by Jo Spurrier
‘Hmm. Any more found?’
‘No, sir, not in the last few hours. Maybe we’ve got them all?’
He scowled down at the plan. I doubt it.
‘Will there be anything else, sir?’
Isidro shook his head. ‘Not for now.’
But instead of leaving, Lavani hovered in the doorway, frowning faintly.
‘What is it?’ Isidro asked her.
She bit her lip. ‘That message from yesterday, sir. Did you get a chance to look at it? Only I can see the seal is unbroken.’ She reached for a tablet on the corner of his desk. It was the message she’d brought the day before, moments before he’d felt the attack against Sierra.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Blast. I’d forgotten about it.’
‘May I ask how Lady Sierra fares today? I was awake half the night praying for her, and I meant to go make an offering at the temple this morning until I was called in here.’
As he reached for the tablet, it took him a moment to recall the empty phrases from the day before. ‘As well as can be hoped,’ he said. ‘She’s resting a great deal.’
‘We’re praying for her, sir. Well, for all of us, really.’
She made another bow and turned back to the door, as Isidro glanced down at the tablet. It was an ordinary thing made of plain wood, with a strip of leather glued along one side to hinge the two leaves together, but someone had taken the trouble to bind it shut with string and wax. He turned it over to find the seal, pressed with a depiction of a bird taking wing from a swelling flower-bud.
At the sight of it his heart jumped, and a tingling wave swept through him, making his power rise up and pulse in time with his heart. ‘Lavani!’ he called, and she paused with her hand on the door.
‘Sir?’ she asked.
‘Who brought this?’
She frowned. ‘Do you know, I don’t know, sir. I mean, I’d know her again, but I’ve never seen her before, and I thought I knew our mages.’
‘But she was here? In these chambers?’
‘Yes, sir.’ She seemed puzzled and faintly alarmed. ‘Yesterday morning, it was, just before you rushed out to Lady Sierra. She asked me to deliver it to you, and left right away.’
‘What did she look like?’
‘She had a lot of southern blood, sir, like a Mesentreian or one of the light-skinned Akharians, with long, dark hair. But she was a northerner, I’d swear to it. She had braids wrapped around her head like a northern girl and she spoke our tongue like one born to it. She walked like a soldier, straight back and head high.’
Isidro glanced down at the tablet again. ‘Alright. If you see her again, tell me right away.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She made a small bow, and left, pulling the door closed behind her.
Isidro bit his lip as he cut the cord with a sweep of his knife.
Isidro, the inner leaf read, yes, this truly is Nirveli. I know you’re wondering how in the Fires Below I came to be here. I can’t tell you now, this message may be discovered, but I will explain everything.
Right now I need to warn you — the Akharians are planning to move against Sierra. I don’t know where, or when, but I know there is an assassin in place. Tell her to be wary, Isidro, and be on your guard. Keep this tablet close. I’ll be in touch again as soon as I can.
Nirveli.
Isidro set it on the table and scrubbed his hand across his brow with a groan. A warning … if only they’d seen it sooner. But no, it wouldn’t have made any difference — by the time the message had reached him it was already too late.
Isidro closed his eyes and reached for Sierra.
She was awake and sitting up in bed, with Rhia, Rasten and Amaya arranged around her. Isidro? she said. Something wrong?
No, he replied. No, I just wanted to see how you’re faring.
Better than before. Through her eyes, he saw her turn to Rasten, and a moment later he joined the conversation.
Isidro, we’re going to take the shaft from her side, Rasten said.
Already? I thought you said it’d need days to heal.
With their hidden passages discovered I’m worried they’ll make their move sooner rather than later. That thing in her side makes her vulnerable. She’s doing well, the fever is gone and she’s stronger today.
Alright. You know what you’re doing.
How goes the work, Issey? Sierra asked him.
He opened his eyes to look over the tablet once again. I’ve done all I can for now. I’m coming back to quarters. I want to see you, and I’ll show you something that just turned up.
Oh? He felt her go tense. More bad news?
Not this time, he told her.
