The Chaos Crystal

by Jennifer Fallon

  He had little time to savour his good deed, however. With the sky already beginning to lighten, the air crisp with the chill of the departing night, Cayal turned and headed for the temple, wondering how

  Kentravyon had fared. Cayal had not checked on him for hours. Nor had he heard anything. The wounded were there, according to the villagers sheltering on the escarpment. Maybe ...

  Cayal's thought was cut short by an enraged scream, followed by a crash so powerful it made the ground shake. He traded a surprised look with the lad who had been sent to show him the location of the wells amid the wreckage of the little town. He looked up in time to see a block of masonry tumbling down the cliff above him. The large granite block crashed and bounced down into what was left of the devastated village.

  'Look out!'

  Cayal looked up. A second massive block was almost on them. Reflexively, he redirected it with the Tide, forcing it to make a sharp turn to the left. It tumbled down to land harmlessly in the water near the stumps of the town's single wooden jetty.

  Cayal swore savagely for a moment and then broke into a run, scrambling up the cliff face until he reached the top. The scene that greeted him was completely unexpected. Kentravyon stood in the middle of the wounded — perhaps forty or fifty of them laid out in neat rows — confronting a very furious Declan Hawkes who looked utterly enraged. This surprised Cayal, because he'd assumed the blocks hurtling off the cliff had come from Kentravyon.

  'Tides, you almost flattened me, you fool!' he exclaimed, walking into the centre of the temple. If these people had built it on Kentravyon's command, they must have done it eons ago. The place was a ruin, barely more than a few moss-covered pillars holding up a fading memory of the past. 'What the hell is going on?'

  'He killed them.'

  Cayal stared at Declan for a moment and then looked around at the unnaturally silent wounded

  laying about the ruins. Every one of them was silent, their arms crossed over their chests, their eyes open and staring, as dead eyes always were. It was only then that he realised what Hawkes meant.

  'I eased their pain,' Kentravyon corrected, as the dreadful truth sank in. 'And this ungrateful whelp is abusing me for it.'

  Cayal looked around, frowning. 'They're all dead, Kentravyon.'

  'Gods are a lot easier to venerate if they're easing their worshippers' pain, not contributing to it. That's what you said. That's what I did. Their pain is eased. They will suffer no more.'

  Cayal glanced at Declan. He could feel the barely leashed anger from where he was standing, which was worrying because the Rodent was fair trembling with the Tide, the ripples he was making on it both erratic and dangerous. They'd stopped here to let the Tide go, and ended up using it even more. If Cayal was feeling the strain, Hawkes — so unused to the sensation — would be feeling it tenfold.

  'Say "I told you so", Rodent, and you will regret it.'

  Declan shook his head, his fists clenched by his side so tight his knuckles were white. 'What do we do?'

  Cayal shrugged. 'Get out of here before someone comes to check on the wounded, is my suggestion.'

  'But he's killed them all!'

  'All the more reason to get the hell away from here.'

  Kentravyon shook his hand. 'We're not going anywhere until this disrespectful nobody apologises.' 'Apologises?'

  Hawkes's refusal to give Kentravyon what he wanted infuriated the older Tide Lord. Cayal felt the Tide surging around him. Another block of tumbled masonry was suddenly hurtling across the ruin, over the neat rows of the dead Kentravyon had so carefully laid out.

  Cayal ducked reflexively as the boulder flew over his head to land far below in the water behind them. Some of the survivors — who'd probably come to see what all the fuss was about — were in a panic. There were screaming people running everywhere. Cayal wasn't sure if they were panicking over the flying masonry or the dead they were beginning to discover.

  It was time to leave. But neither of the other two seemed to realise that. The Rodent was too angry, Kentravyon too full of divine indignation.

  This is why I want to die.

  The thought flashed through his mind, reminding him of the countless times he'd seen this very situation before. The details might be different, but the result of two opposing Tide Lords, both thinking they were in the right, was always the same and always bad for any mortal unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity.

  Possessing the only clear head amongst them, Cayal looked around for something large and flat to take the place of their rug. Their magic carpet — as Hawkes insisted on calling it — was back on the beach south of the town. For what Cayal had in mind, he didn't have the time to retrieve it. Another block hurtled past him and crashed into what little was left of the village below. There Cayal spied something that might suffice, that might even perform better than their missing rug.

