by Ashley Capes
“You didn’t pass him on your way up?” Never asked.
“He’d have been long gone by the time we woke,” Luis said. “That wasn’t just smoke, whatever it was he did. My head still aches.”
Elina nodded in agreement, then shrugged. “We won’t catch him up here.” She strode for the edge of the plateau and started down the worn ladder. Never climbed last, finding that, despite the greying wood, the ladder was strong. And long enough that surely someone had helped Cog haul him up?
Or was it evidence of more strange magic?
At the bottom, they bypassed the inn itself, meeting the thin innkeeper at their boat. “All loaded for you,” he said, patting the stern. “I’ve thrown in a few extra supplies too, kindling and the like, if you need to camp on stone. Good to see you’ve returned, Never.”
He grinned at the man. “Does your famous beef come in those supplies?”
“It’s better hot but there’s a surprise in there,” he said.
“Did you see Cog leave?”
“Can’t say I did.” Oksar appeared troubled. “It wasn’t until I happened to check on Lady Elina that I thought to search for him. But no signs and I can’t say I remember his boat either.”
Elina thanked him and accepted one more item from the innkeeper, a hard leather case such as those used by couriers. She took the oars and Never considered asking her about it... but she wasn’t likely to share and it would have had something to do with the rebels, surely. And besides, Never had a new secret of his own.
And he had yet to decide whether he would share it.
Even with Luis.
If he could trust anyone, it was probably Luis. The man’s loyalty was above reproach but still Never hesitated. Old habits? Or new fears? He could not deny that Snow’s betrayal stung, even as it made little sense.
Besides, if it was some sort of ploy, if Snow wanted more than he let on – as he invariably did if the elaborate message was any indication – then it was better to protect Luis and Elina by keeping them safe in ignorance. Or at least, not to worry them over something he could not yet explain, let alone prove.
Chapter 8.
Rinsa River widened as it snaked into the hills and their mighty stone walls. The patterns on the rock face changed as Never rowed and dark water flowed beneath the boat, the current slowing. Once, Never caught sight of some sort of bottom-feeding flatfish near the shallows but his eyes were drawn always back to the carvings.
While first they seemed to be mostly related to the Hanik kingdom – the domed trees or stern, bearded faces of old kings or even proud archers, the carvings soon grew older. Many were filled with deep green moss and red lichen. One image showed an open pair of hands, fingers spread to what appeared to be an inhuman gap – an echo of one of the symbols on Snow’s die? Others were more detailed, appearing to show scenes of worship at altars crested by heavy tomes – yet it was hard to be certain. Those unmarred by moss were worn down by the centuries.
“So many Amouni markings,” he said.
“We have always considered them such,” Elina replied. “This stretch of the Rinsa is often called the ‘Old River’.”
The Rinsa soon curved around a long bend, narrowing as it flowed beneath a high stone arch. More Amouni markings covered the arch; now thin knives crossed at the blade. As the day wore on, during one of his turns on the rudder, Never guided the boat close to the wall where the current once again slowed to spread into a pool.
“What are you looking for?” Luis asked as he pulled the oars in.
“There, by the waterline – doesn’t that look like writing?”
“Runes,” Elina said.
As the boat scraped stone, Never caught the rockface, holding them in place where the current was weakest. He leant down, touching a rune – the half-moon that had been slashed twice.
Were the runes familiar? Beyond the dice, the sound of the runes. He could almost... “Estayeta jin nysor.”
“What does it mean?” Luis asked.
“I have no idea,” he said. But the words lingered. Estayeta jin nysor. There was something about them... something mother used to sing? Or chant? “But I feel as if I should know them.”
A blue-banded dragonfly zigzagged across the water.
Never released the wall and sat back down to turn the tiller. The boat slid into the centre of the river, the current pulling them slowly forward. Luis had not resumed rowing.
“Keep going,” Elina said. “We cannot tarry.”
Luis nodded, putting the oars back into the water. “Three days yet to the city.”
Elina nodded.
“Will you search for the prince first, or head for the palace?” Never asked.
“The palace. Prince Jenisan should be there already.”
“And if not? If Karlaf could not find him?” Never asked. “Or worse, if King Noak is already lost?”
Her eyes flashed. “Then I will find whoever is responsible and Bekana War-God help them.”
“We will help you,” Never said. To a point.
Luis nodded.
“Thank you both.”
“Do you still suspect the nobles? Baron Denarc and whoever else?”
“Gedus. And yes... but we have no proof. For now, only Gedus’ not-very secret desire to rule – I suspect he hopes the Vadiya will set him up as a ruler beneath them when or if they seek to expand their Empire further. Jenisan may know more by now.”
“Then we row on,” Never said.
By evening, Never had taken another turn at the oar and was now lowering a slab of rock across the mooring rope and turning back to the campsite with a sigh. Not that it was much of a site – an uneven depression beside the river, littered with old, damp leaves from elm trees growing high above.
The same leaves spotted the river, like gold and green flecks bright against the black of the water as darkness continued to fall. They ate a cold meal – Oksar’s leftovers, which were very agreeable – and sought rest early.
