North Star Guide Me Home

by Jo Spurrier

  ‘Hmm,’ Isidro said. ‘Any sign of children?’

  ‘One of the lads thought he heard a baby cry when he was downwind, sir, but that’s all. I take it as another sign we’ve got the right place, sir. You’d be hard-pressed to find a settlement around here without a dozen young’uns about the place.’

  ‘Alright. Good work. Stay on them and send word of any movement.’

  The bulk of his command was waiting back in the cover of the trees, but there was another party of scouts to the east. They were still surveying the ocean when Isidro and his guards reached the foot of the dune. Delphine quickly scrambled down to meet him.

  ‘Any luck?’ Isidro said.

  Her eyes were bright with excitement. ‘Yes, rather a lot. I made contact with one of Makaio’s men, and they think they’ve identified the ship that’s supposed to pick Cade up. The ship and its captain defected to the Akharians some years ago, and they’ve been shadowing it for weeks, trying to figure out what it’s up to. The mage I spoke to says the tides tonight will let them come close to the shore in darkness and give them the best chance of picking Cade up and getting away again quickly. It looks like we got here just in time.’

  Isidro scowled. It was already halfway to noon, and even if they were past the equinox, he’d still rather have a day or two up his sleeve. ‘Alright, then we’d best get moving. Did you leave any orders with Makaio’s mage?’

  ‘I only asked him to stick to the Akharian ship like a burr to a sock,’ Delphine said. ‘I thought it best not to tell him we’re in position to move on the camp in case the Akharians have a spy on the ship.’

  ‘Good,’ Isidro said. ‘We’ll make a tactician of you yet, Delphi.’

  She smiled with genuine pleasure. ‘What now? Head back to camp?’

  ‘No, there’s no time for that. I’ll send a runner back to tell Nirveli to head in and move the squad up. Once she signals she’s got Cade safe, we’ll move in.’

  Delphine blanched. ‘So fast?’

  ‘There’s no time to waste. We can’t be certain we’re in the right place until Cade’s in our hands. If he’s not here, we’ll have to scramble to find him before that ship does. But once we’re done, I’ll want you to reach Makaio’s ship again and ask them to take out that enemy vessel. In the meantime, have a bite to eat and get some rest. We’re in for a busy day.’

  Sierra craned her head back. If she stood at the edge of the rocky terrace that had been carved over centuries by ice and flowing water, she could just see the walls and guard towers of the fort above. If she took even a couple of steps forward, it was cut out of sight by the small cliff ahead of her and the trees that grew along its upper edge.

  ‘You’d best come forward, my lady,’ Ardamon’s second-in-command, Floren, said with a nervous glance to the walls. It wasn’t much of a fortress, or it hadn’t been until the Akharians had transformed the interior. It had begun as little more than a fortified hunting lodge. Now, according to Nirveli’s description, it had three levels above ground and seven below, enough to hold thousands of soldiers and extensive workshops for the Akharian mages to perfect the devices they’d hoped would let them defeat the new king.

  She scowled, but moved forward anyway, so that the walls and towers fell out of sight behind the trees. ‘I doubt they’d see me when they’ve got the whole cursed countryside to survey,’ she said to the guard.

  ‘As close as we are, my lady, you’d be surprised. In any case, as long as they’ve got the king, it’s better not to take chances.’

  She suppressed a sigh. ‘You’re right. They’re not flying any flags, did you see? No Wolf banner on the towers.’

  ‘I noted that, my lady. If they thought we were defeated, you think they’d fly the banners with pride.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  Before she could say any more, a movement in the darkness of the cave behind the waterfall drew her attention. She started over as Ardamon and Rasten emerged from the damp cavern, their clothes beaded with fine mist from the spray.

  ‘It’s there,’ Rasten said. ‘Right where she said it’d be. The Akharians set a few traps around the door, but they’ll be easy enough to disarm.’

  ‘So you’re going in?’

  ‘There’s no time to waste,’ Ardamon said. ‘They must be planning to move him, if they haven’t already. Their best chance of keeping Cam is to hide him —’

  Sierra nodded and cut him off. ‘Yes, yes, I understand.’ She turned to Rasten. ‘Do you have everything you need?’