  Cayal turned his back on the warring immortals, and then, using the Tide, he lifted a large — albeit somewhat tattered — section of thatched roof that had been standing on its edge against the cliff, displaced by the tidal wave. He jumped off the cliff as it rose from the ground, leaping aboard the roof-section and soared out to sea. He felt a surge on the Tide behind him ... or rather, a confused series of them. Kentravyon and Hawkes were settling their differences. Hawkes was using raw power and absolutely no finesse to divert the blocks and send them back the way they'd come.

  Cayal's blood sang with the Tide, and for a moment he remembered what it was to want this, not to dread it.

  And then he pushed the thought aside, skimming the tattered roof-section out over the water so far the land became a blur of the horizon. Once he was far enough out to be lost to sight, he banked to the left, heading back toward the coast in a wide circle that would bring him around behind the other two Tide Lords. There was no way to stop either of them feeling Cayal's manoeuvring on the Tide, but hopefully Hawkes would keep Kentravyon distracted long enough for Cayal to reach them.

  The water sped beneath Cayal in a grey-blue blur that soon changed to a rushing green smear as he reached the coast and headed inland.

  With the wind rushing through his hair — he wasn't wasting Tide power on protecting himself from the elements — Cayal banked again, heading back to Blackbourn, riding his thatched roof like the children of the Chelae Islands, riding the waves off the beach of their homeland. He could feel the other immortals in the distance, battling each other on the Tide. It felt like a fairly even fight, which meant the Rodent was managing to hold his own. The thrum of the Tide cantillated through him, the exhilaration of riding it so wantonly enough to make him forget the reason he was here. Then another surge on the Tide, erratic and dangerously close, reminded him of his purpose. Cayal banked his thatched platform again and headed back toward the coast; back toward what was left of the village of Blackbourn. And Kentravyon.

  The mad Tide Lord didn't see him coming. He had his back to Cayal and, in any case, was too engrossed trading missiles with Hawkes, who was proving to be a disturbingly quick study when it came to manipulating the Tide. Cayal bore down on him, catching sight of the ruined temple on the cliff top as he approached.

  He was barrelling toward Kentravyon at a dangerous speed, determined to reach him before he had time to register what was happening. At the last minute, Kentravyon must have noticed the disturbance on the Tide behind him. He glanced over his shoulder in time to register shock as the roof-section took him in the back of the knees, knocking him off his feet and backwards onto the thatching. Cayal sped on, aiming the roof at the Rodent next, but the Rodent wasn't as stupid as he looked. He could see Cayal coming and he threw himself onto the platform as it approached, rather than be barrelled over by it as they passed.

  Kentravyon struggled to sit up as they climbed into the morning sky at a speed that soon took them far from the Stevanian coast. Cayal could feel Kentravyon's irritation, feel him drawing the Tide to himself to retaliate, the Rodent's equally furious response building up in reply.
Before the mad immortal or the dangerously inexperienced Rodent could do anything about it, however, Kentravyon's fist connected squarely with Hawkes's jaw. He fell backward, arms and legs flailing, as he tumbled from the platform and into the icy water beneath.

  Cayal slowed his thatched craft and banked again, looking at Kentravyon in surprise. Then he shook his head in wonder.

  'All the power of the Tide is yours to command, Kentravyon, and you decide to take on another Tide Lord with your fist?'

  Kentravyon was grinning, unable to quash the exhilaration he was feeling from swimming the Tide. He was on his knees, still trying to find his balance on the thatching. 'It worked, didn't it? He wasn't expecting it. He's let the Tide go. And he needed cooling off. Not handling this at all well, if you ask me.'

  Cayal realised Kentravyon was right. The shock of someone belting him in the face had had the desired

  effect on Hawkes. Cayal glanced over the side and spied the Rodent bobbing up and down in the water, no longer swimming the magical Tide, too preoccupied, apparently, with treading water on the more mundane one.

  'He's going to be pissed at you, Kentravyon.'

  'He already was.'

