Copper Chain (The Shifting Tides Book 3)

by James Maxwell

  ‘We are at war.’ The hunchback’s voice was gruff, his manner direct. ‘Your visit is welcome, but your vessel is far too valuable to us to let you go on your way.’

  Cob paled and glanced at Dion.

  ‘The king wants your ship,’ Kyphos continued. ‘We will take it by force if necessary, but we want to spare your crew. We would much rather have you work for us than kill you.’

  Dion swallowed. Gazing at the king and seeing the lines of concern on his forehead, he sensed that these people didn’t just want the ship – they were desperate to have it. He thought about his soldiers, hidden below decks. If Palemon tried to seize the Liberty, he would soon get an unpleasant surprise.

  ‘Why do you want it so badly?’ Dion asked.

  Palemon glared at him. ‘Let your captain speak.’ He strode directly to face Cob, towering over him, his expression grim. ‘Well, Cobrim? Is it to be surrender or death?’

  Undeterred, Dion pressed on. With every word he spoke, Cob turned a sicklier shade of gray. ‘Who are you? Where did you and your people come from?’

  ‘You are in no position to ask questions.’ Palemon’s eyes narrowed at Dion. ‘Are you a fool? Do you want to be the first to die?’

  Cob gaped, while Palemon stared down at the shorter man, waiting for a reply. The silence dragged out.

  Dion could almost see the thoughts crossing Cob’s face. Cob knew Dion wanted information, but he’d just been asked to surrender his ship, and an answer was expected. If he agreed to the demand, there would be fighting when they tried to seize the Liberty. If he said no, the outcome would be the same.

  As the tension grew, Dion took a breath and unfastened his silver necklace. Cob was staring at him and shaking his head, but Dion put the necklace in a pocket.

  Neither Palemon nor Kyphos realized the significance of what he’d done. Dion’s experiences with the Free Men had taught him to accept who he was, and now he could change his form with almost as much ease as a full-blooded eldran.

  Even so, sweat broke out on his forehead. He needed information, but if there was fighting, someone would die.

  He now addressed both the king and his companion. ‘You have given us a choice between life and death, but if we choose to serve you, we need to know what it is you’re asking.’

  Palemon hooked his thumbs in his belt. ‘You’re brave. I’ll give you that.’

  He scratched at his cheek and then came to a decision.

  ‘The sunken city out there, Aleuthea’—he nodded in the direction of the sea—‘was the homeland of my ancestors. When the eldran king Marrix destroyed Aleuthea, we fled to a frozen land, vowing one day to return. Since then, in honor of Palemon the First, who led us to safety, every ruler of my people has been given his name.’ His voice became low. ‘I am the direct descendant of the most powerful king the world has ever known.’

  Palemon met Dion’s eyes, daring him to challenge his claim.

  But Dion stayed silent. The evidence was in front of him, from the sophisticated armor to these people’s skin color, far too pale for these sunny lands. He now had the answer he’d sought. It remained to be seen what else he could learn before he and Cob were forced to fight their way free.

  ‘We made it home,’ Palemon continued, ‘but we left most of our people starving in that faraway land, so far north that all the land is ice. We will take your ship no matter what you do, but your crew would be useful to us; you have an opportunity to spare their lives. Now’—he turned back to Cob—‘make your choice.’

  ‘How many of your people are there?’ Dion asked. ‘Are their numbers low enough to fit on this one ship?’

  ‘No,’ Palemon said shortly.

  ‘Then what use is one ship when you need a fleet?’

  ‘He speaks sense,’ a new voice said.

  Dion turned in surprise, seeing a woman approaching from the back of the audience chamber. She had a tall wooden staff in her hand, crowned with a hand-sized hoop of solid gold, but she was far too young to need it for support. More striking still was her appearance. She wore a supple garment the color of the deep sea, like a chiton but far more close-fitting, hugging her slim figure in a way that was almost scandalous. She had glittering blue eyes, straight, raven-black hair, and a face of sculpted beauty, with high cheekbones and lips tinged a bluish shade. Her jewelry reminded him of a priestess of Edra: shining copper bands jangled on her wrists and she wore a fanlike copper necklace at her throat. Strange symbols had been etched into the flat surface of the copper, angular shapes that reminded him of the Ark of Revelation, destroyed by Nikolas the previous year.