Never lay back, cloak beneath his head. The stone was hard under the bedroll, but his shoulders and back ached from all the rowing. It was a joy simply to be still. A small weight rested against his chest and he reached into an inner pocket. Smooth as glass – he retrieved the object.
The tiny figure within the orb stood straight, one hand shaded as if searching for something.
An apt pose, little fellow.
Never replaced the strange artefact and closed his eyes. “Wake me when it’s my turn,” he told Elina, who sat above them on first watch.
“I will.”
*
Morning brought stiff limbs and a pounding headache. Never growled as he stood. He ought to have slept in the boat. Next time he would. He fumbled in his pack for water then, after drinking, lay by the crumbling edge of the bank and dunked his head into the flow.
It didn’t banish the ache in his temples but it woke him the rest of the way.
Luis stood nearby – he’d stopped adjusting the bindings on his spear to stare. “Never, you’re a madman.”
“Somewhat.” He looked around. “Elina?”
“She needed a moment to herself,” Luis said.
“Ah.” Never began loading the boat. He shooed away a pair of dragonflies as he did. This time blue and purple. What had Elina said about them earlier? The purple ones bite. He ran through a series of stretches before returning to the boat, this time seating himself in the prow.
Once Elina joined them Luis pushed off and the boat was soon sliding between the walls of stone once more. And soon enough they would see City-Sedrin on the banks of the river.
And maybe answers.
There was every chance Snow was lying, that it was a ploy to drag Never into something. And something Never would have to shield Luis and Elina from. Was it more of Snow’s thirst for Amouni objects of pow
er? Could such amulets be the items used to change the man who called himself Cog? Too many questions. But one thing Never would bet upon – there was every chance Lord Gedus and his ilk weren’t the only ones behind the upheaval in Hanik at all. After all, Snow had caused enough trouble for the Bleak Man – why wouldn’t he poison a king too?
Never shook his head. If Snow did know something about Father... all that was left to Never after so many years searching were the dice and his mother’s bitter words about a ‘man who fled, taking the warmth of the night with him’. She ought to have been a bard. But it left an obvious suspicion; Father had something to do with the Amouni – who else would have passed down such a curse? Quisoan blood held no such terrors and Mother had never drained a man. Her blood, whenever she cut her finger cooking, had never leapt forth, spinning and glistening in the air.
The smart thing to do would be to snoop around the Temple of Jyan first.
And wouldn’t Snow be expecting that?
Was that the real reason for Cog and his dramatics? To set Never off-balance, to have him second-guess everything?
Too long since he’d seen Snow, not since that night in the towers of the Imperial City. The last time he’d seen Zia too.
Damn you, brother.
He had no choice but to walk in expecting duplicity, even if Snow had no true reason to harm him. Never waved at another dragonfly that had swept over to hover near his hand. Bigger than others he’d seen; its body was black with a bright gold head. Its wings almost hummed.
The insect flew up behind him.
A moment passed and then a splat. He twisted.
Elina was wiping the blade of a dagger on the gunwale. “Never, did that dragonfly bite you?”
“No.”
“Did it land on you?”
“No. What’s wrong?”
Luis had paused in his rowing. Elina stood, shielding her eyes against the sun where it bounced from the river’s surface. “They’re poisonous, worse than the purple ones. Too many bites and you could die. Their feet carry the same poison, though less.”
“What do we do?”
“So long as we’re not approaching a nest...” she trailed off, eyes widening.
Never spun back to the water. A cloud of black and gold insects poured from the rocks ahead. Several smaller groups led the pack, but in all they had to total hundreds. “Gods be damned, what do we do?”
Elina was tearing through her pack. “This isn’t their season.”
“I don’t think they’re aware of that.”
Finally she pulled flint and tinder. “I need the kindling.”
“What?” Never gaped at her.
“The smoke, they don’t like smoke.”
The humming buzz of the swarm grew. Never turned back to Elina. “We can’t set the boat on fire.”
“Can we just jump into the water?” Luis asked. He had one oar across his knee and the other held like a club.
“Unless you can stay beneath for hours; they’ll just bite our heads.”
Never growled. Cog could have used his fancy magic to deal with the dragonflies. The insects were closing in. “It’s not going to work –”
Water exploded.
A huge, glistening body of mud-coated gold roared from the river, twisting and snapping at the swarm. It hung in the air a moment, scales catching the sun, and then the giant fish crashed down. Waves rocked the boat and the splash dumped half the river on them.
Never spat water and soggy leaves, blinking furiously.
The swarm of dragonflies had fled, those that had not been devoured, black trails streaming away from the boat. Many of the insects had fallen and were struggling on the river’s surface.
Some strayed near the boat but a trembling Luis swatted at them with his oar. Never exchanged a glance with the younger man. What had happened? Had a giant fish truly saved them? It must have taken up a third of the width of the river – the single glimpse Never got of its mouth convinced him it could have swallowed the boat whole.