  Kentravyon had a point. Cayal glanced down at Hawkes again and then grinned. 'Wonder how long it would take him to find us again if we left him down there?'

  For a moment, Kentravyon grinned back at Cayal like a conspirator. 'I'm game if you are.'

  Cayal considered the very tempting prospect of leaving the Rodent down there, bobbing in the ocean, thousands of miles from anywhere significant. Then he sighed and began to lower their thatched platform toward the water. 'We'd better not,' he told Kentravyon. 'For one thing, we need him to open the rift when we get back to Jelidia. For another, he's likely to decide to solidify the sea, or something equally disastrous, so he can walk back to dry land. Amyrantha isn't quite ready for another Cataclysm just yet.'

  Kentravyon looked at him askance. 'You're willing to destroy the planet in order to take your own life, Cayal, but you're worried about another Cataclysm? And people call me the crazy one.'

  'You're worse than the Rodent. And you said you didn't know for certain that opening the rift will destroy Amyrantha,' Cayal said, getting a little tired of everybody's constant attempts to make him feel guilty about wanting to die.

  Kentravyon didn't answer him. They'd reached the water and Hawkes was swimming toward them, looking very unhappy. Cayal leaned forward and helped him clamber aboard.

  'Enjoy your dip?' Cayal asked, not sure what Declan was planning to do next. He hadn't taken hold of the Tide again, which was reassuring.

  He wasn't pleased, though, and his jaw was bruised, although it was healing as they spoke. Kentravyon must have hit him hard.

  'That was your idea of helping, was it?'

  'You two were randomly throwing granite blocks around,' Cayal reminded him. He levelled the platform and began to move it over the wavetops toward Torlenia. 'You ready to move on now ... God?'

  'You mock me at your peril, Cayal.'

  'No, I don't, Kentravyon. Although it would be nice to think you really were as divine as you think you are.'

  'Why do you wish for that? Even now, knowing I am God, you do not worship me.'

  'No,' he agreed, taking a seat on the thatching. 'I don't. But that's not because I don't believe that you believe you're God. It's because if you really were God, Kentie, my old friend, we wouldn't have to go to all this trouble because you'd already have the power to help me die.'

  Kentravyon didn't answer him. Hawkes said nothing either, as they sped east. He just sat there, dripping and glowering, and wrestling — Cayal had no doubt — with his own internal demons.

  CHAPTER 16

  'She's gone!' Lyna announced, slamming the door behind her.

  Jaxyn looked up from the map he was studying in what had once been the elegantly decorated study belonging to Stellan Desean. He was still debating the best way to approach Caelum. Should he concentrate his forces on Cycrane, or spread them thinner and attack even more of the coastline simultaneously? It was a tricky problem. And he certainly wasn't in the mood for Lyna, whose role as his fiancee was becoming increasingly irrelevant. Soon he would be in a strong enough position to be rid of her entirely.

  But for now, he was required to humour her. 'Who is gone, my dear?'

  'Your precious little duchess.'

  Jaxyn swore under his breath and pushed the map aside. 'How long?'

  'Since she fled? Only an hour or two, I gather.' She crossed the room and then stopped at the desk, putting her hands on the edge of its polished surface and leaning forward until she was only a few inches from his face. Lyna's breath frosted as she spoke. Impervious to the weather, like all immortals, Jaxyn hadn't bothered to light a fire and the room was icy. 'I warned you it was stupid to let them have the run of the palace.'

  He didn't move, or even lean backward. 'I believe you merely remarked it might be unwise.'

  'Turns out I was right, however much you want to quibble about semantics.'

  'Did the old man go with her?'

  Lyna nodded. 'Of course. She'd not leave him behind. Family loyalty and all that. Tides, she's as tiresomely loyal to her family as any one of Syrolee's clan.'

  'Then they won't have gone far. In fact, I can pretty much tell you where they'll be heading.' He rose to his feet, forcing Lyna to move back.

  She was sceptical of his boast. 'You think you know your little duchess so well?'

  'I know her history,' he said, walking around the desk. 'She has few real friends she can turn to, particularly within reach of the palace.'

  'She's long gone, Jaxyn. You've lost your leverage and any use she might have been in bringing her husband to heel, because you're always thinking with your cock instead of your head.'

