by L. L. McNeil
Most pirates’ careers were over within a handful of years.
Memories of old allies came rushing back. Others on Traego’s crew, or the first few who stood with her when she bought Khanna and became captain of her own airship.
How many people had she lost? Either to the Guard, other pirates, Goldstones with private security? Amarah slumped.
‘You sound like you used to be very close,’ Kohl said, sending a cool breeze fluttering through the musty room which picked up dust. ‘What happened for you to part ways? You’ve mentioned him before.’
She glared at him, uncomfortable with what Kohl implied. ‘No-one’s business what I do.’
‘Amarah…’
‘What?’ She whirled around.
Kohl raised an eyebrow. ‘I know it’s not my business. But…if we’re to be working with him, I’d like to know the history. I’d rather not find out at a critical moment that you attacked his sister or something like that, or there’s some terrible debt between you.’
Amarah held his gaze and then burst into laughter. ‘Dragons above, nothin’ like that! I wanted to do things my way. He wanted to do ‘em his way. Nothin’ bad. We never worked against each other. If he found out I was after something, he’d bow out. I’d do the same.’
‘Sounds like a rarity among thieves. I thought you all tried to get your hands on whatever treasure you could find.’
She shrugged. ‘I suppose so. Of all the allies I have, Traeg’s the only one I come close to trusting. He saved my life once. He gave me a chance on his ship. All anyone wanted to do was take advantage of me. Traego was the one who saved me from the Varkain. So, I stuck around. Saw what I could learn from him.’ She smiled a little.
She’d been so damned young and naïve, then.
The Varkain attack had been terrifying, of course. She’d been way in over her head, all full of hot air and no bite.
‘You know, Amarah,’ Kohl said, sitting down on an upturned crate now they’d cleared the room enough to be comfortable. He removed his cloak, laid it beside him, and stretched his wings out. ‘You always pretended you were a loner. I did the same.’
She pulled off her outer layer of furs and busied herself with folding them up.
She didn’t trust herself to reply.
Kohl continued, ‘You remind me so much of myself, you know. We can both fly, in a manner of speaking. Having that in common is nice outside of Oren. But you shoulder a lot, perhaps unnecessarily. Just like me.’ He paused and scratched the side of his head while he considered his next words. ‘Don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like that about anyone. Even Topeko.’
Amarah rolled her tongue. ‘Maybe. Linaria’s a lonely place when no-one wants you around.’
‘I know that feeling.’
‘You had a family, though? You meant something to people.’ She scratched the old scar under her eye.
‘Maybe. Two hundred years is a lot of time to spend with them. It hurt to lose all those memories when I was banished.’
Amarah blinked. ‘What? Two hundred…You’re two hundred years old?’
Kohl smiled. ‘Two hundred and four, actually. The last year has been my exile, of course.’
Her mouth hung open. She’d heard Arillians were long lived, but over two centuries? ‘How long do you birds live?’
Kohl flinched at the slur. ‘If we don’t meet an untimely end at the hands of other Linarians,’ he said. ‘Three hundred and fifty, maybe four hundred years? Some of the very oldest made it to just shy of six hundred before passing, but they’d spent the last eight or nine decades in deep meditation.’
‘That’s why there’s so few of you, isn’t it?’ She remembered thinking Oren had a small population for one of the only Arillian settlements, despite a large chunk of their numbers flying off with Aciel.
‘By your standards, I suppose.’
Amarah whistled. ‘How old’s Jato then? And Aciel?’
‘Jato is ninety-seven. Barely more than a youth. Aciel I’m not so sure—he wasn’t from Oren. I’d guess mid-way through his second century? One hundred and thirty or forty, maybe?’
She couldn’t believe it. ‘All this time I thought you were in your late forties, early fifties.’
‘Goodness me. I’d barely be out of school at that age!’ Kohl laughed, relaxing into it and letting his true mirth show.
‘Dragons above. Guess I didn’t learn all that much about you Arillians.’ She knelt down on the floor, pulling her bag with her, to light another fire.
Though it was warmer inside the barn than outside, she was still practically in the middle of nowhere, and needed heat.
‘I’d say for the first visitor ever to come to Oren, you did pretty well,’ he complimented.
