I hung my head in sorrow. What could we do? Hopelessness welled up in me. Had Krii abandoned us? No, never that, I told myself, but what was to become of us? A frightening thought crossed my mind—that it was somehow me bringing death and destruction to my people wherever I went. That’s what the Wavekeepers had predicted.
Of course not. Krii had given me certain abilities, and I simply used them the best way I knew how. I found myself staring at my palms, the scarred and battle-worn hands of a warrior or a killer? Was there a difference?
Dawn broke across the city, sending shafts of sunlight through the mists that curled around the buildings and towers. In the distance, outside the walls of Condii, were many pillars of dark smoke. The body pyres burned in all directions, but most were to the south near the Zeika encampment.
I pressed my head against the almost-transparent glass of the Vista, wishing I could hear a benevolent voice in my head. Despite the mood, I marvelled at the vastness of the waking city. What a shame to have war come here. The smoke of many kitchens and inns rose up like flags of triumph throughout Condii. I tried to imagine the many thousands of people out there. Without the waves to connect me with their kin, I could only guess at their thoughts and emotions. Though some had been injured or lost loved ones, they would press on.
Battalions of cavalry walked and trotted down the cobbled lanes from the direction of the front gate. Many of the horses were riderless, some limped horribly. Cattle, goats and sheep were herded through the streets by groups of children on foot. Elsewhere, pigs and chickens were shoved into smaller and smaller pens while makeshift huts and tents were still being erected for the refugees. Some slept on pads in the open air.
Rada-kin of all kinds moved about the town, some following their human-kin purposefully, others wandering aimlessly, grief-stricken. In the distance, if I strained my eyes I could see the builders labouring at the tops of the gate and towers. Wooden scaffolding had been erected in some spots, but in others they simply had the larger skyearls at work, lifting stones and putting them high up in the castle wall. The skies were strangely devoid of skyearls.
‘They must return,’ someone was shouting. ‘Trees! Tell them to return!’
‘We could take Lokshole back,’ someone else retorted angrily.
‘And lose many hundreds more of our people? To what end do we take Lokshole now? There are 6,000 Zeikas headed that way. You must bring back our troops before there are no troops to bring back.’
‘I don’t think you realise what—’
Captain Dathan slammed his stone cup down on the glass tabletop. The sharp ‘ching’ stopped the cascade of voices abruptly. A tiny chip appeared in the thick, milky surface.
‘Haden is right. Recall them,’ he said simply.
‘Ciera refuses,’ someone said. ‘He is in a berserker rage and cannot be stopped.’
Suddenly all eyes were on me. Even though Ciera and I weren’t presently linked they still thought I was influencing his mood.
I licked my lips. ‘I cannot reach him. If I could I would send our soothing song to him…’
‘It is your anger that corrupts him,’ Saned accused me. ‘Before you came along, Emperor Ciera never lost control.’
The entire room fell silent, staring at him. Had he simply spoken the words that others had not been bold enough to speak? did they really see me that way?
When their eyes darted towards me, shame and hurt welled up. My chest tightened. After all I had done… After all I had been through did they expect me to not be angry with the Zeikas? Tiaro had once told me my hatred for the Zeikas ran deep, and that was not a good thing. Well—why not? They are the enemy—they are killing Kriites by the thousand. With no kindred around to respond to my thoughts, my emotions boiled and whirled violently inside. Tiaro was there in my ear, but without wave communication between us she might as well have been a thousand leagues away.
‘Saned has not slept in days,’ Dathan said carefully. ‘Do not misunderstand his words, Astor Talon.’
Suddenly I wished I was with the strike force and the reassuring presence of other Anzaii. If it hadn’t been for Corypha, there would be dozens of Anzaii still around, people who could understand others; people who could understand me; people who could help me to reopen myself to the waves. Now that I didn’t have access to the waves these people no longer had respect for me. They did not know me any more than my people in Jaria had known me.
‘No, I understand,’ I replied without malice. ‘All too clearly.’
I turned and walked from the room.