  The temptation to slap Lyna was almost overwhelming. Fortunately, Jaxyn understood the futility of such a gesture, despite the momentary gratification he might have gained from it. He stayed his hand, sneering at her instead.

  'She'll be back in the palace by nightfall,' he said, crossing the elegant rug to reach the door. Jerking it open, he turned to his increasingly unnecessary fiancee. 'And now, if you don't mind, I'm busy.'

  'Want some help getting them back?'

  'They won't get far in this weather.'

  Lyna glanced at the two tall windows flanking the fireplace and the clear skies beyond. The day was a rare one in Glaeba — bright and clear, although there was little warmth in the winter sunlight. 'There's nothing threatening about the weather.'

  'Not yet there isn't,' Jaxyn agreed. And then he smiled. He couldn't help himself. 'Give me an hour, and then we'll see how far they get.'

  * * *

  Jaxyn was as aware as any other Tide Lord of the danger of messing with local weather patterns. It was that, as much as his desire to remain undetected, that had forced him to be so cautious when he froze the Great Lakes. Although it was necessary to freeze the lakes in order to facilitate his invasion of Caelum to rid himself of Syrolee and Engarhod — and the threat of having two equally powerful Tide Lords, Elyssa and Tryan, residing on the same continent at High Tide — he had done it very slowly.

  This was a somewhat different situation. He didn't need a big storm. Just a very small and localised one and, while it would have consequences elsewhere, they were nothing he couldn't deal with.

  One of the Crasii grooms brought his saddled horse around from the stables, its shod hooves clacking loudly on the cobblestoned pavement at the front of the palace, as Jaxyn drew on the Tide. It was not enough to alert any other immortal — except Lyna who was in the vicinity and knew the reason for the storm — but enough to make storm clouds gather overhead with unnatural speed. He had done much the same the day he called up a localised storm to sink the royal barge, killing King Enteny and Queen Inala. He turned the horse for the gates and set off at a trot, the temperature already dropping.

  With the sky darkening as he rode, Jaxyn's st
orm ran ahead of him, heading for the one place he was sure Arkady and her father would take shelter — Clyden's Inn; home of that annoying one-armed miner- turned-tavern keeper. A place where it was easier to find a rumour than a meal. The only place near Lebec Palace Arkady and her father might reasonably reach in a couple of hours on foot.

  He might be wrong. Arkady and her father might have headed across country to the city, but he doubted it. Arkady had it in her to traipse across the countryside through knee-deep snow, but her father

  wasn't a young man. Although Jaxyn had healed him after his suicide attempt — and by default probably restored his health to the best it had been in years — he'd been incarcerated for a long time. Bary Morel didn't have the stamina to handle a cross-country flight and Arkady would not risk him failing or succumbing to hypothermia.

  No, Jaxyn reasoned, the safest haven is also the easiest to reach. Clyden's Inn.

  By the time the crossroads came into sight, the storm, localised though it was, had already whipped up a frenzy of sleet, rain and ice. Visibility was down to a few feet. Wind-driven snow sliced almost horizontally across the road. The wind-chill factor was bordering on fatal to any mortal caught out in the storm. The trees beside the road bent over so far they seemed to be bowing to Jaxyn as he rode past. For a fleeting moment, he wondered how much collateral damage he was causing. Would the storm abate when he was done, and expose fields littered with dead Crasii caught in the tempest?

  Jaxyn hoped not. It would be damned inconvenient to lose skilled farm workers just to retrieve Arkady and her wretched father from a tavern.

  The inn and the countryside around it were suffering badly from the blizzard when Jaxyn arrived. He dismounted, extending his magical protection to include his mount. He didn't want the horse dropping dead, leaving him no choice but to walk back to the palace. As he approached the door, the wind howled around the walls of the inn. The air was white and the Tide tingled along every nerve he owned. Perhaps, if Arkady was here, he'd be able to relieve the tension by using her to assuage his lust. The thought wasn't as attractive as it might once have been. Arkady's value to Jaxyn, in the current political climate, required her to remain whole and unharmed. This was the main reason he'd agreed to house arrest for her and her