The rope bit at Aviti’s waist as she tried to keep pace with Wist, who was in front of her in the chain, and Tyla who followed. The pain served to distract her from the gnawing claustrophobia that lurked in the darkness. She had lived with the limitless vista of the Great Desert visible from her parents’ farm. It had always held infinite possibilities for Aviti; promises of adventure and discovery. The lack of horizon in this cramped space was torturous. Combined with the uncomfortable sensation of wading through a black stream, it made Aviti feel weak once more. She was determined not to fail again. She would not allow the fear that had overcome her at the edge of the jungle to dominate her once more. She had felt tempted to unleash fire at the sand-whale, but now the thought of it was shameful.
The line to Tyla went taut as she strayed too close to Wist. She waited a heartbeat until the tension dropped, then she walked on once more.
‘Were you not afraid?’ she asked the Lyrat. ‘When the sand-whale approached, were you not afraid?
‘I -,’ her voice faltered, ‘I could not control my fear. It overcame me completely.’
Tyla considered his answer for a moment. Aviti could only just make out his face in the reflected light from Faric’s torch.
‘What did you fear?’ asked Tyla.
Aviti bristled with anger at the implication in his question. ‘You think I am weak for fearing the sand-whale?’
‘No,’ replied Tyla. ‘I asked what you feared. What about its approach made you afraid?’
She thought about his question. Anger still simmered in her, but she knew that the emotion was misplaced. She was furious at her own failure. ‘I was afraid for us all. I feared it would destroy us. I feared it would not stop.’
‘You feared to have no control,’ stated Tyla. ‘You must learn that you cannot control every situation, every possibility. If you focus on what you can achieve, rather than what you cannot, you will learn to channel the fear within you - and use it to your advantage.
‘Also,’ he continued, ‘you fear failure.’
Aviti’s face burned with shame. She was glad of the darkness to hide her now.
‘You remember your past failures and they fuel the fear within you. You fear that you shall never be good enough, never equal to all things. Be wary of despair,’ he said. ‘We all must confront it when we fail. But to give into despondency, to relinquish any hope in the future, is a desolate path to walk. If you tread that path too long, there can be no return.’
Aviti felt a tug on the line from ahead as the tunnel took a bend. Using her hands to guide her, she felt her way along behind Wist.
‘There is no space for despair in my heart,’ said Aviti. ‘My mother lives there; my father lives there, and so does my brother. I only hope to make them proud one day.’
Aviti waited for Tyla to respond, but he lapsed back into his earlier silence. The splashes of their footfalls cascaded off the solid walls surrounding them, so Aviti forced her thoughts to return to her mother to distract her from the temporary imprisonment. Her mother had been so frail in her final days – the only days she had ever seen her in. The memories of the kind, terminally ill woman were so disparate from the visions she had seen of her mother. Finally, she asked the question she had feared to approach.
‘Will I die like my mother?’ she asked to the darkness behind her.
‘Did the magic consume her and leave her broken?’
Aviti counted her heartbeats, so loud in her ears now that they masked the echoes of their footsteps in the water. But she did not reply.
‘When a Lyrat child is taught to use their gift,’ began Tyla, ‘one of the first lessons they are given is how to channel power. They learn how to take from that which is around them; present in everything, living or not. Even the stone which surrounds us now contains power. The child learns to take a little of this and shape it.’
Aviti thought about interrupting the Lyrat, but she had seen before that his answers were seldom as straight forward as his taciturn nature.
‘The alternative is to draw power from within. This is a dangerous and ultimately destructive source; like taking water from your own body - it is unsustainable. But should you draw the energy from that which is around you, like drinking from a river - it passes through you and eventually returns to its source; you remain unharmed. It may be that your mother never learned how to channel energy outwith her body. Without a guide, it is a miracle that you have learned to do this naturally at all.’
She did this naturally? How could that be?