  As he wondered how long she’d been watching and listening, Dion glanced at Cob and saw a wistful expression on his face. The old sailor’s mouth had dropped open; he was almost drooling.

  But where Cob appeared utterly captivated by her beauty, Dion saw a cold, calculating woman. Rather than Cob, it was Dion she was looking at, with an intelligent, penetrating stare.

  ‘I am Zara. Think of me as the king’s . . . spiritual adviser,’ she said. ‘My apologies, the king is under a lot of strain. We built Malakai. This city was always ours, but Kargan the false king disagrees, and we are expecting him to come by land or sea. But forgive us if we have been overzealous.’ She gave a slight smile. ‘We are recently returned to the Realm and we don’t always know who it is we are dealing with.’

  She turned to Palemon, whose face showed mingled anger and confusion.

  ‘Sire, these men are not Ileans. They are from the northern Maltherean.’ She raised an arched eyebrow at Cob. ‘Do I have that correct, Captain?’

  ‘Aye . . . from Xanthos.’ Cob stumbled over the words. Dion glared at him, but Cob appeared to be under some kind of spell.

  ‘We thank you for your visit, and you are free to go. Depart with our gratitude and blessing.’ She looked pointedly at the king, before turning back to Cob and Dion. ‘When you have sold your cargo, you may leave without hindrance.’ She nodded at the pair of soldiers. ‘Escort them back to their ship.’ The soldiers glanced at the king, who gave a sharp nod.

  As Palemon, Kyphos, and the strange woman looked on, Dion and Cob followed their escort out of the audience chamber.

  Glancing back at the tall king, Dion saw that his jaw was clenched tightly.

  As soon as they reached the harbor, Dion and Cob looked behind them, walking with quick strides, checking that the two soldiers were still standing motionless at the gates. They were watching, but letting them return to the ship alone.

  ‘What was that about?’ Cob demanded. ‘So much for being the quiet captain’s mate.’

  ‘I had to find out the truth. And he gave it to me.’

  ‘We could have been killed.’

  ‘Give me your view,’ Dion said. ‘Why did they let us go?’

  ‘The woman. Zara.’

  ‘Yes, the woman. Who was she?’

  ‘My ma used to tell me stories of witches—’

  ‘I agree,’ Dion said.

  Cob frowned.

  ‘I think she was a magus, or something like a magus,’ Dion said. ‘She put you under some kind of charm – I know you, my old friend, and you would never have revealed we were from Xanthos otherwise. I also think she knew who I was.’

  They were almost at the Liberty, where just a few barrels remained on the wooden platform. Finn stood nearby, haggling with a last handful of shouting merchants.

  ‘The stories say that the Aleutheans had a golden lighthouse so powerful it could be seen for a hundred miles,’ Dion continued. ‘To defeat the eldren, they must have had magic of their own. We need to learn more about them. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that magic is to be respected.’

  ‘Let’s just get out of here,’ Cob said. ‘And remind me not to sign up for a voyage like this again.’

  ‘Finn!’ Dion called. ‘Are you done? We’re leaving.’

  ‘I still have goods to sell!’

  ‘We’re leaving. Right now. I want this ship sail
ing as fast as possible for home.’

  ‘You’re just the captain’s mate. You can’t tell me what to do.’

  Dion leveled a stare at his richly dressed friend.

  ‘Fine, fine,’ Finn muttered.

  But as Dion started up the gangway, out of the corner of his eye he saw Finn take a purse from one of the merchants and the two men clasp palms, before Finn hurried after him. Dion scowled at Finn, who gave him a look of innocence.

  ‘I can’t turn away good profit,’ he protested.

  ‘Make all haste!’ Dion called to the crewmen. ‘Get us moving!’

  Soon the Liberty was drifting away from the pier. Dion stood at the vessel’s stern, gazing at the city. He’d learned more than he’d ever thought he would.

  And the knowledge was more than unsettling.

  ‘What just happened?’ Palemon thundered. He towered over Zara, fists bunched at his sides as he glared at her.

