The Cloven Land Trilogy

by Simon Kewin

  “I don't believe in fate,” she said. “We can do what we like. It's a free country.”

  “Actually, it isn't,” said Nox. “It really isn't.”

  “You know what I mean,” she shot back at him.

  Lugg looked thoughtful for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. “I'm sorry, but I'm going to take the Wyrm Way north and find Xoster. I have to.”

  “It's insane, Lugg. You won't stand a chance. You haven't even got any tattoos, just a few bleeding scratches. The riders had them all over their bodies to protect themselves.”

  Lugg shrugged and actually grinned. “True. But I think it's what I have to do. And it's what I want to do. I'll be no use to you in the White City. I'll be no use to you anywhere much. But perhaps I can find Xoster. And perhaps I can survive the meeting and, somehow, be able to help you. Be able to do something.”

  She could see it was useless to argue with him. He reminded her a little of Danny in that moment. The same boyish idiocy. She looked away, down at the map, not wanting to think about Danny. “What is this Wyrm Way?”

  “The path the riders of old took to reach the dragons,” said Phoenix.

  “Here, see,” said Lugg. “This line heading north from Caer D'nar. It's faint now, but just visible if you look closely. A wyrm road leading into the mountains.”

  She studied the map. “I don't see the other end of it. It just fades out.”

  “That's because no one ever knew where it led,” said Phoenix. “The riders who used it – those that came back – were sworn to secrecy. All we know is that somewhere in the far, frozen north there were dragons. And a wyrm road leading to them. Some said the dragons dwelt in a place of perpetual night. Others said that the sun never set there. But none really knew. The place might not even have been on this world at all.”

  “And you think you can go there?” she asked Lugg.

  “Don't know. I think I can try.”

  She turned to Ran. “And will you go with him?”

  She didn't need to be able to see into the dragonrider's mind to know that he wanted to. That he yearned to go north with Lugg to seek this Xoster. For once he seemed undecided. He didn't reply for several seconds.

  In the end he said, in stumbling English, “No. I am sworn to protect you, Cait.”

  His assumption that she needed protecting riled her, but she said nothing. In truth she couldn't help feeling relieved. She needed all the help she could get. She really didn't fancy the idea of heading to the An alone. And without Ran they had no chance. He was the only one who could open the wyrm roads.

  “And you, Nox?”

  He shrugged. “I guess I'll go with you, too. I'm a city person. Quests for mythical dragons aren't really my thing.”

  “We have to head east,” she said to Lugg. “We can't afford a diversion into the mountains. I'm sorry.”

  He shrugged. “Probably best I go alone anyway.”

  She peered at the map once more. She hated to lose Lugg but there appeared to be no choice. “Then the three of us should leave at once. Perhaps if we go the undain will leave Caer D'nar in peace.”

  “Perhaps,” said Phoenix. “And perhaps they won't. I don't think Menhroth will let things lie. He's not really the forgiving type.”

  “Then, I'm sorry,” said Cait. “We had no choice, but maybe we shouldn't have come here.”

  Phoenix shook his head. “I'm glad you did. We all are. It's time for us to do something. But what of you, Cait? Are you up to travelling? A vision like that can take its toll. Sometimes my head throbs so badly all I can do is lie in a shuttered room for days.”

  “I'm fine,” she said, sounding surer than she felt. “We'll head to the archway, try and get there before Charis marches north from the river. Then we only have the small problem of Fiveways. Somehow we have to fight our way through the undain to the other arch. Although I don't see how that's possible.”

  “Actually, we may be able to help there,” said Phoenix. A smile deepened the wrinkles on his face. “Like I said, it's time we did something. It's time we stopped smouldering and burned.”

  They said goodbye to Lugg an hour later. Phoenix and the rest of the Smouldering Fire had equipped him as best they could for a journey into the unknown north. Ran had spent most of the time deep in conversation with the boy, desperately trying to compress a lifetime's knowledge and lore into one hour. Lugg listened and nodded his head again and again. She could feel the emotions churning within him without having to burrow into his mind. Excitement, fear, awe. Most of all, relief. He'd thought his life would be worthless. Empty. And now he had this purpose, this meaning. It made sense of everything. He might die, but at least he knew there was a point.

  She shook her head. The idiot. What was the point of being brave if it meant going and getting yourself killed? She'd done all she could to stop him. She still blamed herself, but there was nothing she could do.

  “Goodbye, Cait,” he said, coming to meet her. “Thank you for everything.” Awkwardly, unsure of his reception, he held out his arms to her.

  She took hold of him and hugged him hard. “I didn't do anything. I blacked out, and they carried me to your house. Big deal.”

  “No. You've changed everything. It's all different because of you. I told you.”

  She let go and looked at him. The chances were she would never see him again. Why did that keep happening? “Lugg, you will be careful, won't you? Don't take any stupid chances. I mean, don't take too many stupid chances. What I said about Xoster was true. She's seriously deranged.”

  “I'll be careful,” he said. “You should be worrying about yourself. You're the one trying to reach the White City. I'd rather face Xoster than Menhroth.”

  She thought about those unblinking red eyes and didn't reply. Lugg released her and turned to go, hefting a leather sack onto his back.