  Ardamon straightened at that. ‘Actually, I have a few things for you. I’ll have the men fetch them.’

  As he turned away, Rasten checked the knives hidden in his clothes. Isidro had given him those blades, and Sierra had watched him go over them again and again as they rode north. She knew he sat up long after she fell asleep, exhausted by the strain of travel and sated with power. Nights were hard for both of them. Though it had been her idea to take Rasten back into her furs, she hadn’t realised how much it would shove her back into those fateful days last summer. It had been worth it, all she’d suffered and all she’d endured. These last few days, she’d had to remind herself that their situation now was nowhere near as bad as those awful memories would have her think. They would bring Cam home safely, whatever it took, and if reliving her ordeal of last spring and summer was the price of it, she would consider it a good deal.

  Rasten met her eyes, briefly. ‘I swear I’ll get him out, Sirri.’

  ‘I have faith in you,’ she said.

  He dropped his gaze to stare at his feet. He rarely met her eyes, these last few days. It was hard on him, what she’d asked him to do. One old wound had been re-opened when Isidro let him revert to old ways to raise power for her, but what she’d demanded of him afterwards was another. She was still weak and ill, coughing up blood and black muck, but under Kell’s rule he’d learnt to perform on command. She felt guilty for asking it of him, when she knew the memories it would awake in him were far worse than her own. The price might be one she was willing to pay, but what right did she have to make that same decision for him? He made no complaint, but that counted for nothing. He’d learnt long ago that protesting only made matters worse.

  ‘Oh …’ she said, ‘I just realised. Soon it will be a year since Kell died. A year since we were set free.’

  Rasten winced. ‘Don’t mark the occasion. I don’t want him remembered. Celebrate your new king instead, or an end to the fighting, or something. Not him.’

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘you’re thinking of it the wrong way. It’s a mistake to forget him and pretend he never existed. I’d rather remember the lesson the first time than sit through it a second. People ought to know that evil like that can be defeated. And you deserve to acknowledge the day of your rebirth.’

  He cast her a wary, haunted look from beneath his lowered brows, but he said nothing as Ardamon returned with a bundle under his arm.

  ‘Alright,’ he said, unwrapping the cloth cover to reveal a coat of scale and a sword in a sheath. ‘These are for Cam,’ he said. ‘Wear them in — you’re close in size, the coat should fit you well enough.’ At his signal, a pair of guardsmen came forward to buckle Rasten into the unfamiliar armour, which fit close around his throat and covered him from neck to hip. When it was done, Rasten stooped to pick up the sword, and fumbled a little as he wrapped the belt around his waist.

  ‘Have you ever used one before?’ Ardamon asked him.

  ‘No,’ Rasten said. ‘Never learnt how. I’m better with knives.’

  Once the belt was fastened, Ardamon took a step back to survey the work. ‘Good. Here’s your map.’ He handed him a piece of paper on which Nirveli’s sketch of the fortress had been copied. Rasten glanced at the contents before tucking it into his sleeve.

  ‘Now,’ Ardamon continued, ‘find Cam, get him armoured and armed. We’ll withdraw in the meantime, and get Sierra some place warm and sheltered, but once you send word you’ve found him, we’ll come back to meet you. If yo
u need assistance, tell Sierra and we’ll come in after you. Is that clear?’

  ‘Clear,’ Rasten said, rolling his shoulders to settle the coat into place.

  ‘Remember, they’ll sooner kill him than let us take him back alive. They know that without him they have no power to bargain, and their only hope is to throw us into disarray by killing our leader. You need to defend him with your life, do you understand?’

  ‘I understand,’ Rasten said. His voice was quiet, his tone subdued. Sierra found herself biting her lip as she watched him, but when she realised what she was doing she smoothed her face to neutral. This was unlike Rasten, but she didn’t want anyone to see her unsettled as well.

  Rasten had always lived for action, and the promise of a fight usually set his power singing, but that was in the old days, when Kell was still alive, and the energy and passion of slaughter would let him forget the bonds of his master, even if only briefly. A lot had changed since Kell’s death. Maybe the anticipation of a fight no longer had such a hold on him.

