by Lucy Hounsom
A narrow carpet joined the door to a dais at the far end. Veeta had taken a position on the second of its three broad stairs. Tonight only one of the chairs up there was occupied.
Lord Loricus made the stiff seat look like a throne. He lounged on it, arms draped over the sides. Brégenne ground her teeth. Loricus was strong in his power, very strong, but she had never believed that a good enough reason to serve on the Council.
Janus stood poised behind Nediah. The young man’s expression was perfectly neutral, but perhaps he’d caught Brégenne’s glance and smothered his smile. His robes shone like burnished metal.
‘Let us begin,’ Veeta said. She glanced at Loricus, and the councilman nodded, smiling. Brégenne steeled herself. She must not give Loricus the satisfaction of seeing her upset.
Veeta began to speak and Brégenne let the words wash over her. Four decades in Naris. So much time had passed so quickly. What had she really done with the years? A stab of longing for Master Guiliel pierced her chest. Her own mentor had died a week before she was raised to the silver. She had grieved for him, as if for a father, but felt peculiarly strengthened by his death. She hoped she had been as good a mentor to Nediah. She hoped she had instilled in him some part of Guiliel’s wisdom.
Brégenne finally allowed herself to look at her former pupil. She vividly remembered the day they were introduced. Even then he had towered over her, his eyes unerringly able to peer into her soul. Without warning, he’d taken her hands, placing them upon his face. He described himself in much the same way he described the rug in her room, emphasizing colour and shade, correctly guessing she could see neither. She’d snatched back her hands as if his touch had scalded her.
She only realized she was still staring at him when he turned his head to meet her gaze. Brégenne couldn’t seem to look away. Trance-like she stood, letting the moonlight show her his face. Veeta addressed Janus, but Brégenne didn’t hear what was said. Her feet tingled as if they longed to take her somewhere, but she couldn’t move. The palms of her hands began to sweat.
‘Master Brégenne.’
She blinked and slowly turned her head towards the old woman. Veeta watched her with a pale gaze, the folds of skin at her neck sagging in sympathy. Brégenne stared. Her friend’s pity abruptly left her cold.
‘Janus is ready. You must relinquish your bond with your former partner.’
Brégenne nodded. As the more experienced of the two, control of the bond rested with her. It was not within Nediah’s power to dissolve it. She instinctively knew he wouldn’t have complied with the Council’s wishes.
‘Brégenne.’ Veeta’s hand reached out and gently touched her chin. She felt the grain of the other woman’s fingers. What was she waiting for? She concentrated on the link forged between herself and Nediah. She’d never truly examined it before. Remarkable, really, a twisting plait of Solar and Lunar energy, which drew from both to make it work. She stretched herself along it, marvelling at the way the powers were so neatly intertwined.
‘Brégenne!’
Lord Loricus rose to his feet behind the table. In her moonlit sight, his eyes were like dark glass. ‘I am here to ensure you are bonded to Master Janus. Play your part and all will be well. If you continue to hesitate, I shall intervene.’ His fingers twitched.
‘Of course,’ Brégenne said smoothly. She didn’t give herself time to think. She refocused on the bond and withered her Lunar strands. The link frayed and snapped like a boat torn from its mooring.
Footsteps echoed across the marble. She turned. Wordlessly, Nediah strode away. He didn’t look at her, which pained her more than his silence. He flung open a door at the back of the chamber and stepped through, slamming it behind him.
‘What a temper,’ Loricus said. ‘You should be relieved, Brégenne.’
She stood in awful silence, searching. She couldn’t feel him, as hard as she tried.
‘Touch your power,’ Veeta said to Janus, ‘before the sun disappears entirely. I will do the weaving.’
Brégenne opened herself to the Lunar when the old woman asked her to do so. Concentrating harder than ever, she finally felt something. She moved towards it, seeking Nediah, trying to pinpoint his location.
Looking for me?
The words smiled as they sidled into her head. Brégenne pulled back her awareness and slammed the door of her mind. She could feel Janus hovering capriciously outside and misery hit her in a foul wave.
Brégenne sought refuge in the persona she had worn like a second skin. She had crafted it so long ago, to protect her from the things she feared most. Tonight that chill façade felt different, even suffocating, but she pulled it around her like a cloak and pretended it was home.