Chapter Twenty-two—Expansion
Jaalta found me sitting by the banks of the enormous moat around Condii Fortress. Plucking another pebble from the garden bed behind me, I allowed it to roll down into the water. Although I could not be anywhere outside without someone in Condii’s many towers being able to see me, it felt good to be away from the Vista. The fresh air soothed the pounding of my head and the morning sun dried the sweat from my skin.
Jaalta, unable to speak at more than a whisper, chose to sit next to me in silence. She moved cautiously, trying not to tear her recent wounds. We sat for some time and I appreciated her quiet presence.
After a while I glanced down at her.
She closed her eyes at me, like a cat offering its trust. Instinctively I relaxed and closed my eyes back. When I opened them she offered her hand, palm up. Gently I placed my hand in hers. She lifted her other hand to the sky and closed her eyes again—praying for me.
Krii, please restore me from isolation, I prayed.
I strained against the cloistering walls I had erected around my mind. While part of me had found solace in them another part felt trapped and isolated by them.
I had built the walls to protect myself and my fellow wave-users.
Now that the danger had passed I needed to overcome my fears.
Suddenly I remembered the bird that I had faced, in my vision, passing through the Tanzan barrier shield. I had given myself over to Krii completely—to do with as he would. My fear of birds seemed silly now, and there were no butterflies in my stomach when I thought of them.
I give it all to you, Krii, I prayed.
‘Thank you for your almighty plans,’ Jaalta’s thoughts came clearly into my mind. ‘Thank you that even when all hope seems lost, you are still with us.’
Regaining the waves was like walking out of the shadows on a winter day. I turned my face to the sun, revelling in the light and warmth. Krii’s love hit me like a torrent of warm water, washing me clean. There was no sensation in my physical body, but my soul knew Krii was there, just as he had been from the very first day I invited him to be part of my life.
I sensed Tiaro too, sending her own prayers to Krii. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the earring flash with blue light as my wave senses came alive once more.
‘Talon!’ she celebrated.
‘Welcome back, Talon.’ Jaalta’s wave was calm and trusting. She prayed, ‘Glorious Krii, we thank you.’
There were voices and pinpoints of light all around me, but it was easier to keep my focus on just a few now. Jaalta’s prayers were all the more meaningful to me considering she had just lost her Sleffion-kin. The death of Reen was like a gaping wound in her wave-presence, causing the sort of pain I knew from my childhood, yet she praised Krii.
‘I praise him no matter what,’ Jaalta said, sensing the gist of my thoughts. ‘The world is not as it is meant to be, but one day Krii will make things right again. For now, we each have the opportunity to worship him through the good and the bad, and grow to help our fellows on Chryne while yet we live.’
‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ I said, sending every ounce of empathy through the waves that I could. I felt Tiaro join her sorrow with mine. Tears ran down Jaalta’s face but she made not a sound.
After a while I was surprised to see a smile on my aunt’s lips.
‘I knew you were still in there,’ she said.
‘If I could close mysel
f in, why couldn’t I get out again?’ I asked her.
‘You have become very good at “closing yourself in” and I’m not just talking about the waves,’ she replied.
Had I been too withdrawn, too independent of those around me?
‘Wouldn’t you be, in my situation?’ I retorted gently. If she could read my mind, she obviously knew about the many struggles I’d faced as a child; the child of a grief-maddened father. It was natural that child had become a self-reliant, strong-willed man, wasn’t it?
She looked down at the dew-beaded lawn. ‘I just don’t want you to end up like your father.’
‘Nor do I,’ I agreed with vehemence.
She took my hand. ‘He loved your mother. His passions drove him… to his death.’
‘We must fight the Zeikas,’ I replied, wondering if my father had instilled this passion in me.
Jaalta shook her head. ‘Nay. All we must do is obey Krii.’
I stood and paced around. Being parted from Rekala, Sarlice and now Ciera was grinding me down. My left fist clenched around the belt from Jaria. It warmed to my touch, somehow making me feel more alert. Oh but it was good to have my wave senses back!