  ‘Anything else?’ Ardamon said.

  ‘Not on my part,’ Rasten said.

  Ardamon nodded. ‘Good. Remember, lad, all our hopes are riding on your shoulders. We’re counting on you.’

  ‘I’ll get him out,’ Rasten said. ‘Whatever it takes. I’d swear it, but I doubt my word means much to you.’

  ‘You do this, and it will mean something.’

  Rasten just gazed at him, his eyes so hollow that Sierra couldn’t guess what he was thinking. He bowed his head to each of them, and then, with his hand on the hilt of the sword he started back into the darkness of the cave behind the waterfall.

  Sierra wrapped her arms around herself and shivered as she watched him go.

  Ardamon laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘There’s nothing to do now but wait,’ he said.

  The sound of falling water filled the cave, a deafening roar that flooded his head. Briefly, it quelled his mind to silence, and Rasten closed his eyes in the dark. He welcomed this moment of peace after the trials of this last week. It’s almost over, he told himself. Just a little further.

  He thought of Sierra, and the first time he’d lain with her in the caverns of Demon’s Spire, a place not so different from this cave. He was glad, now, that she’d come to him of her own accord instead of Kell simply turning him loose upon her when she was bound to the rack, as much as the denial had driven him mad with frustration at the time. Of course she hadn’t wanted him, not truly … she’d done what she had to do, but still, she’d come to him willingly and that had been a turning point for him. It was the first time he’d ever lain with someone freely. It had never occurred to Rasten that it could have made any difference in the time to come … but then, he’d had no concept of how relations between two people ought to work. It was simply incomprehensible. It was only once Sierra escaped, and Rasten caught glimpses through her eyes as she forged ties with Isidro and Cam that he began to understand just how different things could be beyond the dungeon walls.

  If Kell hadn’t enjoyed Rasten’s frustration and thwarted lust none of them would be here now. If he’d been permitted to use her as he’d wished — as he’d been used so many times — she’d never have offered him the alliance it had taken to bring down Kell. If Isidro hadn’t seen his change in nature, he’d never have defended him when Rasten offered his head to Cam. He owed it all to her. When he was cast adrift, she’d thrown him a line, and despite everything he’d done, she’d found the compassion to guide a wretched beast like him back to shore.

  And that was why he’d endured the torment of the last week, for her sake. He would be whatever she needed. He loved her too much to let her down. If she needed him to kill, he’d do it. If she needed him to press her down into the furs and raise power from her body, he would do it. No matter what it cost him, no matter how it felt to know that she only permitted it because she had no other way. He loved her. He worshipped her with every inch of his body, and all the power he could raise as well. Her lying with him was a sacrifice, something she had to do, a price she was willing to pay.

  Before they’d set out, Isidro had taken him aside. Rasten had half-expected threats and warnings, or a reminder that she was only doing this for the king’s sake, and not to forget that she belonged to others.

  But Isidro had said no such thing. Instead, he’d asked Rasten if he could bear this task. He’d known, then, that Isidro understood what it would cost him to lie with her like this, to raise power once more from the wounded body of the woman he loved.

  The question had confused him thoroughly; he hadn’t known how to answer. It wasn’t a question of would, or could. It was simply a matter of doing whatever it took to survive, to win through. Pain was immaterial, it couldn’t be escaped, and he knew he could endure it.

  And in any case, he deserved it.

  I’ve traded one master for another, Rasten thought. It was probably just as well. He had no idea how to live as a free man. Kell had made him fit for nothing but chains. But as masters go, there’s no one else I’d rather bow to. As much as it hurt to feel the silken softness of her skin, to wrap her thick and lustrous hair around his hands and to taste the sweat on her brow, he still loved her with all he had, even knowing she put up with it because she had to. Even then, given the choice of enduring this torment or watching her grieve as what she’d fought for was lost … he could bear any task, this was the lesser pain. He’d choose it every time. She was his redemption.

  He drew a deep breath, and summoned a globe of flame. It lit up the spray around him in a blood-red haze.