But the swarm was scattered – for now – the fish had saved them.
Chapter 9.
“How do we know that monster won’t return for us?” Luis asked. He glanced to the dark water often, made blacker by the tall stone around them that continued to block much of the sun. Heat still found a way down to the water; bouncing from the hard-baked rock, but after being doused with half the Rinsa, it was a welcome warmth.
Elina continued to row, her face set. “We don’t.”
Never sighed. “Of course we don’t. We just have to blindly keep on in hope, don’t we?”
“No trails from here on. And a month detour to go around, maybe more,” she said. “I won’t wait that long; Noak might be dying.”
“So might we soon,” Luis said.
“Yes.”
He leant back against the tiller, expression dark. Never took a swig from his flask. Hard to blame Luis for being upset. The giant could return at any time. River Rinsa remained wide and they continued to pass through a series of pools, each seemingly deep enough to hold anything.
Never narrowed his eyes at the surface himself – had that been a flash of gold, deep down?
“Did you see the mud? He was old,” Never said, tapping a finger against the boat.
“Only a few more hours – we can survive this,” Elina replied.
“Maybe he’s had his fill of insects and he won’t care to follow us?” Never continued. And perhaps he was saying it to bolster his own confidence. For truly, what could they do against such a foe? It would be exactly like the Gods to throw such a thing in his path.
No-one answered.
Never kept an eye on the water as the boat surged ahead. Was Elina rowing harder than usual? Good. Yet the water remained calm. The current pulled their vessel toward a shadowy part of the river and into a sharp curve, the walls almost turning in on themselves, like a horseshoe. High upon the walls dark shapes were attached – huge banks of dry mud with circular openings.
“I didn’t think dragonflies lived in mud nests,” Never whispered.
“The gold ones do,” Elina said, her own voice hushed as she rowed, her strokes softer through the river. Luis swallowed.
But no insects appeared.
Ahead, the Rinsa snaked in the opposite direction, curving like an S and then it opened up again, streaming between columns of stone that rose up from the river’s centre. Some were thin and others hogged half the river; Never worked the rudder constantly. On one of the columns lay more markings – only they were Hanik writings.
“What do they say?” he asked.
Elina sneered as she spoke. “It’s a lie, an old lie. It says ‘Noak’s line is the line of thieves and usurpers’.”
Never adjusted the tiller again, angling between two short stump-like rock formations. “Political adversaries?”
“So they think themselves. But the Pathless-Ones are not in contention for the throne. They simply wish it were so. This would have been written when Noak was young.”
“No-one thought to remove it?” Luis asked.
“I asked the same thing of Jenisan once and he told me he believes his father lets it remain as a sign of his contempt for them. They are beneath his notice.”
“Could they be behind Noak’s poisoning?”
“Doubtful. They are not that resourceful; they tend to lurk beyond the city within smaller villages nowadays.”
“I suspect we’ll find out soon enough,” Never said.
Obstructions gradually lessened yet the river remained wide, and once, the bottom of the boat scraped something.
“What was that?” Luis asked, his voice a little shrill. He was rowing now and Elina had taken the tiller.
“Stone,” Elina replied. She pointed from the prow. “We’re nearing the Pool of Leaves; the river will
speed up again soon. We’ll reach the city before nightfall at this rate.”
“Good. I could use a long bath,” Never said.
The Pool of Leaves soon appeared before them. The stone walls had begun a gradual slope and now more elms grew along the ridge, dropping more and more leaves. They littered the surface, bunching up beyond the current. The walls of stone and hills had become a line of trunks, towering over them, nonetheless.
The pool itself was vast – almost a small lake.
Yellow and green leaves floated across the dark surface. One spun down from a tree overhead as the boat slid into the pool. It slowed and Luis pulled a little harder on the oars. A stretch of water this size; it was the perfect home for a large fish – and with a glance at the others, it was clear; everyone was thinking as he.
He stared into the water.
Too dark.
Halfway across, the boat rocked. Something had rippled the water, deep below.
“Faster,” Elina cried.
Luis strained at the oars but the boat rocked again; this time it tipped to one side. Never clung to the wood, countering. “We need to drive it off.”
Gold surged up from the depths beneath them.
Elina wrenched the rudder and the boat shifted as a scaled monster surged free, water spraying from its body. It had the look of a catfish, though its eyes were large orbs and its body was more vibrant in colour, even if its underbelly was whitened with age and remained streaked with mud. The fish completed its arc, plunging into the water, drenching them once more. The small boat was tossed about on the wave.
Never struggled for balance. His heart thumped within his chest.
What could they do?
He’d barely steadied himself when the fish struck the boat another glancing blow – flinging him into the river.
Black devoured him.
It pressed against his limbs as he kicked for the light. The power of the monster’s passing beneath him tossed him off course. He flailed; Gods, it would eat him alive!
Something caught his leg.
His heart leapt against his chest as he kicked, but the fish dragged him deeper into the cold depths. The light above dwindled, receding as black swallowed it up. His lungs strained and he scrambled for a knife – and stopped.