The Deathless

by Peter Newman

‘You heard about that, then?’

  ‘It’s been discussed in every corridor, as I’m sure you’re aware.’ Gada’s face softened in what Vasin assumed was supposed to be a patient, kindly manner. ‘I don’t mean to interfere—’

  Oh but I think you do, thought Vasin.

  ‘—but you’ve always been one for grand gestures. Wouldn’t it be better to send one of the hunters to oversee the work? You’ve asked for my help in this project, so it seems fitting that I bring my expertise to it as well as my resources. Now, in my experience, it is much better to use people in the manner for which they were—’

  Vasin held up a fist, uncurling the fingers a beat too late. ‘No, I think Vis and Mal are exactly where they should be.’

  There was a pause.

  Gada took a half step back, a giving of ground, symbolic. ‘So be it. Might I ask about your own plans for the immediate future?’

  ‘Playing to my strengths. I’m going hunting.’

  ‘Then I thank you for your hospitality. I’ll pack my things and travel to Lord Rochant’s castle today to present our plan to the High Lord. For both our sakes I hope that when you return, you have something to present. High Lord Yadavendra’s patience is at an end, and I fear we are the ones his anger will fall upon.’

  Vasin nodded. ‘In that, we are agreed. Go safely, my brother. My doors are ever open to you.’

  They embraced a final time. ‘As mine are to you. Hunt well and thorough.’

  Tucked away in tattered clothes, her skin lightened, the gold tattoos hidden from sight, Pari reentered the lands of House Sapphire. Lan was with her. He was pretending to be a trader, she was pretending to be his old grandmother, too far gone to be left alone.

  Though the Godroad shimmered as blue here as it ever had, playing beautifully with the gold, red, red of the suns, the people on it had changed.

  And not for the better, thought Pari.

  They’d joined a caravan, Lan bargaining a place for them on one of the cheaper wagons bringing up the rear. There were no crystal-tipped wheels to be found, the wagon lumbering under the full weight of its cargo. And it was slow. Pari suspected the Dogkin pulling it were even older than her; a trio of mangy creatures, mostly toothless, their faces covered by fringes of grey fur.

  Other civilian travellers on the Godroad were scarce; instead they met with guards in House Sapphire livery. There was variation in them, some groups seeming to Pari more like costumed children or well-dressed bandits, but all of them forced the caravan to stop. Then came a barrage of questions, accompanied by a swift search of the wagons for babies and missing Deathless.

  Pari was largely ignored, and if a guard came their way, she let Lan do the talking, feigning deafness rather than waste her energy. After a while she could recite their questions from memory.

  There was an aggressiveness to the interactions that Pari took issue with. They seem so ready to fight. It’s as if they want a confrontation.

  Eventually they reached Sagan. Even from a distance, the place appeared swollen with people. For all of the sounds of industry and the new homes being built, she could see clots of men and women squatting in the streets, idle, starving.

  In order to reach Varg’s cottage on the far side of the settlement without being seen, Pari took Lan around Sagan’s edge, the young man virtually bent double with the weight of her things. She walked carefully, skirting the Wild, using her staff to test the ground ahead – it was made of Wildwood, a gift from Lord Rochant early in their courtship. It was said to bring good fortune, though they’d both laughed at the idea of a piece of wood having power over her future.

  I’ll make my own luck, thank you very much.

  As they drew closer, Lan began to slow down.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Pari asked.

  ‘Yeah, I’m just a bit scared-like.’

  ‘Scared of what?’

  ‘That monster Dogkin.’

  She laughed. ‘Oh, you mean Glider?’

  Lan nodded fearfully, the gesture making him seem very young.

  ‘Don’t worry about her. Glider’s a stubborn girl but she won’t hurt us. Besides, it doesn’t look like she’s home.’

  Varg’s wagon was parked outside the house. It appeared undamaged, and the emergency supplies of paint and food were secreted away in their usual hiding place. Everything seemed to be in order, and yet after one look at the house, Pari’s heart sank.

  ‘Be on your guard, Lan.’