  “Lugg,” she called after him. “I should have told you. I did do something. Sort of. When your cart crashed and you lost all that Spirit, it was our fault. We were there, hiding behind the bank. We spooked the undain. I'm sorry.”

  Lugg considered for a moment then looked amused. “See? I said you changed everything. I thought it was the end of my life at the time, but crashing that cart was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  He turned to pick his way up a snaking path into the mountains, and didn't look back.

  Within the hour Cait and the others were leaving, too. Phoenix and five of the Smouldering Fire accompanied them as they retraced their steps southward. Others had gone ahead to scout the land. More than one chough flapped south or returned north, bearing some message.

  “Anything from the river?” she asked Phoenix. Caer D'nar was already disappearing behind them, nestling back among the mountain peaks. In front of them lay the wide plain strewn with shattered boulders and knife-sharp shards of rock she remembered. The day was bright and clear, the sky blue and cold. There was no sign of any mist just as there was no undain horde thundering across the plain toward them. Not yet, anyway.

  “They still haven't crossed, last we heard,” said Phoenix. “But flying creatures have been spotted on the southern bank. There are boats on the water, too. Barges and rafts being built to carry the army. It won't be long.”

  “If they cross now will they reach the archway before us?”

  “Yes, well before. We have to hope they don't move yet. They may not expect us to return to the wyrm road. If they think we're going to stay in the mountains to defend Caer D'nar, they'll wait a little longer, build up their forces first.”

  “And will you?”

  “Will we what?”

  “Defend Caer D'nar?”

  Phoenix plodded along two, three, four paces before replying. “We'll try. That's all we can do, isn't it?”

  She glanced around, making sure no one else was near. Nox was some way away, lost in his own thoughts. Ran, unusually for him, brought up the rear, looking back again and again to the mountains. Their Smouldering Fire escort w
as fanned out in a circle ahead of them.

  “I suppose,” she said. “It all seems pretty hopeless, though, doesn't it? I don't think we really have much chance of succeeding.”

  “You underestimate yourself.”

  “And you sound like my gran.”

  “Well, she's right,” said Phoenix. “Look how far you've come in such a short time. A little over a week ago you didn't know about any of this. Now you're at the centre of it. Do you think that's coincidence? And do you think it's chance that magic is frost and ice with you? The world is turning cold, the weather is changing. The An is going to freeze. And here you are, just at the right time. A witch who is only going to get stronger as the winter deepens.”

  “What, now you're saying it's my fate to be here as well?”

  “You don't think it is?”

  “No! I don't want to be some sort of stupid chosen one. My gran also told me to be my own woman, not waste my life trying to live up to the expectations of others.”

  “Of course,” said Phoenix. “And again she's right. You must do what you see fit. But here's the world as it is, and here you are. Call that what you like.”

  Cait sighed as they plodded along. “I just wish I had more of a clue what to do. I don't understand half the things that happen.”

  “We have a little time now. It isn't much, but perhaps I can answer a few of your questions.”

  The problem was she didn't know where to start. Even if they could reach the An, how were they going to find the book? And how were they going to cross the river? That was, like, famously impossible. And if, by some miracle, they did all those things, what difference would it make? Her world was still under the thumb of Genera. The undain army was still going to invade Andar. A lot of people were going to die. And worse.

  “I don't know where to start. It all seems so big.”

  “Then start with the little things.”

  “I mean, don't I need to know about, you know, pentagrams and arcane symbols and mystic stuff?”

  Phoenix looked a little amused. “Not really. Some of those things can help. A focus. The problem is people think they're powerful or significant on their own. That all you have to do is draw the right shape and assemble the right components and the magic will work. Which is coming at it completely the wrong way.”

  “OK.”

  “Anything else? There must have been much that didn't make sense in the past week.”

  “OK, so why is it at all ice and frost with me when I work magic?”

  “Sometimes there's no reason for the way magic works. Maybe when your mind was trying to come to terms with what you could do it latched onto that as a way of understanding and stuck with it. Or maybe some magical forebear of yours came from somewhere cold. Or maybe you took to ice because you were afraid of its elemental opposite, fire. Or perhaps it's a bit of all those things.”

  They walked in silence for a few moments while she thought about his words. One other thing had been puzzling her. It was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but Phoenix might know the answer. “OK, then tell me this. My gran told me about paying the price for magic. I get that. But at Greygyle's palace it seemed to work the other way round. I felt really ill and it hurt like hell but that was before I worked any spells. Then I had this sort of moment of clarity when my senses expanded. But it was like I paid for it beforehand.”

  Phoenix nodded, as if that all made sense. “It can be like that for the powerful ones. Because you're more in touch with the flow of magic, so the books say.”

  “So is it ever like that for you?”

  “Me? No, never.”

  “And will it happen like that again?”

  “Perhaps. It's different for everyone. Wasn't Bethany able to explain?”

  “Not really. She sort of comes and goes. Sometimes she's clear, but quite often she's very faint.”

  “I've known her for a long time,” said Phoenix. “She's always been like that. Some days a laughing child, some days an old woman, sullen and withdrawn.”