‘I’d really like to know how you managed to get there.’ The words filtered down to Kyndra and she struggled to make sense of them and failed. ‘That was too close. Are you making dying a habit?’
She couldn’t place the voice, though it was vaguely familiar. Light flickered, surely bright enough to be the sun.
‘That’s right. Open your eyes.’
The flickering was caused by her eyelids, as they lifted and closed, striving to return her to wakefulness. The voice graciously waited.
Kyndra blinked at the gloom. The sunlight must have been an invention of her bruised mind, for nothing eased the shadows but a meagre hand lamp, leaning crookedly against the rock. A woman sat cross-legged beside her. Her elbows rested on her knees and her hands cupped her pointed chin. Long brown hair hung straight into her lap.
Shock jolted Kyndra upright. She’d last seen those almondshaped eyes in a tavern back in Sky Port East. ‘You!’ she gasped.
‘Me,’ Kait said. She stretched like a cat. ‘I’m glad you’re awake. We can’t stay down here forever.’
‘Down here?’ Kyndra repeated dazedly. She gave their immediate area a closer inspection. It seemed to be a tunnel. The lamplight reached only as far as the curving walls allowed. It reminded her of – ‘The archives,’ she said slowly.
‘Very good,’ Kait answered, as if it had been a test. ‘Take a look through that fissure over there.’ She yawned and clasped her knees. Shooting her a suspicious glance, Kyndra put her eye to the stone.
Huge, rectangular shapes loomed up and she jerked away before she realized what she was seeing. She must be behind one of the recesses that held the shelves. Between the books, she saw a slice of gallery, bluish and silent. The Spine was just visible, startlingly narrower than she remembered.
When she turned back, Kait was watching her. The woman’s hair fell casually over one eye when she tilted her head. Kyndra looked at the strong lines of her jaw and swallowed nervously. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘What happened to me? Why are you here?’
Kait climbed to her feet. ‘You’re made of questions, aren’t you? I’m afraid I can only answer the second.’
Kyndra’s head felt light and her chest ached. A sharp intake of breath brought back the memory of floundering alone in that dark and airless space. ‘Why am I alive?’ she asked faintly.
Kait flashed her a sharp, white smile. ‘Because of me. You’re lucky these passages run parallel to the archives and that I found you outside the ninth. If you’d collapsed beyond that gate, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’ She retrieved her lamp and headed up the tunnel. When Kyndra didn’t follow, she glanced over her shoulder. ‘Hurry. We’re still a long way down.’
‘Where are you taking me?’
Kait’s look became withering. ‘Back to civilization. I can’t very well drop you off in the sixth gallery, can I?’
Kyndra stared at her, utterly lost, and Kait’s expression softened. ‘Come on. I’ll explain on the way.’
Kyndra forced her legs to move. She could feel them trembling, like the rest of her. Memories of the last few hours seeped back with every step, and she tried to put them in order. The last thing she recalled was staring at the book, fighting the vision that threatened to sweep her away. Where had it t
aken her and why didn’t she remember getting there? ‘What’s happening to me?’
She only realized she’d spoken the thought aloud when Kait said, ‘Don’t ask me. I’ve heard about your penchant for selfdestruction, but didn’t expect to encounter it first-hand. You know, I had to use a fair amount of air from my own body to save you and that is no mean feat down here.’
Something clicked into place. The lower you go, Nediah had claimed, the less air there was. ‘I think I’m in trouble,’ Kyndra said.
Kait smiled widely. She stopped beside a black hole in the wall, set close to the ground, and beckoned her over. Kyndra crouched down. Darkness flowed from the toothy fissure and she drew back, thinking of sunken ceilings and coffins. ‘It’s only a little way,’ Kait promised, seeing Kyndra’s face. ‘Look, I’ll go first.’ She hunched over and disappeared into the hole like a ferret. ‘Don’t forget my lamp,’ her muffled voice said.
Kyndra glanced at the tunnel. ‘Why can’t we carry on up?’ she called.