When he reached the royal quarters, the outer chamber was empty, but he could see that Rhia and Rasten had been at the table. One of Rhia’s medical texts lay upon it, and scattered around it were drawings in a bold and steady hand, together with pens and ink. It seemed that Rasten had been correcting Rhia’s book of anatomy.
In the bedchamber, the procedure was done and Rhia was replacing the bandages over Sierra’s ribs. Sierra looked pale and worn, but her colour was better than it had been the night before.
As Rhia tied the bandages off, Sierra gingerly ran a hand over her side. ‘Ye gods, that’s better. It was a horrible feeling, having that wretched thing move whenever I brushed against it.’
‘Now remember,’ Rhia told her sternly, ‘you must be very cautious. If you exert yourself, you will risk reopening the wound to your lung and it may collapse again. You must be as still as possible and rest.’
Sierra nodded impatiently. ‘Yes, yes,’ she said. ‘I know I’m not up to fighting any battles. Just tell the cursed Akharians, would you?’
‘You’re young,’ Rasten told her. ‘You’ll heal fast.’
‘Maybe not fast enough,’ she said with a scowl, settling back against the cushions.
Rhia helped Amaya gather up the last of their cloths and implements and shepherded the girl from the room, Rasten following along behind.
Sierra glanced down at her hands, wringing them briefly together before raising her gaze to his face again, her expression unreadable. ‘I hear you got one of them.’
‘Yes.’ Isidro sat on the bed. ‘Delphine’s kinsman. The one who gave Anoa so much trouble.’
‘She must be relieved to see him done for.’
‘I hope so,’ he said.
‘And Delphine?’
‘She knows what kind of man he was. She’ll mourn the loss of her kin, but not the man himself, I think.’
He’d tucked Nirveli’s tablet into his sash, and now he pulled it out again. ‘Take a look at this. It was brought to me yesterday, but I didn’t see it until just now.’
Frowning, she slowly read the contents, studying it for some moments before letting it fall into her lap. ‘How do we know it’s really her?’
‘I …’ He realised then that he’d never told her about the slip of paper Mira had found. ‘Oh, Black Sun, I never showed you … this isn’t the first we’ve seen of her here. The other one was just a drawing on a scrap of parchment. It turned up in the packs of one of Mira’s supporters from Ruhavera. It was like this, here —’ He pulled the string and seal out of his sash to show her. She reached for it and winced as the movement tugged on her stitches. ‘Ah … but how do we know it’s not forged? Issey, I just can’t see how she could be here — she’s dead, a ghost, a memory trapped in stone. It doesn’t make any sense. They’re trying to trick us.’
‘I don’t understand it either, but I know she wouldn’t give them anything they could use against us. And who knows what those ancient mages were capable of?’
She turned to him with narrowed eyes. ‘Are you saying you trust this cursed thing?’
‘No, I just … I have a hunch that it’s not so simple as that. My gut tells me it’s her, Sirri.’
She held his gaze for a long moment before letting her eyelids drift closed. ‘Alright. Your hunches are sound, Cam always says so.’ She handed
tablet and seal to him and slumped back against the cushions, her eyes drifting closed.
‘Do you want me to let you get some rest?’ he said.
She roused herself with a struggle. ‘Do you have work to do?’
‘I … no,’ he said. ‘Not if you want me to stay.’
‘I’d like that,’ she said, her voice very soft. ‘As long as you’re here, Issey, I can believe everything will be alright.’
‘It will be,’ he said. ‘I’ll do everything in my power to make it so.’
She smiled, her eyes closed, and wound her hand into his.
He stayed there long after she fell asleep, watching her chest rise and fall, her eyes flickering beneath the lids, and found himself thinking back on the months he’d spent turning away from her. He caught himself clenching the hand she held, and made himself relax with an effort of will. Why had he wasted so much time? In those weeks and months marching for home he could have had her in his arms. Why did he only see what he truly wanted now, when she was gravely injured and the threat of the Akharians was hovering close?
