the beginning of the cliffs. A steep path wound down to it in switchbacks. Other bicycles and two runabouts were parked near the trail sign.

  “Excellent.” Rias hopped off his bicycle and took a few steps toward a point overlooking the inlet.

  “The trail down is over there.” Ell pointed at the sign.

  Rias paused. “I wish to see the sights first. Is this where the live lava spills into the sea?”

  “Yes.” Tikaya doubted he had any interest in the lava, but went along so they could fool Ell. “There are numerous spots along the cliffs. All sorts of caves dot the walls too,” she added. “There are outfits that lead tours out here for visitors. They usually end up at Squall Lodge on the other end of the cliffs. There are hot springs with mineral baths that supposedly have restorative properties.”

  Now Ell sported the exasperated expression. “Really, ’Kaya? Mineral baths? That’s where old people go. I know he’s got a few years on you, but I don’t see a cane.”

  “I do have a few old war wounds that act up from time to time.” Rias smiled. “Are these mixed-sex, clothing-optional baths?”

  “Actually they’re clothing-prohibited baths,” Tikaya said. “It’s quite the romantic spot. I went out there once with—ah, I visited on
ce briefly.”

  Rias’s eyebrow twitched.

  “They’re romantic if you’re old.” Ell gave Tikaya a was-your-brain-damaged-during-your-kidnapping look. “And don’t mind seeing the wrinkly old bodies of the patrons. Let’s go surf.” Ell waved to the sea.

  “I will shortly,” Rias said. “I simply wish to see the lava.”

  “It’s boring,” Ell said. “Drip, smoke, drip, smoke.”

  “Yes, but I’m fascinated by volcanology, specifically the ways in which one might tap geothermal reservoirs as a source of energy. My people have drilled around the Kraftar Geysers on our mainland, finding liquid magma a hundred meters deep, and scientists posit that natural heat could be employed similarly to that which we gain from burning coal. We could power our steam machinery and warm homes in the winter without having to mine for fuel. Given our current reliance on coal stoves and hypocaust systems, such an efficient energy source would prove a great boon.”

  Ell stared as Rias spoke. At the end, he shrugged his shoulders helplessly at Tikaya. “What are you supposed to do when he goes on like that? Nod? Grunt?”

  “I’ve found that he appreciates it when you listen in enraptured appreciation and ask questions at the end.”

  “Enraptured what?” Ell blinked a few times, then shrugged again. “I’ll be in the water. Give me a wave when you’re done sightseeing and you’re ready to have some fun.”

  “Hm,” Tikaya said when Ell had pedaled out of hearing. “I didn’t know you could sound so passionate about something in which you have no interest.”

  “Not no interest,” Rias said, resuming his walk toward the point. “Just little interest right now.”

  Tikaya caught up with him, wishing she’d worn something sturdier than sandals as she picked her way over the uneven black rock. The former lava fields were mostly level, but they were littered with hardened ripples, buckles, and fissures. “I was moderately certain you hadn’t brought me up here to watch plops of lava fall out of a tube.”

  “No.” Rias extended a hand to help her across a wide crack. “Though I appreciate your willingness to listen in enraptured appreciation no matter what the subject.”

  “That’s what lovers do.”

  “That… hasn’t been my experience.”

  “That must be why you came looking for me.” Tikaya stopped a few feet from the edge of the cliff. Warm wind, misty with sea spray, gusted down the coast, tugging at her long braid and ruffling the hem of her dress.

  Rias strode up to the precipice and peered over the edge. “I wasn’t looking exactly; you were just conveniently placed in an adjoining cell.”

  “But you would have looked for me if you’d known I existed, right?”

  “Oh, yes.” Rias removed the stopper from the hollow bamboo case and pulled out a rolled map. “Had I known the Kyattese cryptanalyst decoding our secret messages was a beautiful woman, I would have started sending encrypted letters of adoration along with our secret missives.”

  Tikaya choked on the idea, imagining how bewildered she would have felt deciphering something like that. “That wouldn’t have gone over well in the war room.”

  Rias grew silent after that, head bent as he studied his map. The wind whipped at the corners, trying to tear it from his hands, but he didn’t seem to notice. Tikaya knelt at the edge of the precipice, eyeing the cliffs as well as the dark blue waters beyond. Of course, nothing of the missing basin was visible from the surface. The old bathymetric maps had shown it nearly a mile off the coast and hundreds of feet deep. What Rias hoped to find in these cliffs she didn’t know.

  Tikaya returned to his side and considered the flapping parchment in his hands. The map displayed ocean currents around the main island.

  “I’m prepared to listen in enraptured appreciation any time you’re ready to share,” Tikaya said.

  Rias smiled though he continued studying the map. “Am I correct in assuming all of those caves down there have been thoroughly explored? And that archaeologists would have long since removed any significant findings?”

  “That’s likely, yes.”

  Rias returned the map to the tube. A few other papers were rolled up inside. “I want to look anyway.”

  “Look at what?”

  “A hunch.”

  “About what? And based on what?” Tikaya asked.

  “About… things.” He must have seen her prop her hands on her hips in exasperation, for he added, “Do you remember me mentioning a search algorithm I worked out based on tides, currents, prevailing winds, and the like?”