‘What do we do now?’ I queried Tiaro. If Ciera didn’t return soon he and his battalion would be overrun.
‘Sing,’ Tiaro suggested. ‘Sing and reach out to your Sleffion-kin. Bring him back from whatever darkness he has flown into.’
Halduronlei chimed in the waves as Tiaro and I worked together to recall it from memory. The song built slowly and we turned our attention to Ciera. My heart lurched when I found him many leagues away. He laboured both physically and mentally, taxing his body to within an inch of survival.
The distance between us was insubstantial in the waves now. It was as if he was only in the next room. Rage billowed off him like a storm. Waves of fury washed over me, searing me with their heat. With my wave senses, the belt I was wearing glowed like a beacon—somehow it was lighting the way. Tiaro and I projected the soothing song at Ciera with all our might. Its sad and meaningful tune locked the three of us together.
Emotions swirled in the void between us. Our connection no longer came to me in a purely auditory sense—brilliant colours burned through the waves. Ciera’s outline pulsated before me as he attacked the Zeikas at Lokshole. He took one final pass at the battlements before breaking off.
‘I heed you, Sleffion,’ he told me tiredly. ‘I heed you.’
He was breathing hard and I detected dozens of injuries in his massive frame. One of his forearms was enveloped with pain; probably a break or dislocation. Ciera roared and the skyearls that had continued to defend him, despite the orders coming from Condii, turned and followed him towards home.
‘Be calm,’ I told him. ‘There are other battles to be fought.’
He made no reply. His anger still boiled so strongly that he could barely think straight. There was also something else… some other burden dragging at him…
‘Raer is falling,’ he reported angrily. ‘And I am not strong enough to sustain it.’
He flapped his wings in powerful sweeps, leading the strike force and flying the Condii Defenders back to the city.
‘But Centan will be damaged,’ I responded carefully.
Ciera snorted. ‘They evacuate the Dome of Gathering as we speak. They cannot even help us move Raer over the falls.’
‘There are other shrouders with such ability?’ I queried.
He sighed. ‘Not many, and all but a few of the creators of Raer have perished.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I told him. My situation with the strategists seemed unimportant in light of this news, yet I couldn’t keep it from him. The reminder of my problems seemed to bring him back into focus. We did not discuss his berserker rage.
‘Something is different,’ he said instead. ‘Despite the distance between us, our waves are so clear.’
I looked down at the glowing belt and said, ‘It’s strange you know. I’ve had it all this time and never realised…’
‘The prophecy of Anzaii,’ Ciera suggested.
Two of the verses rose in my mind: “Krii holds ten seeds in His right hand; one for each of the final allies… one to the Land of a Thousand Perils…”
Perhaps that very seed was what had birthed the Ancient Sapphire Tree that Namal had shown me in the Catacombs of Krii, and here I stood with an artefact made from that tree. Was the belt a symbol for one of the final allies? Jaria—broken, scattered Jaria—one of the nine Kriite nations that would band together during the breaking of the world?
My mind spun with questions, but I was also aware of Ciera’s intense struggles. Although our waves were clear, it seemed to take more and more of his strength to concentrate on our conversation. For the first time ever, the smell of his exhaustion reached me through the waves. It suffocated me such that I found myself coughing on the ground. With growing alarm, I realised Ciera’s flight path was taking him lower and lower to the ground.
‘Are you well?’ I asked him.
‘Too much…’ he responded. ‘I cannot hold it aloft any longer.’
His body skimmed low over a field of stubby trees. Several branches scraped his underside, some even penetrating the fur and gouging the thick skin due to the force of his fall. As he came to an exhausted crash landing, something inside him gave way. To Ciera’s immense chimera senses, it was as if a sinew within his own body suddenly tore. Pain ripped through him, and me.
Through the belt and Ciera’s connection to the shroud, Raer, I saw the great sky city and all its buildings crash down onto Centan. The bulk of it crashed into the Dome of Gathering and the Ancient Sapphire Tree inside shattered to pieces. So, they’re not completely indestructible.