  ‘There was something you were unaware of, sire,’ Zara said smoothly. ‘You were just speaking with Dion, the king of Xanthos.’

  ‘What?’ Kyphos spluttered. He slowly frowned. ‘The first mate?’

  ‘The very same. I was watching. When you threatened him, he was still confident. He removed his silver necklace. Why? Evidently so he could change his form. As we learned from our Ilean captives, he is half-eldran. I approached and it was confirmed. I can charm most men, but my magic had no effect on him at all.’

  ‘The king of Xanthos? Even more reason to capture him,’ Palemon said, whirling to face the direction of the harbor. ‘We should summon our forces—’

  ‘Sire,’ Zara interrupted sharply. ‘We were not prepared for him. Even you . . . Are you certain you could face a shapeshifter and be guaranteed of victory? He is a powerful king, which explains the vessel. It will be full of fighting men. No, he took us by surprise. We will let him leave, and soon he will be gone.’

  ‘What does this mean?’ Kyphos asked.

  ‘It means that the king of Xanthos is aware of our plans,’ Zara said.

  ‘He is bold,’ Palemon muttered. ‘To come himself.’ His lip curled in distaste. ‘But he is part monster. How could they make him their king?’ He shook his head. ‘So much has changed in the Realm. The eldren have reclaimed Sindara. A half-breed rules in Xanthos. Control of the three seas is fragmented, subject to constant war. Humanity has become primitive . . . These people think our weapons and armor are advanced!’

  ‘That ship is advanced enough,’ Kyphos said.

  Zara shook her head. ‘It is indeed large, and powerful for the current era. But the Solaris was far more sophisticated.’

  ‘Can we expect war?’ Kyphos asked, looking up at Palemon.

  ‘Xanthos is far from Malakai,’ the king said. ‘No, I would think not. But we will need to make our next move swiftly. Making enemies is inevitable if we are to get the ships we need, but we will doom ourselves if we don’t have the strength to defeat them.’

  Palemon scowled, gazing out the window. The trireme was already making speed as it left. Tearing his eyes away, he turned to the sorceress. ‘Zara, your search for artifacts . . . Please tell me you’ve found something.’

  ‘I came because I have something to show you.’ She nodded, and then gave a small smile. ‘I arrived just in time, it seems.’

  ‘What did you find?’ Kyphos asked.

  Zara shook her head. ‘I’m sure you have work to do,’ she said, pointing her sun staff at the hunchback. ‘This is for the king alone.’

  8

  Palemon followed Zara out of the palace, only realizing when they were in the streets that neither of them had thought to ask for an escort. He smiled to himself. Now that he had a palace, it appeared he needed to be escorted everywhere he went. The trappings of power, he supposed. An escort was utterly unnecessary. Only a foolish enemy would challenge the sorceress.

  As they walked side by side through the city streets, turning into one of the longest avenues, he saw that she was taking him to the Sky Tower.

  ‘You have solved the tower’s secret?’ he asked.

  Still clutching her sun staff, she glanced over at him. ‘It was the first place we looked, of course, but aside from the fact that its design is odd to say the least, our initial search turned up nothing. Nonetheless, after exploring the city and talking to the priests, everything pointed here. It became obvious that during the reign of Aleuthea it was a place of importance, even if today’s priests have only been using it for ceremonies.’

  The tower grew ever larger as they approached until it dominated Palemon’s vision. A tall, perfect cylinder, it was so large that it would take a man a reasonable amount of time to walk around the perimeter. The huge blocks it was made of were a pale stone, not as beautiful as marble, but evidently able to stand the test of time.

  They came to an arched entrance, wide enough for ten men to walk abreast and easily twelve feet tall. Two of Zara’s fellow sorcerers stood guard outside, both wearing gray robes and clutching tall staffs in their hands, and moved to the side to allow them past. Entering the dark interior, Zara led Palemon along a corridor that followed the curve of the wall, before coming to another archway, this one revealing light at the tower’s hollow core.

  Palemon walked across a floor of paved stone to the very center of the shaft and looked up. He could see a small circle of blue sky, high above.