But another thought dominated her now. Her mother had died because nobody was there to show her how to control her talents. Ignorance or perhaps prejudice had claimed her mother’s life.
--*--
They emerged on to the dark cobbled streets of Bohba a few hours later. The Lyrats had performed an acrobatic manoeuvre, which allowed Faric to crawl up to a well, and force the cover open. Once at the surface, he lowered the rope, and one by one they ascended.
The city that she discovered above felt foreign to Aviti. The uneven feel of the stone cobbles beneath her wet feet gave her a sense of instability. She missed the smooth dusty roads of Mashesh. This city reeked of waste and poverty. The dark and crowded buildings reached greedily towards the sky, as if they sought to claim it as a prize. Every one of them was taller than the largest building in Mashesh – the Heirn temple. The awful oppression she had felt in the underground stream refused to depart. She wanted to burn herself a space in which to breathe.
The huge, irregular buildings that they could see were separated by narrow alleys that ran off the main street. There were no torches or lamps lit here. A few carts sat close to one of the enormous buildings that had two huge wooden doors closed across its entrance. Aviti could smell the faint tang of salt in the air. Dregan indicated to one of the buildings, and they moved to its side, slipping into the darker shadows that surrounded it.
‘We are in the merchant’s district, where wares are stored,’ Dregan whispered. ‘We must get off the street. Patrols are regular and they will not overlook our presence.’
Faric motioned to Tyla, indicating the side of another monstrous building, which also ran almost orthogonal to the main street. Tyla nodded and the pair slipped away. They waited in the tense darkness for only a moment or two before the Lyrats reappeared, motioning for them all to follow. They had found a small side door and forced it open. The building inside was empty and looked as if it had fallen into disrepair through disuse. Once inside, Faric secured the door and they gathered at the far end of the cavernous building, to stay as far away from the street as possible.
Aviti looked around the warehouse as Faric relit his torch, taking care to place it in a recess so it would shed only a little light. This building was bigger than her family’s farmhouse and outhouse together. Many families could inhabit a space of this size in comfort, as they did in the centre of Mashesh...Or rather, as they had done. Nobody had survived the Lyrats’ bitter purge, she reminded herself.
After exchanging a few words with Dregan, the Lyrats slipped back outside to find the location of Tilden and Eliscius. What would they do if they found them?
Aviti looked at Wist as they waited for the Lyrats to return. She should have helped him when he had revealed his father’s fate. She, of all people, should be able to understand the pain of losing a father. But she could find nothing for him. As shameful as it was, there was no sympathy, no pity, not even any anger, in her heart for him.
--*--
They sat in the rear corner of the building for hours, waiting for the Faric and Tyla. They sat in silence, occasionally eating, more often resting. The time passed slowly, with nothing to do but wait.
Aviti found herself considering her recent conversation with Tyla again. This magic – this gift that she had received from her parents - had stolen her mother from her. She had feared this from the moment she had seen her mother in the vision. Why had her mother not been able to channel the energy in the same way tha
t had come so naturally to her? Was her father’s gift to her responsible for her ability to tap a wider source of energy? Had he provided the necessary key for her? Did he intend it this way, or was it just an accident?
She thought of the times she had used her gift. She thought of how she had overcome the block; moved her way past it. She thought of her success against the fire-snake and how she had drained the life from it and pushed it away. The feeling of success – no, it was greater than that –, the feeling of ecstasy that she had felt as she handled such a large amount of force had almost overwhelmed her. But it had been all too brief. Just a taste, the smallest of sample of what she could have…Intoxicating and enthralling, sweet and silken; its touch was liquid seduction. Underneath it all, there was a danger. What if there was no limit? Who could stop her? Her thoughts sickened her. This was not what her parents would want.
Her mind flitted back to Tyla, as it always seemed to when she had time to think. Did he experience the same sensations of ecstasy when he had healed her? How did he cope with the emotions that accompanied it? She coloured when she thought of what he might have felt. This was pointless, she chided herself. The waiting was driving her mad. They had not stopped since their desperate flight from that insane priest. There had been no joyful rush when she had burned his face, just fear and desperation. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Getting angry just now was pointless. She knew whom she should channel her anger at. And today may be the day she would get her chance.