  It’s almost over, Rasten told himself. Find the king and get him out, and it will be another fraction of your debt repaid. It’s time to be the man you were meant to be.

  Cam was dozing in the straw when he suddenly came awake with a pounding heart.

  He’d heard something, a sound that often echoed through his dreams: a swift grunt of pain, the hoarse, gurgling rattle of the final breath in a dead man’s throat.

  He sat up, scrubbing his hands through his hair as the chains rattled. In the next cell, he heard Ricca’s piping voice. ‘Mama? Mama, what was that?’

  ‘Nothing, my sweet. Where’s your dolly? Go fetch her and come sit here by me.’

  The girl was rattled enough to do as she was told, and Cam heard the rustle of cloth under the clinking chains as Marima wrapped a blanket around them both.

  Cam stood as quietly as he could manage, flexing legs and shoulders that were stiff with inactivity and cold, straining his ears to catch any clue of what was going on. They’d just heard a man die, he was certain of it. But were his own men coming to retrieve him, or were the Akharians coming to reclaim their lost prize?

  Somewhere in the distance came a faint jingle of metal, and then the click of a turning lock. A moment later, footsteps, lighter and softer than the gaoler’s heavy tread.

  Within moments he appeared at the edge of Cam’s cell, a figure wrapped in a waterproof fishskin coat. The hood was drawn forward to hide his face, but at the sight of Cam he swept it back. Rasten.

  He opened the lock with a touch. ‘Your grace. Can you walk?’

  Cam shook himself. ‘I can do better than that,’ he said, as Rasten reached for the manacles. The rivets gave way at a touch, and Rasten pulled them free with a flash of heat and flickering flame.

  Once the manacles fell away with a clatter, Rasten stripped off his coat, and then removed the sword at his hip and the coat of scale he wore beneath it. ‘I was told to give these to you.’

  Cam didn’t argue. ‘They should have given you a set for yourself.’

  Rasten snorted. ‘I don’t need armour.’

  Sierra had always disdained it too, Cam thought with a smile, but then he sobered, remembering his last view of her as the Akharians marched her into the makeshift cell. ‘Report, Rasten. What’s happened?’

  ‘Everyone’s alive,’ Rasten said, ‘but Sirri’s hurt. We drove the Akharians off, but not before they s
pirited your son out of the palace. They’d made a deal with the Wolf Clan to give the lad to them, but when they reneged on it, the clan snatched you in retaliation. Isidro and Delphine have set out to find the lad, and Sirri and I came for you.’

  ‘Is she here?’

  Rasten shook his head. ‘She’s not fit to fight. She’s outside, with Ardamon and his men. She’ll come into play if things go bad, but I hope to get you out of here before the clan knows you’re gone.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ Cam said as he wrapped the sword belt around his hips. ‘There’s just one thing — the woman and child in the next cell. They’re coming with us.’

  Rasten glanced in their direction, as though he could see them through the stone. ‘I thought I sensed something in here. Meant to check on it once I had you out.’

  ‘It’ll be them, or the little girl, at least. Come on.’

  Cam led him to the next cell, where a pale-faced woman with tangled hair sat pressed hard against the rear wall, her arms wrapped around a little girl of about four, who peered at them through a fold in the blanket.

  From the look in Marima’s eyes, Cam knew she recognised Rasten. ‘It’s alright, Marima. He’s … he’s a friend.’

  She tightened her grip on the girl. ‘He’s a fiend from the Fires Below is what he is.’

  Rasten ignored her as he opened the cell door and strode inside.

  ‘Look,’ Cam said, ‘I know he’s done evil in the past, but he’s on our side now, I swear.’

  ‘Let me put it this way,’ Rasten said, looking down on the pair. ‘Either I can break those chains, or you can wait here ’til the Akharians come for you or the Wolf poisons you and your little girl because they don’t know what else to do with you. What’s it going to be?’

  Marima pressed her lips together in a firm line, but Ricca began to squirm in her arms. ‘Mama, Mama, look, he’s like me, he has lights on him, see? I want to go with him. I don’t like it down here in the dark.’