by Ashley Capes
And squash down the possibility that when he returned, Tsolde and Luis would be gone.
Or worse.
He tapped his horse’s flanks and passed through the blackened husk of the village – Oroluca, that’s what it had been called. Oroluca, which meant Golden Bowl. Named after the sun as it would descend into the wide depression the village sat within and light the grass and surrounding fields; he’d passed through once, years ago. It had been beautiful.
The road drew him deeper into the plains as the afternoon wore down to darkness. There was no sign of the Vadiya, neither slinking about beyond the miserable-looking fields, nor charging along the trail. There was only more rain, more mud.
Overnight he huddled beside the mare in an abandoned hut, various leaks in the roof letting enough rain in to keep him chilled – and worse, to keep the smell of wet horse present. By noon the next day, after a chill wind had dried him off for the most part, he slowed the horse once more as Disan appeared ahead – or smoke from its chimneys at least, visible beyond a rise in the road and swirling up to join the iron-grey sky.
Never slipped into a stand of juniper beneath the rise, tied his horse to a low-hanging branch and climbed to peer down on Disan.
A few dozen white houses with red-tiled rooves, all slick from last night’s rain, surrounded a well. Folks in typical Marlosi robes had queued up, the red, yellow and green stripes muted from a distance. The inn, a sprawling building with a small watch tower, stood at one end of the well’s square. From his vantage point he also indentified the red glow of a smithy, it coloured a figure walking back and forth before the forge. Beside it stood a building with the sign for healer above its door.
Aside from the well, the town was quiet. Even the fields surrounding Disan showed no movement between the rows of grain. Was that a good sign? Hard to tell. At least here he noted some signs that the Vadiya were organising or allowing harvest. Never pulled out the crystal marble and held it within his palm.
The wooden figure within held up two hands, forefingers crossed – a common gesture for danger.
Never replaced the crystal with a sigh.
Trouble it would be then.
And soon enough it came – as a Vadiya Steelhawk strode up to the well, demanded someone fill his pail with water and returned to one of the houses once the job was done.
“Ah, there it is.”
Never leant against a trunk a moment, then pushed himself off and left the treeline, approaching the town at a walk. The one Vadiya he did see hadn’t seemed in the midst of a killing frenzy, but had demanded water of the residents. More like the actions of an occupying force.
Perhaps that meant the Vadiya were letting the town operate as normal?
He didn’t have time to formulate a convoluted plan – a certain amount of boldness would have to do. Which meant walking directly into Disan, buying whatever he could from the healer then walking out again without being questioned by the Vadiya. Anything else probably meant Luis wouldn’t survive.
Even so, a robe wouldn’t hurt when it came to blending in.
A soft rain began to fall when he reached the first home. Never left the road and moved between two buildings, their high windows holding drawn curtains. The murmur of voices came from within, words indiscernible. Nearer the smithy, he paused when a figure hurried along a garden path but the woman did not look around, her dark hair beaded with water.
He walked a little quicker now, stopping along the side of the smithy at the sound of raised voices.
“Don’t talk about that,” a man said, his voice gruff.
“Maybe they’ll come here. You never know,” replied another man, sounding younger, sounding as though he was fighting to keep hope from his voice. “Those travellers that came through yesterday said Captain Sirgeto is actually winning. Said that they’ve started chasing down the Vadiya now and they’re driving them out of the villages.”
A snort. “Score of ex-Imperial troops won’t win anything, Pio.”
Pio lowered his voice. “They say he’s up to a hundred men already.”
“Farmers and fools flocking to join him,” the gruff man snapped. “And all they’ll do is bring the full force of the Vadiya down upon themselves. Or us, so I don’t want to hear another word.”
Never turned back, moving around the rear of the building to approach the healer’s home from the other side. He didn’t want either of the men to notice him, if possible. Their conversation had been educational at least. Sirgeto was drawing men – and attention – upon himself. Even more reason to avoid the fighting, yet Never had to wish the man luck. More useful however, was learning that the Vadiya did seem to let travellers into and out of Disan. Maybe there was a chance – assuming the healer had something powerful enough to help Luis.
And that Never could bring it back in time.
Before stepping into the street he checked for signs of Steelhawks, then knocked on the healer’s door.
“Yes?”
“I am a traveller seeking medicine,” Never said.
“You’re welcome, but be quick,” came the reply.
Never pushed the door open and stepped into a dimly lit room, the spicy scent of grenvera strong. An iron-haired woman sat behind a counter, hands busy as she tied several pouches for a waiting customer.
Something about the man was familiar – Never tensed.
What was it? The hair? The clothing? The stranger glanced back over his shoulder, revealing a plain face and a small smile.
“I won’t be long, traveller.”
Cog.
Never reached for a blade but the man turned and shook his head, tilting it toward the woman. “Be calm,” he said. “We wouldn’t want anything untoward to happen, would we?”
“Indeed,” Never said with a frown. What was Cog up to? Snow had sent him to Marlosa, surely, but why? There was no way Snow could have known where Never would be... so it had to be something else.