Aviti jumped as Faric slipped from the shadows, followed by Tyla. The party rose and gathered around them and Dregan stepped forwards.
‘Have you found him?’ he asked, desperation straining his features.
‘We believe that we have,’ replied Faric. Either Faric had come to terms with his separation from Tyla, or he had learned to sublimate it beneath his immaculate façade.
‘Well-,’ said Wist. ‘Where are they?’ He looked just as desolate as Dregan, but less urgent. With his wild hair and unkempt beard, he resembled one of the Damned; lost, betrayed by death and abandoned by life.
‘We listened above the taverns and guards’ quarters. Time and again, the same name came up: Jerel.’
‘Jerel?’ repeated Dregan. ‘Jerel Ehlanzeni? You are gone for hours and this is what you return with?’ Dregan was starting to fray at the edges. His encounter with Enceladus had changed him. He looked stretched somehow, a little thinner and much less certain of himself. Faric waited until he was certain that Dregan’s outburst was finished.
‘The talk was of his erratic behaviour and his unplanned absence at recent events… his disappearance.’
Dregan’s jaw tightened. He was intrigued now but no less impatient. ‘You think he is there?’ he asked.
Faric and Tyla nodded together. Dregan cursed under his breath.
‘What is it,’ asked Wist. ‘Who is Jezerel?’
Dregan’s eyes flicked to Wist, ‘Jerel. He rules this city. Not directly, but from behind his puppet Governor.’
‘He never leaves,’ Dregan continued. ‘He trusts no-one: a man of habit and recurrence. If another House had him eliminated, there would be talk of a war in the city. How can we get there without Tilden’s knowledge? Once we are there, how do we get in?’
As Dregan continued to talk, Aviti could hear his panic subsiding. He discussed their options with the Lyrats, and together, with a few interjections from Nikka and Wist, they made their choice. They would go to Jerel’s Tower.
--*--
The party slipped across the tightly-packed roofs of the slumbering city, with Faric leading and Tyla taking the rear. Dregan may have aided his passage with his talents or perhaps he had trained in arts other than the arcane, but he passed without a sound, moving as deftly as the Lyrats. Nikka managed the unusual terrain with a nimbleness that defied his stocky build. His movements may not have been as perfect as Faric’s, nor as silent as Dregan’s, but they had a simple efficiency – each foot securely placed. Any mistakes he made were quickly rectified.
Aviti and Wist struggled in different ways. For Aviti, the smooth and unyielding tiles that made up their path were as unfamiliar to her as the Rathou’s broken ground had been, and she had not been forced to traverse the mountain in almost complete darkness without making a sound. Wist was struggling to see, but his movements were surprisingly sure. Unfortunately, his night-blindness was making him prone to errors.
They had left the Merchant’s District without hindrance. The few guards that they had seen, had either been asleep or were passing the time gambling or gossiping. The Docks had been a different prospect. With the buildings spaced further apart, the transitions from building to building were trickier. They had forced to use ropes to cross, with Faric leaping impossible distances into the darkness to bear the rope to the other side. Aviti wondered whether Faric could see the other side; whether he cared. Not even a Lyrat would survive a fall from this height. She shuddered at the thought of disappearing into the blackness, then falling for the briefest of times.
But they had reached the end of the Docks without a major incident. Tyla did have to catch both her and Wist on separate occasions, but his speed and surety had meant that neither of them had realised their mistake before the Lyrat had intervened. She wondered if it was prescience that aided him.
The party gathered on the final roof of the Docks before they crossed the city’s inner wall. A wide road separated them from their hiding place on the roof and the wall. This wall marked the boundary between those that fought to survive and those that controlled their lives. Behind this wall the privileged and the powerful lived, tugging on the strings to which they bound themselves in an effort to climb to the pinnacle.