  ‘Is it proper bad?’

  She didn’t answer, turning her attention to how little of the building remained visible. The trees had grown since her last visit, their branches covering the side walls completely to curl around the front. Even the smaller cube on the top looked besieged by creepers. ‘Oh no.’

  Lan looked as if she’d just slapped him across the face. ‘It’s proper bad, in’t it?’

  She was nodding even before her eyes came to rest on the front step. ‘The Wild has been here.’

  ‘The Wild?’ Lan followed her gaze. ‘There’s blood in the wood!’

  ‘Yes, Lan. There’s blood. But it’s dried, whatever shed the blood is probably long gone. Stay here, I’m going to have a look inside.’

  He set down the heavy pack with extreme care. ‘But what if there’s somethin’ still in there? What if it gets ya?’

  ‘That won’t happen. But if it does then I want you to run from this place and keep running until you get back to my castle.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Pari crouched down and stared at the bloodstains for a while. Spatters could be found high up on the front wall of the house either side of the doorway. The step was saturated with it.

  She straightened and examined the front door. The hinges had come loose at the top, giving it a slight lean. Sections of the frame had been punched clean off, allowing the door to swing both ways. Pari nudged it open with her staff and went inside.

  The main room was a shambles. A battered pot lay on its side, the contents spewed out in a fan shaped puddle, dried to a thick crust and peppered with mould. Several sets of clothes had been abandoned here as well, one at her feet, another by the wall, two more in the middle of the room.

  All of the clothes were bloodied and torn, as if something had ripped them from their owners. Among them she found Varg’s knife, stained with use, and a long needle of the kind she’d encountered in Rochant’s castle.

  The assassins were here but it looks like they found more than they bargained for. Where are you, Varg? Did your life end here?

  It was possible Varg had died in a disguise, but none of the clothes were his, and her instincts were telling her that if he had fallen, it was not in this room.

  The second room was largely untouched. Things were a mess, as if someone had quickly searched here, but nothing was broken, and no one had died.

  A ladder was set against the wall to allow access to the upper room. Crumpled at the bottom was a sad little pile of clothing and a single diminutive shoe.

  Too small even for Honoured Mother Chandni, she thought, though it gave her little cheer.

  Something had bled on the upper rungs. Pari took a deep breath, put down her staff, and started to haul herself up.

  At the top she froze, her eyes just over the lip. Dappled sunslight shone through the windows highlighting a set of fingers hooked inches from her face. Child sized but too big, too pale, to be Satyendra’s, they had been roughly severed just below the middle knuckle. Of the thumb or the rest of the body, there was no sign.

  She left the house after that to find Lan shivering by the wagon. ‘How many others did you say you found in the house besides Varg, Chandni, and the baby?’

  ‘Four. This couple from Sorn an two little uns.’

  ‘I think Varg and Chandni might still be alive.’

  ‘You do?’ Lan didn’t sound convinced.

  ‘The question is, where did they go?’

  She turned slowly on the spot, looking at the buildings, the field and the trees beyond
. ‘Where did you go?’ she murmured to herself. ‘Lan, start working your way out from the house.’

  ‘What am I looking for?’

  ‘Tracks, signs or anything they might have dropped for us to find and follow. If something catches your eye, however trivial, then I want to know about it.’

  She stood watch over their pack as Lan began to search. It was a risk, as she had a much better idea of the kind of trail Varg would leave, but Lan had stronger legs and more energy to burn.

  He came back with a miserable expression on his face. ‘I found this.’

  She worried it would be another body part and that this time she would recognize the owner. However, it was too small for that, forcing her to squint and lean forward to identify it. Pinched between Lan’s forefinger and thumb was a tuft of white fur.

  ‘Well done!’

  ‘Nah, you don’t get it. This was caught on one of the trees. I think they’ve gone in the Wild.’ He shrugged, helpless. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Pari resisted the urge to slap the boy. ‘It’s obvious they’ve gone into the Wild. Much better they be alive in there, than dead here. Now come on, we have to go after them.’