  It was strange to think of this man communicating with people from back home all this time. “How long have you known her?”

  “Since I was a boy. At first she was one of many voices that came to me through the aether. It took me years to work out who they all were, where they lived. Some I still can't identify.”

  “And you spoke to her?”

  “I listened, mostly. She was already quite old by that time, being dead and all. But we've conversed on occasion, when the aether allows. There's a lot of fear in her. Anger, too. But I expect you know that.”

  Cait thought back to the rider who'd attacked her at Empire Towers. The way Bethany and the other ghosts had swarmed around him and through him. The rider's screams. “Yes. You won't tell anyone about her, will you? It's good to know I'm not alone, whatever else happens.”

  “I won't mention her. And she teaches you about the craft? About working magic?”

  “Some.”

  “Good. You need all the help we can give you.”

  “You could say that. It's been pretty crazy.”

  Phoenix looked thoughtful for a moment as they walked side-by-side. “Actually, there may be another way I can assist. A small thing, but perhaps it will make a difference.”

  “What is it?”

  “The gift of voices.”

  “I don't know what that is, either.”

  “Something people like me have. I think it's because we're so used to hearing people's underlying thoughts as well as what they say out loud. We quickly learn to connect the two.”

  “That's … that's how you can understand me? How you can speak English?”

  “English and a lot of other languages.”

  “And you're saying you can give this ability to me?”

  “With Bethany's help. If it worked you'd be able to understand what people say here in Angere. And Andar, if you ever get there.”

  “Do you know French, too?”

  He looked puzzled at her question, lifting one eyebrow. “Yes, as a matter of fact. There are covens in Paris and many other French cities.”

  “Then it's a shame you couldn't do this earlier. I might have done a whole lot better in my exams.”

  “So you want me to try?”

  “If Bethany's willing.”

  She was aware, dimly, of Phoenix and Bethany conversing. It was weird hearing a whole conversation inside her head, a conversation she wasn't part of. She decided to let them get on with it. It reminded her of being at home in her bedroom, hearing the muffled sound of the TV through the walls as her mum watched one of her endless soaps. Phoenix and Bethany talked backward and forward for a long time. Cait soon forgot about them and plodded along in silence, her stomach fizzing with anxiety as if electricity buzzed through her.

  They camped that night on the open plain. They set up a ring of six fires and slept within. Cait didn't see any sign of spectral mists, but as the darkness gathered and the smoke drifted, she found herself reaching out nervously into the gloom, searching for the aether creature. She got nothing. The call of some night-time beast, like a shriek of agony, was the only sound over the crackle of the fires and the murmur of voices.

  “We'll post guards tonight,” said Phoenix, kneeling beside her. “We'll wake you if anything comes. You should try and get some sleep while you can.”

  She smiled at him and lay on the hard ground. She was weary to her bones from walking. Still she couldn't sleep, fears over what she faced filling her. She lay on her back, gazing at the unfamiliar stars in the black sky. Was one of those glimmers her own sun? Was that how it worked? Or wasn't she even in the same universe? There was no Milky Way to be seen, for one thing. She tried to get her head around it all but failed.

  She thought about Danny. The tears that came made the bright stars blur into smudges. She closed her eyes and, eventually, drifted into troubled slumber. The stars became bobbing werelights that she had to follow, even though there were so many and she
couldn't hope to reach any of them, however hard she tried.

  The archway came within sight late the following morning. The sun was bright ahead of them, blinding, making details hard to pick out. Two Smouldering Fire scouts, swathed in grey to match the rocks, popped up to report no sign of any undain in the area. There was also no word of them crossing the river. Still, Cait and the others approached warily, expecting a trap. Nothing happened. The day stayed calm and quiet as they approached the ancient stones. A faint wind rattled the clumps of dry, scrubby grass that grew here and there.

  Phoenix stood with her in front of the dark archway of the ruined watchtower. “We'll go in alone. Best you stand well back. If this goes wrong it will destroy the building and the archway and everything else in this whole area.”

  “Is it that dangerous?”

  “Yes. Wyrmfire is enormously explosive, at least by the standards of this world. The dragons used to eat a few grains of it. We've got a whole cart-load in there.”

  “What were you planning to do with it?”

  “There are stockpiles at all the watchtowers. We've tunnelled for generations beneath Caer D'nar to amass it all. The plan was always to ignite it if the undain attacked. There are hidden caches between the river and Caer D'nar, too.”

  “But how do you set it off?”

  “Someone has to light the fuse. A desperate measure, but one we're prepared to undertake, if we have to.”

  “And yet you abandoned this stockpile.”

  “We used to watch this archway, long before I came here. But then, as our numbers dwindled, we had to concentrate on the Dragon's Tongue. It seemed unlikely the archway would ever be used again, and it was too dangerous to move the wyrmfire, so we left it here.”

  “And there's a chance it will explode by being moved?”

  “A good chance. It's unstable, especially in large quantities.”

  “Great.”

  “If we do manage to get it through the archway and ignite it, it's going to level Fiveways completely. Even the undain won't survive. It'll give you the chance you need. You can go through before they can reinforce.”