The next section would be much more difficult. There were no roofs to traverse here and no tunnels to hide them. Stealth would be their best option. And if that failed them, then it may come down to force or flight.
The road that ran through the inner city looped lazily from huge wooden gates up to the Governor’s sprawling palace. The palace sat atop the only hill in the city, dominating the skyline and affording it a panoramic vista that displayed not only the entire city, but the ocean that lay beyond the boundaries of this land. Surrounding the Governor’s palace was an inner ring of estates. Almost as large and decadent as the palace, each of these estates was owned by those that sat on the council. Jerel’s Tower sat amongst them, Dregan had told them.
Around the Councillors’ estates was a ring of smaller estates. These were owned by the richest of merchants and the leaders of the most powerful guilds. The ownership of these was the most fluid. Dregan had described the games of power that occurred, but most of it was meaningless to Aviti. She understood that it meant they would not know what to expect when the crossed this wall. The owners used a variety of methods to protect their land. Some of the estates used hunting dogs; some used trained guards. The only thing of which they could be sure was that their presence would not be tolerated. These people feared for their lives, and fearful people were vigilant. And so they had built a wall around their lands. A line of demarcation, a place they could retreat behind and keep themselves apart from those they ruled. A wall within a walled city.
Tyla and Faric dropped soundlessly from the back of the building on to an outhouse, and then to the ground. As Aviti left the first roof, she clipped a tile with her hand as she dropped. It broke free, fell past the outhouse, and shattered on the cobbled road below. The sound ricocheted from the dockhouse they were on to the inner wall and back. In the distance, a dog barked in reply.
They had to get over the wall now.
One by one, they dropped from the outhouse roof to the ground. From the next street, a whistle cried shrilly.
They pelted across the street to the grey, granite inner wall of the city. There, Tyla and Faric stood beside a rope which they had managed to secure to the top of it. The wall towered over them, at least three times their height.
The dog’s bark returned; louder
now, closer. Nikka was first to ascend the rope, doing so with little difficulty. He seemed to adapt readily to whatever was thrown at him. Wist followed next, the urgency of the situation focusing his fractured mind – temporarily at least. Like Nikka, he moved up the rope to the top of the wall.
They were out of time. The guard would be on top of them any second; his dim outline could already be seen.
‘Go now, both of you,’ barked Dregan to Faric and Tyla. ‘Take the rope up when you get up.’ Without questioning his command, they disappeared up the rope, barely a hand’s width between them.
Aviti looked at Dregan with panic in her eyes. He intended to kill the guard.
‘No!’ she said, ‘I will not murder. Not for you, not for anyone.’
The mage paused for a moment. Only the curvature of the wall prevented the guard from seeing them. ‘Take my hand and open your mind to me,’ he said. ‘No-one need die here.’
Aviti had no time to question what he planned. She grabbed his hand and cleared her thoughts instantly. Then the euphoria rushed over her. Lost in a wave of sweetness and ecstasy, Dregan pulled on her hand, and they passed through the wall. Their bodies made the transition to a plane – a place – where substance was irrelevant, only the sweet taste of the magic existed.
And then she was back, and the pain engulfed her. They collapsed to the soft grass of the estate and Aviti writhed on the ground for a second as she fought to bring her body back under control. She clutched at short desperate breathes of air as the rest of the company descended the wall to join them.
Another whistle sounded – but it was further off this time, in the opposite direction to the first; then another, more distant. The sound of the guard and his dog faded into the distance on the other side of the wall, as they went to help their comrades. Something was amiss in the city tonight.
‘Jesus, what did you do to her?’ said Wist angrily to the prone mage. ‘If you have hurt her -’
Tyla stepped between them. ‘He borrowed a little of her energy, I think. They shall recover in a moment or two.’
The Redemption of Wist Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3: The complete collection Page 28