  ‘We can’t go in there!’ he exclaimed. ‘Nobody goes in there! It’s death!’

  ‘Calm down, Lan dear. You forget who you’re travelling with. That may be death but I am Deathless. In the Wild, I am the hunter.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘And if you say anything about the age of this body, I will prove the lie of it by battering you to death. Well?’

  He closed his mouth.

  ‘Much better. Let’s move to the far side of the house, in case anyone is watching from Sagan.’

  Once there, Pari bid Lan open the pack and unwrap the contents. As the padding fell away, her Tanzanite armour winked up at them. She’d had mixed feelings about bringing it here, for this was all the proof that Lady Yadva or Lord Taraka would need to bury her. But where they were going, it was neither Sapphire nor Tanzanite that she needed to worry about.

  At least not for now.

  Donning it was a slow process. Despite her earlier rebuttal, she was slowing down, and Lan was a poor replacement for a team of Gardener-smiths. However, both were committed, and piece by piece, they covered her in a second skin of crystal.

  She pricked her finger to make the tiniest of cuts, and used the blood to daub the crystal, waking it, before pulling on her gauntlet.

  She took a breath, and felt the armour breathe with her, the two movements becoming one as she exhaled. There. It’s done.

  The fears that she’d been holding down began to ease, that sense of completeness that always accompanied the armour giving her strength. It still fit perfectly, taking the strain from her joints, straightening her spine.

  On some level, she realized, Lan had forgotten exactly what she was. He remembered now, she could see it in his awe-slack face. She took the coiled whip from his uncertain hands, and checked the barb. It was still sharp, and the cable still stretched and telescoped as well as it ever did.

  ‘Add the supplies from the wagon to our own. I don’t want to waste time foraging.’

  He leapt to her order, timid as a baby Mousekin. When their things were packed again, he gave a worried look towards the trees. ‘What should I do when we’re inside?’

  ‘Stay close to me.’ She could see he was barely holding it together and considered leaving him behind. But someone needed to carry their food. ‘Here,’ she said, ‘take my staff.’

  He accepted it, running a hand over the polished surface.

  ‘It’s Wildwood, cut and treated, and given to me by a dear friend. Keep it close and it will bring you good fortune.’

  Lan brightened considerably upon hearing this. ‘I will.’

  It didn’t take long for Pari’s eyes to pick out another bit of white fur, half buried in the mud, and she set off in pursuit of the rest of it, Lan scurrying after.

  Vasin soared through the afternoon sky. He felt good. He felt exultant. Gada had been put in his place, his castle was his own again, and Yi had managed to escape with Lord Rochant without sounding the alarm.

  Some way behind him were his hunters, but their orders would soon be sending them elsewhere.

  And even if they wanted to, he thought, they could not hope to catch me!

  Mia, his lead hunter, had appealed to travel with him. ‘Should we not be at your side, my lord? How can our spears defend you if we are not together?’

  ‘I travel too far for you to follow. If you and the others came with me, you would not be able to get back.’

  ‘We would all take that risk to protect you.’

  ‘But I am in no danger. Whatever happens, I will return.’ In that moment he resolved to take her as a mate when he returned. I have neglected to have children in this lifecycle for too long. ‘You are irreplaceable, Mia. Should anything happen to me, the responsibility of keeping the hunters disciplined will fall on your shoulders. I trust no other.’

  ‘But I am not the oldest.’

  ‘Nor am I, but we are the best, and on the hunt, that is all that matters.’

  And she had said nothing more because it was true.

  He banked sharply to the right, circling, showing off his prowess. The formation of hunters, even further back than he’d expected, raised their spears in salute, Mia at their head. He returned the gesture, turned away, and dived sharply towards the carpet of green beneath.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of light from within the trees. He felt as much as saw it, and was alarmed, for down there was a hint of crystal, of not-Sapphire.

  What was it then? he wondered as the tree tops became distinct, giving him the impression that they were racing towards him rather than the other way around. Could House Ruby still be here on Sapphire land?