Kait said something that sounded ominously like ‘Rock fall’, and Kyndra shuddered. She placed the lamp into the hole. After the first ring of stone incisors, the light showed her a smooth, black throat. ‘I’m through,’ Kait said from somewhere slightly up and to Kyndra’s right. ‘It doesn’t take long.’
Swallowing her fear, Kyndra took a deep breath and wriggled into the crevice, pushing the lamp before her. Her clothes snagged every so often, causing her several moments of panic until they ripped free. The lamplight made her think of a miner’s lantern, its paltry flame the only protection against the endless darkness of the earth. Finally, she could see another light ahead and Kait’s face reappeared.
Kyndra popped out of the hole like a mole into sunlight, blinking in the cobalt glow of another gallery. When she straightened from examining the rips at her knees, Kait pointed at something on the wall. It was the numeral ‘IV’. Kyndra stared at it in consternation and then scanned the chamber for witnesses. Thankfully, it was empty.
‘Master Hebrin’s going to kill me,’ she said, feeling sick.
‘If he finds out.’
Kyndra transferred her confused gaze to Kait. ‘Well, you’re a Wielder, aren’t you? You’ll tell him.’
All traces of Kait’s smile disappeared. ‘Not this time, Kyndra Vale.’
Kyndra studied the other woman silently. Now that they stood in the light of the gallery, she noticed Kait didn’t wear the parted robes that seemed to be standard in Naris. Her clothes were similar to Kyndra’s own: knee-high boots over dark trousers and a pale shirt. A belt, hung with several pouches, cinched her waist. ‘Who are you?’ she asked slowly.
Kait’s look was level. ‘I am a Wielder, but why do you think I’d betray you to Hebrin?’
The pouches on her belt reminded Kyndra of the one Nediah had asked about, the one stolen from Brégenne’s room. The events of the last two days had driven the mystery of the earth from her mind and she still owed Nediah that description.
‘Why wouldn’t you?’ she asked. ‘I can’t go anywhere without you people watching me or bullying or threatening me. And I’m sure Hebrin is going to ban me from the archives because a novice tore up the book I was reading.’
It was hard to tell beneath that strange, subterranean light, but Kyndra thought a predatory glint entered Kait’s eyes. The woman leaned forward. ‘You say “you people”, Kyndra. But they are not my people.’
The sentence hung in the air between them. ‘What were you doing in Sky Port East that day?’ Kyndra asked suddenly.
Kait turned away. She began to walk up the slope that spiralled into the higher galleries. ‘I was looking for someone.’
Kyndra hurried after her. ‘And did you find them?’
Kait didn’t reply. She marched up through the ground in silence and soon Kyndra was too out of breath to ask her anything else. She followed her in and out of the gallery walls, using cunningly disguised crawl spaces. They avoided several gates that way and Kyndra marvelled at the illegal route, knowing she’d never be able to find it on her own.
‘Who else knows about this?’ she asked, as she and Kait cautiously emerged into the second gallery. She studied the slight movement of Kait’s throat as she swallowed.
‘My friends,’ Kait said shortly. ‘As far as the Council know, there is only one way into and out of the Deep.’
‘Kait?’
Both of them jumped. Kyndra spun, expecting to meet Hebrin’s stony stare, but it wasn’t the archivist who stood there.
Kait gave a girlish laugh and leapt at the newcomer. ‘Nediah,’ she said, throwing her arms round his neck, ‘you are far too handsome to go around with that scowl on your face. Why, it’s making your cheeks red.’
Nediah flushed a deeper scarlet and swiftly disentangled himself. ‘What are you doing to Kyndra?’
‘Doing to her?’ Kait arched a pointed brow. ‘Nothing. You make it sound as if she’s fallen foul of some villain.’
‘She has,’ Nediah growled, his cheeks still flaming. ‘Your kind can’t be trusted.’
An ugly glare dashed the smile from Kait’s face. ‘My kind? We are not animals, Nediah. I’d have thought you, of all people, knew that.’
Kyndra, watching the exchange with her mouth slightly open, saw the blood recede blotchily from Nediah’s cheeks.
‘I won’t dredge up our past in front of the girl. I see by your face that you haven’t forgotten a moment of me.’
Pale now, Nediah regarded her warily. ‘I’ll ask you again, Kait. What are you doing with Kyndra?’