  Mostly she remembered Yosis zapping him with the bracelet when he started talking about it. “Something for finding wrecks, wasn’t it?”

  “Wrecks, yes, and perhaps significant amounts of flotsam and jetsam.”

  “Like you said, anything in those caves would have been discovered long ago.”

  But Rias was already returning to the bicycle. He opened the picnic hamper and pulled out climbing gear. Two lanterns and an oilskin pouch followed. What’d he have in the pouch? Matches?

  “I thought you had a romantic picnic lunch for us in there,” Tikaya said.

  “Not this time. This way,” Rias said cheerfully as he passed her, a coil of rope slung over his shoulder and a bag of jangling metal appurtenances in one hand.

  “You’re going down to the caves?” Tikaya jogged after him.

  “I thought we might go down. There are only a couple I want to check out.”

  Tikaya couldn’t bring herself to tell him that her last climbing experience—the one that had seen her poisoned by a giant practitioner-controlled bird-of-prey—hadn’t left her enamored of the sport. Not when the adventurous wink he threw over his shoulder told her how much the prospect excited him. She wouldn’t dampen his spirits.

  Rias walked nearly a half mile along the cliff tops before dropping to his belly and peering over the side. Tikaya checked to see if they’d be in view from the surfing area, should they drop a rope and descend. They didn’t need to give Ell any fodder, in case he was indeed reporting back to someone, perhaps the same someone who had been removing clues all week, someone who might find it suspicious that Rias had chosen this particular spot for his sightseeing picnic. Tikaya couldn’t see most of the surfers and hoped most of them couldn’t see her.

  “Let’s check this one first.” Rias opened the bag and dumped rope and hooks for creating rappelling harnesses, as well as a number of bolts and a drill.

  “Who outfitted you with climbing gear?” Tikaya asked, amused by how easily he seemed to be navigating these foreign waters and acquiring what he needed.

  “Someone in town who takes visiting botanists into the rainforest on the west side of the island.”

  “Turgonian?”

  “A native but a mongrel half-breed, according to him.” Rias finished drilling bolts, attached the rope to them, and tossed the end over the edge. He’d created seats for himself and Tikaya. He helped fasten hers around her waist and between her legs, an awkward proposition given that she wore a dress, then hooked her to the rope. “Use that hand to brake. The other’s your guide.”

  “Got it. How many people are working on your ship today while you’re off sightseeing?”

  “Eight. But we’re not constructing anything yet, simply forming the pieces that will become the hull and bulkheads in the steel mill. Ready?”

  “After you.”

  In a few bounds, Rias found his way down the cliff to a ledge. It protruded from one side of a cave opening a couple of feet above the water. He must have timed this exploration to match up with a low tide.

  Tikaya removed her sandals and eased over the edge. With her hands gripping the ropes like vises, she inched down the cliff.

  “Loosen your braking hand if you want to go faster,” Rias called up.

  “No, no, it’s fine. I like this pace.”

  Several seagulls glided past, one squawking at her. Yes, she wagered she put on quite a show as she inched her way down the cli
ff. Several minutes later, she reached the ledge.

  “Sorry,” Tikaya said, because Rias was waiting outside the cave, no doubt watching to see if he needed to assist her. “Given my propensity for tripping on land, I view scaling and descending cliffs as something that should be done slowly and carefully.”

  “There’s no hurry.” Rias unfastened her from the rope. “We’re on a leisurely date, remember?”

  “Ah, yes.” Tikaya crinkled her nose as the scent of sea lion droppings drifted out of the cave before them. “For some reason, I’d forgotten.”

  Daylight slanted into the cave, gleaming against damp black walls. Inside, the crinkles and buckles exhibited in the field above had largely been eroded by the ocean’s constant influence. A channel of seawater flowed in and out with the tides, filling a large pool. No wider than three feet, the ledge they stood upon followed the waterway on one side, eventually disappearing into the shadows. The black walls made even the lighted area near the cave mouth feel dark and ominous. Nonsense, Tikaya told herself. Ten-year-old children played in these caves, especially the ones close to Obsidian Beach. She had nothing to fear beyond stubbing a toe on a rock and falling into the water.

  “What are we looking for?” she asked.

  “It’s unlikely that we’ll find anything, but I estimate that these three caves—” he waved to include theirs as well as others to the north, “—would be depositories of any flotsam that might have come ashore from the southern end of that basin.”

  “You think there’s a shipwreck out there? One those Turgonian explorers came looking for three hundred years ago?” Tikaya thought of Rias’s story of lost colonizing ships.

  “Something happened out there. Something that’s kept generations of mapmakers from being allowed to accurately report their depth findings.”

  “Maybe the basin was filled in somehow. Why are you assuming there’s a wreck? Did you find something in that journal?” Tikaya had wanted to ask earlier, but had dared not with Ell riding nearby. “Some clue about all this?” She recalled that Rias had suggested their “date” before he’d had a chance to see the book. What did he think would lie in the depths of these caves? And how far back did this one go? A long ways, she supposed, since it had originally carried lava flows. In theory, it could extend miles, all the way to the volcano itself. These particular caves were tens of thousands of years old, though, and time had likely brought down ceilings and blocked passages.