  He could not understand why the Ruby High Lord would be this far south. It just didn’t fit, and anyway, that brief sighting had not seemed like a ruby.

  The demands of flying took over his thoughts as he pulled out of his dive, skimming above the canopy. Soon, a gap in the trees could be seen, a dark spot amid the green. He rose up, so that his wings were vertical, dragging against the current, coming to a stop just over the hole. With hands raised, he plunged down, feet first, like a dagger into the Wild’s heart. His Sky-legs took the impact of his landing, the curved blades bending like a second set of knees.

  The sound of his descent echoed through the trees and he could hear the answering sound of movement, of creatures small and large taking action. He smiled to himself.

  They’re running away.

  He walked the rest of the way to avoid attention, and though it was nothing compared to the thrill of taking wing, the way the Sky-legs lengthened his stride and gave energy to every step was enjoyable.

  Yi was waiting for him at the rendezvous, hooded and masked, her skinny frame bulked out with padding under the cloak. At her feet, bound, gagged, and drugged, was Lord Rochant. Vasin had no idea how she had carried him from the road but decided not to ask. Yi’s ability to get things done was almost magical, not to mention reassuring.

  ‘Were you seen?’ he asked.

  She shook her head. ‘Were you?’

  ‘Only when I wished to be,’ he replied, but the question rankled. This had been the fastest and easiest way to get here, but was it the safest? Would Gada have been able to send people to follow him on the ground? Would Yadavendra?

  It is done now, he thought. Let them come.

  When he wore his crystal skin, his thoughts often turned this way, direct, reckless. There was a sense that he could do anything, face anything. That he was better than this! He’d learned that the relationship between the Deathless and their armour was nuanced, somewhere between rider and steed or parent and child, and he was in control.

  He pointed at Lord Rochant with the tip of his spear. ‘How long before he wakes?’

  ‘Not long. An hour, maybe two.’

  ‘That should be suff
icient.’

  ‘I should warn you, he’s been feigning sleep.’

  It didn’t really matter, out here, whether Rochant were asleep or awake. One handed, he grabbed one of the coils around Rochant’s chest and swung him over a shoulder, effortlessly.

  ‘You should go before the suns do.’

  ‘My orders?’

  ‘Return to my castle and watch.’

  She bowed, turned and broke into a run, making straight for the Godroad, while Vasin went in the opposite direction, heading towards the remains of Sorn.

  With the extra weight, Vasin couldn’t stay in the sky long, but he moved swiftly in a series of bounding glides, swinging Rochant back and forth for balance and momentum.

  Nothing barred his path, the forest emptying at his approach, indeed even the trees seemed to back away, the way ahead always open and easy.

  Still, he stayed alert for trouble. Alone and on the ground, he was vulnerable. It would not do to be caught out here as his Uncle Umed was. Beneath the dark cloak of the trees, the suns felt far away, almost as if they were in a different sky. He knew the things of the Wild responded to their light, weakened by it in some way, just as they were by the light of the Godroad. It was why nothing twisted flew high in the day.

  As the suns set, a little of his bravado went with them. What if they are not running after all? What if they’re waiting?

  With no ambient light to drown it out, the glow of his armour became more prominent, as if a new sun, a sapphire one, were rising to replace the old.

  It was rare for hunts to take place at night, and so despite his lifecycles of experience, Vasin had spent little time in the forest after sunsset. It shocked him how different it felt. Was it his imagination, or did the trees seem to loom more than they did before?

  The way ahead became trickier, tangled bushes threatening to catch at his Sky-legs, and hanging vines his wings. As he came down, taking the energy of his landing and gathering it to spring again, he saw someone in the darkness to his left.

  Another leap, another landing, and they were still there, keeping pace.

  Not a person, he somehow knew. A thing.

  Thoughts flew through his mind as he arced into the air again. He could face his pursuer here or press on. If he fought, he’d have Lord Rochant to manage as well as himself. In the mess of a fight, his prisoner might be killed or he might find some way to escape. Vasin couldn’t allow either.