You weren’t healed enough for that, he told himself. You needed more time. There’s no use raging over what can’t be changed, you need to look ahead. Forgive yourself for your failings and move on …
Forgive yourself. Wasn’t that what Delphine had said to him? He’d been too weary and heartsick to make sense of it at the time, but now it hung in his mind, crisp and clear. You’ve forgiven Sierra, you’ve even forgiven Rasten, so why can’t you forgive yourself?
He hadn’t just turned Sierra aside on that long march. He’d spurned her, dealt her a punishment she didn’t deserve.
But what good would come of berating himself for it? Cam had compared him to a dog in a snare, snarling at whoever came close. He’d denied it at the time, but looking back, he could see it was true enough. Perhaps it was better to forgive the lapses of a wounded man. He hadn’t set out to harm either of them, but his wounds had been so deep that he’d barely kept himself afloat; he’d had no strength to spare for them. But he was healing at last, and growing stronger. Now he could make things right, now he could make a new start and treat the women he loved as they deserved.
He stayed there for some time, just dozing with the gentle sound of her breath in his ears, until a prickle against his leg roused him again.
He shifted his leg, and when that failed to deal with it, he reached down clumsily with his false hand to rub his calf. But as soon as he settled back down, it was there again, like an insect crawling over his skin.
Rather than disturb Sierra with his twitching, Isidro extracted his good arm from around her shoulders and sat up.
Nirveli’s tablet had been pressed against his leg, and a faint spill of light gleamed between the two leaves.
Isidro went very still. Slowly, holding his breath, he picked it up and took it beyond the curtain, so the glow of light wouldn’t wake Sierra.
The whole thing seemed to pulse in his hand, and when he opened it, bright, clear lines drawn in light glowed through the soot-stained wax. Were those thin slabs of stone set between the wooden leaves and the writing surface? He’d caught no inkling of it before, but he had no doubt that Nirveli was capable of workings he couldn’t comprehend.
Isidro, the glowing writing said. I have news. Meet me in the northwest tower. Come quickly. I’ll explain everything, I promise.
On the other leaf, a swelling design was slowly growing from a point in the lower corner, a creeping vine populated by birds and insects with brightly glowing wings. He’d seen its like before, a year ago in the frozen depths of Demon’s Spire. This was no forgery, he was sure of it.
Closing the tablet, he started for the door, but before he’d taken more than a few strides, there came a rustle of fabric behind him. ‘Issey?’ Sierra said. ‘Where are you going?’
He paused and turned, holding up the tablet. ‘Nirveli,’ he said, ‘she wants to meet.’
Sierra pursed her lips with a hiss. ‘Don’t go alone,’ she said. ‘Take … take Rasten with you. Or someone.’
He shook his head. ‘I’ll take guards, but Rasten stays with you. If there’s any sign of danger, I’ll pull back, I swear.’
It was later than he’d realised — in the main chamber everyone was present, sitting down to the evening meal. Cam looked up at him and stood when Sierra emerged from the bedchamber at his heels, trailing one hand along the wall for support. ‘Ah, you’re awake. But Sirri, you shouldn’t be up. I’ll bring you some food, and Issey, we kept some back for you, too.’
‘I’ll have it later,’ Isidro said. ‘Something’s come up, Cam.’ He handed him Nirveli’s tablet, and turned towards the door. ‘Sirri will fill you in.’
Chapter 17
With ten guardsmen for an escort, Isidro headed for the tower. He left four men at the base of it, and with the others at his heels and a dim mage-light clutched in his false hand, started up the stairs, keeping his power ready.
He could feel something up ahead, a gentle throb of power, soft and warm like the glow of a candle, but they climbed two flights of steps before he saw her — a slender figure wrapped in a heavy fur with the hood drawn over her face. With a swift step to the side Isidro put his back to the wall while the guardsmen fanned out around him, and the figure raised a hesitant hand to sweep the hood back.
The face she revealed was familiar — he’d seen her last in Demon’s Spire, but not in the wall of polished stone. Isidro hadn’t known what to expect, but he knew full well it wouldn’t be the face he’d seen drawn in light upon that wall. Nirveli’s body was long gone, a hundred years dead and buried.