The tall woman spun away. ‘Saving her life, if you please, though I haven’t yet heard a word of thanks from her mouth.’
‘Thank you,’ Kyndra muttered, uncomfortable at being caught in the middle of something she didn’t quite understand.
‘What nonsense is this?’ Nediah demanded. He threw a quick look over his shoulder and lowered his voice. ‘The archives are closed. I’m not supposed to be here, only I couldn’t find Kyndra.’
‘The years have dulled your sense of adventure,’ Kait observed.
Nediah ignored her. His eyes travelled over Kyndra, noting the tears in her clothes and the ashen cast to her skin. ‘What happened?’ he asked quietly.
‘I found her expiring outside the ninth gate.’
Nediah shot Kait an incredulous look. ‘That’s impossible.’
‘You really have been around that woman too long.’ Kait folded her arms. ‘If south seventh didn’t run so close to that spiral, I’d never have heard her.’
‘South what? Never mind.’ He returned his gaze to Kyndra. ‘Is this true? How did you get down there?’
Kyndra hugged herself. ‘I don’t know.’ Her voice cracked. ‘I think it was the visions.’
Both Wielders stared at her and Kait uncrossed her arms. ‘What kind of visions?’
‘I can’t remember,’ Kyndra lied, remembering all too well. It had been different this time. Even in the midst of the memories – if that’s what they were – she’d known who she was: Kyndra Vale of Brenwym. Now she remembered how it felt to be someone else. She remembered being a man. She shook her head, suppressing a shudder. She had relived his journey to the archives to steal a book. A book that contained the secret of … there she failed.
‘Nothing at all?’ Nediah asked.
‘It was to do with something that used to be in the archives,’ Kyndra offered. She looked at the slope that led to the second gate. ‘I don’t remember anything between sitting in the antechamber and waking up in the dark. I couldn’t breathe.’
‘Sleepwalking through the archival gates is a rare talent,’ Kait commented drily. ‘But not one I envy. Lucky no one saw her, Nediah.’
‘None of this makes sense,’ Nediah muttered. ‘She couldn’t even open the second gate earlier, let alone the—’
‘Ninth. Lack of air must finally have caught up with her.’
‘I don’t know enough about the lower shields. Maybe—’
&nbs
p; ‘I was coming out, not going in.’
In the uncomfortable silence, both Wielders turned to stare at her. ‘Coming out of the ninth spiral?’ Kait asked, frowning. For the first time, she seemed uneasy.
Kyndra nodded. ‘I remember it.’
Nediah’s face darkened. ‘This can’t go any further,’ he said fiercely to Kait. ‘If it reaches the Council, whatever the circumstances, Kyndra won’t live long enough to take a second test.’
‘And why would I have dealings with the Council?’ Kait answered acidly. ‘Have you forgotten my fall from grace?’
Nediah shot her a silencing glare and then beckoned to Kyndra. ‘I need to get you out of here in case you’re missed.’
Kyndra nodded and looked sidelong at Kait. Obviously, Nediah knew something she didn’t. ‘Make yourself scarce,’ Nediah told the woman tensely. ‘Thank you for keeping her safe.’
Kait observed the flustered man. Beneath her lashes, her eyes seemed full of things unsaid. She stepped close to him, laid her hand upon his cheek and Nediah stiffened. ‘She is a fool,’ Kait breathed. She moved her hand to his chest. It lay there for the briefest of moments and then fell to her side. ‘Don’t close your heart, as she has.’
She spun on her heel then and strode away, returning into the earth. After a few seconds, her voice floated back to them, borne on the still air. ‘I’m not finished with you, Kyndra Vale.’
17
Wordlessly, Nediah and Kyndra made their way out of the archives. The underground space was eerily quiet. Kyndra stared at the semi-precious veins strewn through the rock and caught a murmur of the Spine’s drifting song.
When they reached the antechamber, the ruined book still lay on the desk. Kyndra wondered why Hebrin hadn’t removed it. That was yet another question: how had she managed to break the archivist’s Lunar binding? Perhaps the same way she’d walked through the gates. Kyndra shivered. It’s him, she thought, shrinking away from the vision. He did it.