  ‘First, the tower,’ Zara said. She lifted her staff, indicating the shaft they were standing in. Despite being at ground level, it felt to Palemon as if he were standing at the bottom of an immense well. ‘As you can see, its basic shape is a cylinder, hollow from base to top.’

  ‘For viewing the sky?’

  ‘That is what the priests thought, although the mystery has always been: what does the circle reveal? The sun’s passage? The moon? The constellations? Every one of the dozen magi we brought with us from Necropolis made his or her own assessment. We all agree. None of those things make sense.’

  Despite living in Malakai for weeks, Palemon hadn’t made time to see the tower, and he turned in a slow circle, gazing along the interior of the wall, seeing steps built into the inside of the tower and rising almost to the top of the shaft. The steps terminated at a stone ledge, encircling the shaft just below the tower’s lip.

  ‘What is the purpose of that ledge?’ he asked. ‘I doubt you could see anything from there.’ He tilted his head back. ‘Are those iron hoops circling the wall, just below?’

  ‘To be truthful, I don’t yet know the purpose of the stairway. But please, there is more. Come.’

  Zara inclined her head, and he followed her back inside to the curved corridor. He was surprised to see that the path straightened and now the floor was sloping down, into the earth. The corridor, as wide as the main entrance, was steadily descending, the stone ceiling angling with it.

  Palemon frowned, perplexed at the passage’s immense size. He wondered where it led, and figured they were well below street level when the tunnel abruptly terminated in a chamber. He saw objects on a table: a stand for incense, a lamp, a statue of the god Helios. The table had been pushed to the side.

  Strong force had torn a hole in the rear wall.

  ‘It was only when I came back to the tower that I realized the stonework here was newer,’ she explained. ‘I used the power of wind to break the wall.’

  Palemon tugged on his beard. The force it would have taken to tear down a wall of solid stone . . .

  ‘This way,’ Zara said.

  She stooped to pass through the breach in the wall, but Palemon struggled, cursing as he maneuvered his frame into the gap. Finally on the other side, he noticed that the air was stiller. The ground was dusty rather than covered in grit and sand. The floor was made of the same stone as the sloping tunnel, but it had better stood the weathering effects of time.

  My people built this tower. Someone, perhaps even one of my ancestors, sealed off this corridor.

  It became gradually darker as they followed the t
unnel, which made it difficult to see what lay ahead. Walking beside the sorceress, Palemon peered into the shadows and realized that they were approaching a huge door that perfectly filled the stone corridor. It appeared to be made of metal, perhaps even gold, matching the frame. The door was ajar. Zara had already come this way.

  As they reached the door, she noticed him examining the angular symbols that followed the frame’s perimeter. ‘The door was magically sealed, and it took some time to open it,’ she said. ‘I almost died when I stepped through; the air beyond hadn’t been renewed in eons.’ She smiled faintly. ‘Fortunately I became unconscious before I’d entered far. I woke a few hours later. No harm was done.’

  Palemon shook his head, admiring the strength of the woman. No doubt she’d been here, on her own, and after collapsing, she’d simply woken up and carried on.

  ‘Coming, sire?’

  The air was so still that he could hear his heart thudding slowly in his chest, beats sounding loud in his ears. What he’d seen so far was intriguing, but he knew Zara well enough to know that she was saving something for the end. Entering through the strange doorway, he sensed that he was now in a cavernous chamber, but the darkness was complete, and it was impossible to gauge its size. He took several long steps into the void, turning slowly, wondering if his eyes would ever adjust, trying to figure out what Zara had brought him here to see.

  Then Zara lifted her sun staff, making a sharp sound. The hoop of gold at the top of her staff lit up, bathing the area in radiance.

  The ceiling was high, and the underground chamber was even more immense than he’d imagined. Given the scale of the corridors and the golden door, the place was oversized, as if built for giants rather than humans. Turning to take it all in, the first thing he saw was that the floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of the same smooth, pale stone. He caught a glimpse of a series of barred iron cages along one side, each of an enormous size, but then Zara moved her staff, shifting the light to point out something on the opposite wall.

  It was writing, two rows of large carved letters. Palemon strode up to it and frowned. ‘What does it say?’ he asked. ‘It looks like it was written in haste.’