The face he saw was that of Delphine’s older student, Fontaine, with pale skin and wide-set eyes, and long dark hair bound in braids. But then she cocked her head to one side and regarded him in a way Fontaine never had.
‘I’d have told you to come alone,’ she said, ‘but I knew you wouldn’t listen. I’m sorry about this, Isidro.’
There was something odd about her words — it took him a moment to work out that she’d spoken in Akharian — and by then she was already moving, raising her hand as though to toss something to him.
Isidro snapped up his shield: a wall of dead black nothingness mingled with a sooty red. He’d been working on shields ever since he regained his senses, but it seemed that nothing he could do could turn it translucent as Sierra and Rasten could. He felt rather than saw her small missile strike against it.
It was no bigger around than the tip of his finger, but to his senses it felt as big as a boulder, there was so much power bound up within it. There was no time to react, no time to do anything, but send all his power into the shield.
The blast was immense. It hit with a noise like thunder and a flash as bright as the sun. His shield was torn away, ripped to shreds and scattered, and as the blast tore through him, his wits and power both went the same way — swept away in a sudden icy gale. Isidro felt himself crumple, but his wits were flown and his mind shut down before he hit the floor.
Getting up had been a mistake. Sierra felt weak and shaky, her legs not quite up to bearing her weight. The effort of explaining the tablet was enough to leave her breathless and light-headed.
Cam could read it in her face. Rasten, too. They both moved towards her, but when Cam turned to Rasten with a warning glare, the other man fell back.
‘Sirri, you need to lie down.’
She didn’t have the breath to argue. He pulled her arm across his shoulders and steered her back towards the bedchamber. ‘I hate this,’ she rasped.
‘I know,’ he said, ‘but there’s nothing you can do except rest and heal. Are you hungry? I’ll come and eat with you, if you want company.’
He was so warm against her … she thought of Isidro, and how soothing it had felt to have him beside her. She thought she’d grown used to sleeping alone, but perhaps she’d just convinced herself of that to lessen the sting of loneliness. ‘I … I’d like that,’ she said. ‘At least
until Issey gets back. I know you have a lot to do.’
‘Perhaps, but none of it more important than you, Sirri.’
They were halfway to her bed when there came a sudden sharp pain between her ribs. With a grunt Sierra faltered and pressed a hand to her chest … the pain originated a few inches to the right of the wound above her breast.
With a muttered curse, Cam wrapped his arms around her to keep her upright. ‘What’s wrong?’ He lifted his head. ‘Rasten! Here! Now!’
He slammed the chamber door open just as another searing shaft of pain struck her — to the left, this time. Her legs buckled, but the first strike was fading already, dissipating through her with a warm, golden glow. She tried to speak, but there was no breath in her lungs.
Rasten took her head in his hands, peering at her face. Then he pressed a hand to her chest as the second shaft of pain mellowed to a somnolent warmth. ‘Where?’
‘The outer doors. Two men struck.’ She twisted around to meet Cam’s gaze. ‘We’re under attack.’
Cam started to speak, but a double pain at the back of her skull meant that Sierra never heard his words. She felt the crunch of a poniard punching through bone. A familiar sensation as Rasten had used that method in the past to swiftly finish a sacrifice that fed her too much power. The warmth spreading through her chest swiftly died away.
Rasten was already heading back to the other chamber. Cam swung her towards the nearest bed and ducked out from under her arm. ‘Stay here.’
She couldn’t, not if there was fighting. He ran for the door as well, and Sierra started after him. That brief trickle of power left her legs feeling more steady, but only by a little.
When Cam saw her following, he turned back with a scowl. ‘Sirri —’
Power pulsed around them, and in the same heartbeat, there came a massive blast from the outer chamber, a roar of shattered stone, making the floor tremble beneath them.
First came pain in a wracking wave, but somehow she kept her feet. She knew what would come next, she just had to hold out … and then it came, a great surge of power washing over her in a rising tide. It strengthened her legs and her back, quenched the ache in her chest, and filled her head with a golden song. She straightened and strode forward, catching Cam by the arm. ‘Stay back.’