The healer paused at her work, glaring at them. “I don’t need you fools causing a fuss. Those damn Steelhawks will tear this place apart if you keep on.”
Cog turned and sketched a bow. “No trouble, we will take our discussion elsewhere once our business is complete.”
She grunted and finished up, handing over the pouches and accepting the money Cog offered.
The man gestured to the door. “Let’s return to check on your horse.”
“You can wait,” Never said. “I must buy medicine first.”
Cog shook his head – and there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. “Healer Alippa was gracious enough to sell me the last of her chila powder.” He lowered his voice. “By far the most potent remedy for serious fevers and as I understand it, among other things, internal bleeding.”
Never glared at the man, pushing past to address Alippa. “Do you have anything else that would battle a life-threatening fever? I have tried grenvera and stone bulbs but my friend can no longer walk; his rib was broken and he is not healing.”
“Chila powder is the best chance for your friend. If you cannot convince this man to part with the last of what I had, you could try Hilisa.”
“I see.” Hilisa was days to the northwest, there was no way he could reach it and return in time. “Have you any batena, by chance?”
She raised an eyebrow. “That won’t be enough for your friend, you know.”
“For me.” He would need it.
Alippa prepared a pouch and he paid before turning to point at Cog. “I know he put you up to this and I expect you to tell me how. And why.”
Cog offered a slight bow. “Of course. Follow me.”
The man of smoke exited the healer’s shop and slipped immediately between the buildings, circling around toward the inn. Never followed closely, eyeing the man’s pack. Once they got into the trees, out of sight of the village, Never would have a decision
to make. He might simply take the medicine, if he was quick enough, but that meant either killing or leaving Cog behind; Luis could not wait.
Yet if he did so, what answers would he miss?
For Snow was no doubt attempting to direct events once again. Well, no more.
The hum of voices bled through the wooden walls of the inn as Cog increased his pace, leaving it behind. Never matched the speed as the man turned a corner, leaping over a garden bed as to move between two homes.
An armoured figure stepped out from one of the buildings.
Steelhawk.
The man stiffened in shock but before he could speak, Cog raised a hand. Grey smoke rushed up from the ground, smothering the man. Cog leapt forward, catching the fellow with a grunt before lowering the soldier to the ground, preventing the clanking of armour. “Onward then,” he said.
Never pushed aside unease – Snow had done something to the man who called himself Cog, surely, what else explained such strange magic?
By the time they stood within the stand of juniper and Never checked on his mare, he was clenching his teeth once more. His unease had been replaced by simmering fury. He needed the chila powder. How dare Snow interfere once more!
Never turned to face Cog, who leant against a trunk. “Speak.”
“You should know well that your brother can find you whenever he wishes; he senses you,” Cog said. “By the way he has spoken of this sense, I assumed you could sense him.”
No surprise. “Where is he now, then?”
“Perhaps at the Imperial City by now – I cannot be sure.”
“Fine. Then answer me this. Why? Why come here ahead of me and take that which I need?” Never demanded. “If Snow thinks he can sway me by killing my friends, he is a damn fool.”
“Think of it more as a bargaining chip,” Cog replied. “Your brother suspects that you would not wish to hear from him directly at this time, so soon after your last meeting.” The man glanced at Never’s hand.
Never folded his arms. “Bargaining chip?”
Cog nodded, waiting.
“And if I simply take the medicine instead?”
“One or both of us may die, I do not know.” The man shrugged. “But if so, the secrets your brother has given for me to share will die here.”
Never shook his head. When it came down to it, he didn’t know whether he could harm Cog at all... “Then you would die for him, like the others?”
“Of course.”
Never shook his head. He couldn’t risk it, could he? Any delay might cost Luis his life and yet if Cog did have something worth learning he had to take the chance. At the least, Never would hear what the man had to say. “What are you offering then, Cog?”
“Simply come with me to the river. There I will take you to a place where you will learn more of your heritage. After which, I will give you not only the chila powder but also the means with which to return to Luis in time to save him.”
“And all this is what Snow desires?”
“Yes.”
“And he thinks I trust him?”
Cog shrugged once more then turned to walk between the trees. “That I do not know. Come, Never, if you will. The river waits – it is not far.”
Never stared after the strange man. Was it all simply another of Snow’s ploys? A way to distract Never and to separate him from his friends? At best, Snow considered Luis and Tsolde a hindrance, that much was clear.
And yet, Snow wanted cooperation, not bloodshed.
No, not a single drop of precious Amouni blood could be lost, as far as his brother was concerned. And Snow also had to be aware that Never would not cooperate if it meant losing Luis and Tsolde. Whatever Cog – and Snow – offered now would doubtless serve them in some way, but Never needed the powder. Also, he couldn’t deny that the temptation of being given another piece of his heritage was strong.
“Fine, brother. Let’s see what you offer.”
Chapter 5.
Noon had not waned by the time they reached the Ebina, an old, deep river of restless grey beneath the clouds. The banks were empty of fishermen. Upstream were what might have been darkened remnants of a campsite, and across the water a narrow trail ran alongside the rows of drooping grain.