A shockwave followed, like a tsunami punching through the waves. I watched in horror as all those with wave senses were affected, one after the other.
The shockwave bubbled out. With the Jarian Anzaii belt in my mind, I was able to perceive the shockwave’s effects all across Tanza. The tens of thousands of wave-users in the realm were floored by the sudden impact of the breaking of the Ancient Sapphire Tree in Centan. For some it was their last moment alive. Wherever they were in battle, the Zeikas took full advantage of the distraction.
I found my awareness hovering over the armies between Lowford and Highford. A Defender army of some 5,000 warriors had embarked to help Highford only to be intercepted on open ground. The Zeikas wiped out the last of their number before my very eyes.
‘Crystom! Em!’ I cried out.
With Jaalta’s help, the belt enabled me to search out the king and queen within a few minutes. Of all places, they were both inside the Dome of Gathering.
Panels of stone and glass shattered around them as the outer walls crumbled inwards. As I watched in horror, the pressure on the last remaining blocks of the ceiling became too much. King Crystom was pulling at Em’s legs, trying to get her clear of the falling debris. She pushed forward relentlessly, grasping for a single leaf of the Ancient Sapphire Tree that had shot clear of the first pile of rubble.
Finally she had it in her hand and the two of them fled from the collapsing building.
Structures from Raer Sky Kingdom toppled in after them, crushing whatever was left of the passages and tunnels in the Dome.
Afterwards, not an inch of the tree was visible in the wreck. I felt like a spirit hovering over them, unable to help. Perhaps with the belt, I could help.
I gestured at Jaalta, allowing her to read my thoughts. She placed her hand on my waist so that some of her fingers were touching the belt directly. Together we reached out for Crystom and Em.
‘Jaalta? Talon?’ came Crystom’s bewildered reply.
He had sprained his ankle and Em bore many cuts and bruises from her dash into the Dome.
‘Zeikas have defeated a Lowford Defender army on its way to Highford,’ I blurted, hoping to at least get that vital piece of information to them before our communication over the waves was interrupted.
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The king and queen looked at each other.
‘How are you doing this far-waving with us?’ Em wanted to know.
‘It’s the belt,’ Jaalta said. ‘Talon’s been out of the waves a while, but Krii helped him open up again. Now, with our combined Anzaii abilities and using the belt, we seem to be able to reach further.’
‘You said the Lowford army has been slain?’ Crystom queried, unable to keep his dread from reaching us. There were hundreds of souls in that army he knew well, and even those he didn’t know were precious to him.
‘Aye,’ I confirmed. ‘I saw it as I watched a shockwave from the breaking of the Ancient Sapphire Tree.’
‘May I ask what you were doing in the Dome?’ Jaalta said.
Em replied, ‘Krii told me to recover a part of the tree—at all cost—and bring it to you and Astor Talon.’
‘It’s the prophecy of Anzaii,’ Jaalta said, confirming my recollection of the conversation with Ciera.
Even through the waves, her voice was like the softest whisper. The import of what she was saying was too much for my tired mind. I wished Sarlice and Thita were here, with their greater understanding of the scrolls. My thoughts raced. The prophecy of Anzaii mentioned the final allies who would each have an Ancient Sapphire Tree. Jaalta was a step ahead of me.
‘There is more to the prophecy of Anzaii,’ Jaalta said.
‘It has not been translated,’ Crystom replied.
He and Em were somewhat distracted now, having been found by other Tanzans and escorted to safety. Both of their Sleffion-kin were nearby, ready to fly them out of the waterfall city.
‘You mean you have it?’ I asked incredulously.
To my knowledge, all existence of that writing had been lost decades ago.
‘There are fragments in various languages,’ Crystom said. ‘But we lack the proper codices to finish translating most of it and piece it together.’
‘Why bring it up now, then?’ I asked Jaalta.
‘I believe it will tell us what to do with the pieces of the nine trees, how we go about bringing the final allies together and for what purpose.’
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