“Don’t be afraid, even though what follows will be strange,” Cog said as he secured the pouches of chila powder within an oil skin, which he replaced in his travel pack. Then he removed a pendant from around his neck and spoke softly, facing the water.
Never led his horse closer. The words were familiar... the Amouni tongue? Though he could not discern individual words, the meaning was clear. It was a call for assistance – a deeply respectful call.
“And now we wait,” Cog said, replacing the pendant before Never could get a clear look at it. Made of bone?
“I don’t have a lot of leisure time, you know, Smokey.”
“Be sure to protect anything that you do not wish to become temporarily soaked,” Cog said.
Never raised an eyebrow. “You’re a patient fellow, aren’t you?”
Cog chuckled. “Does it bother you that I am not easily ruffled?”
“It certainly does.” Never secured his batena and then glanced around – there were few places to tether a horse. Best to simply let her go free. “But we won’t dwell on that now. Would you care to tell me what’s happening?” He had his own suspicions but did not volunteer anything – better to keep Cog, and therefore Snow, in the dark about what Never knew.
Or thought he knew.
“We are about to travel a great distance.”
“Very well,” Never said.
Cog turned back to the water. “Here.”
Something stirred beneath the dark surface, a golden colour grew... and a fish-head broke free, followed by a human neck and shoulders. A man-like figure, draped in deep yellow robes, soon stood on the surface.
Bare arms remained at his side, but the fish-head regarded Cog expectantly.
Just as Never had expected.
Yet how could Cog call such a figure forth? Surely he had no Amouni blood? No, the pendant. Or something Snow had taught the man – the Amouni words? Again Cog spoke, and still Never could not catch the meaning.
It shall be so, Guest. The fish-man said. To Never, he nodded. Welcome back, Master.
Never affected a look of shock, which Cog appeared to accept. “Simply take his hand when offered. We will enter the river and the guide will take care of the rest.”
“Which is?” Never asked.
“Visiting a place of great potential,” he said as he stepped into the river. The water reached his knees only. “Come quickly. Not all guides are fully present in the world after such a long time dormant.”
Never followed, grimacing at the chill river and reaching for the guide’s outstretched hand.
Do not release my hand. The guide’s toneless voice rang in his head.
Never obeyed, and gave a gasp when the guide drew him beneath the current.
Cold, blackness enveloped him.
Did even his bones shiver? Yet there was air aplenty in the darkness and the streaking colours he’d experienced on the River Rinsa in Hanik returned. Yellow and purple, orange slicing through as the inky world consumed them. Cog was nowhere to be seen, yet the guide remained close, a strong presence that only began to dwindle when the colours slowed and faded. The surface of the lake appeared above and soon the pale glow from a red and white tiled room was revealed. Surely it was the same room as he’d come across on the Rinsa? And if so, how far had they travelled, and at what speed? Were the rivers even directly connected? He couldn’t recall.
As before, when Never climbed from the pool – Cog beside him – he found his clothes drying quickly. The guide stood within the black pool of water, not a single drop of dew beading on its alabaster skin.
Cog thanked the guide – shajul – this time Never caught and recognised it, and the yellow robes faded to black as the fish-man disappeared.
“Where is this place?” Never asked.
“It is known as the Vestibule, located in Hanik,” he replied, approaching the podium. “We must complete a ceremony swiftly, for you to learn what Snow has permitted me to offer.”
“Lead on,” Never said, waving a hand.
At the podium, Cog removed a vial of blood from his pack and with careful, even reverent movements, allowed a single drop to strike the surface.
Silvery light appeared in the wall, allowing a door to open. Cog led him into a circular chamber and the sight of the strange, steel furniture confirmed Never’s suspicion. As with his last visit, Never eyed what he thought of as ‘transfer tables’. What was their true purpose? Still dust-covered, they surrounded the wide, centre-dais and each table sloped toward the tiled floor, where a central drain lay concealed beneath the tiles.
The tables narrowed even further at the top, before spreading in a circle as if for a head to rest.
A chill ran across his shoulders.
Cog gestured around him. “You now stand within one of the only Amouni spaces to survive the Eradication. Its functions remain intact – see the Preparation Tables, how they have not rusted?”
Never raised an eyebrow. So Snow had been to the Preparation Chamber. “What does this place prepare then? What have you brought me here to tell me? How will I be able to return to my friends? Via that... strange fish-man?” He had nearly said guide but it was still best to hide the extent of his familiarity, limited though it was.
“This chamber prepares the Amouni.”
Never couldn’t fight a glimmer of curiosity. “For what?”
“Flight,” Cog said with a smile. “Here, if you are willing to trust me, is where your wings, long-dormant, will finally be awoken.”
Chapter 6.
Never blinked. Wings? That wasn’t possible... even for the Amouni, surely?
Fool, of course it was.
Snow had wings and they came from somewhere. Why not an ancient Amouni preparation chamber? Yet that didn’t explain how. Or why? Apparently Cog was going to claim he knew ‘how’ at least. And more, claim that Snow wanted Never to find his wings.