She smirked, wanted to retort about how it had been a good trip until Jato ruined things, but didn’t want to upset the mood. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Kohl laugh properly and didn’t want to spoil that.
‘I didn’t do much. They listened. Nice change from being looked down on here.’
Kohl smiled. ‘Don’t forget, we’ve been looked down on all our lives. It will be the same for our children and grandchildren.’
‘So why don’t you do somethin’ about it?’
‘Aciel did try.’
‘Something better than that psycho!’ Amarah replied, shaking her head.
‘What would you suggest?’ Kohl leaned forward. ‘Considering anywhere an Arillian goes, they’re met with disdain, suspicion, and fear.’
It sounded like people’s reactions to her—especially when she docked at a town on her ship. She hadn’t been able to figure out a way around it. That’s why she’d been so willing to take what she wanted from people.
If they wouldn’t play nice, neither would she.
She supposed Aciel’s drastic approach wasn’t completely unwarranted.
If she really thought about it, she might have behaved similarly. She may not have led the conquest, but she’d probably have tagged along with it, compulsion or not.
And if all of them were hundreds of years old…that was a lot of time for a grudge to build and become something more akin to hate.
And yet…And yet the Arillians she’d met—even those on Jato’s side—had all been friendly and welcoming to her.
Even kind.
‘Perhaps if you didn’t have that stupid shield that prevented anyone from coming to Oren, you’d start to change people’s minds. If you don’t let people in, no-one’s ever gonna think differently of you.’
Kohl sighed. ‘And what about those who come to Oren with ill intentions? The Golems let them cross the threshold, we lower the barrier, and then we have no way of getting rid of them again.’
‘You can defend yourself if they attack you?’
‘True. But what news will return to the mainland? The visitors will report we aggressive, destructive Arillians are just as people always thought. You know how negative stories fester and spread.’ He looked away, bitter.
Amarah knew the truth of that more than anyone.
‘Enough of that,’ he said. ‘How will Traego know you’re here? Will he fly here on his own?’
‘He might do,’ she admitted. ‘But I can’t sit around and wait for him to check up on this place. Could be a year before he turns up.’
‘Then, what?’
‘A little Samolen trick Traego uses to keep in touch with all of us,’ she said. ‘Normally it’s so new members don’t run off with gold and jewels, but it’ll work fine for this.’
Kohl leaned forward, intrigued.
Amarah supposed the Samolen magic did have its uses, even if she couldn’t summon it as Topeko and her parents had wanted.
Her grin soured as she remembered how Moroda had picked it up so quickly. Damned Goldstone.
‘All right,’ she said.
Amarah wrapped her hand around her left wrist, her thumb and middle finger touching. She held her wrist for almost a minute, when her skin darkened as the Thief’s
Ink tattoo slowly appeared.
‘What is that?’ Kohl asked.
‘Traego’s the captain of a lot of pirates. He had a Samolen carve a map of Linaria into the wall of his cabin on his ship, Otella. Our tattoos are all on his arms, as well, so he can see where anyone is, anywhere in Linaria.’
Amarah watched as her tattoo darkened, a swirling mass of symbols that she’d never understood, but had grown fond of.
‘But it works the other way, too. If we need to get away. We activate the tattoo, the matching one on his body lights up, and he can use Otella’s map to find us.’
‘Ingenious!’
Amarah released her hand, her tattoo pulsing slightly. ‘Simple but effective. Like the Shroud that hides us.’
‘I’d never have thought sky pirates were so…so…sophisticated.’
Amarah cackled. ‘Traego is the only one. The rest of ‘em are thuggish brutes.’
She sat on the floor by the fire and warmed her hands.
‘And now…we wait for him to receive your message?’
‘He’ll have the message. Now we just wait for him to come.’
‘And if not?’
‘He’ll come,’ Amarah said, staring into the flames.
Kohl didn’t argue, and Amarah sat in silence. Traego would know where she was. She never called for help, so she hoped his curiosity would bring him to her.
Otherwise, she’d have a long journey down to Estoria.
She couldn’t wait to get a ship under her feet again, then she’d be able to go after Jato.
Amarah grabbed her scythe and ran a finger over it, her tattoo already beginning to fade. She’d need all the help she could get to take on the former General.
For all the scythe’s power, it hadn’t been enough to take her. The blade itself hadn’t been damaged in the fight, didn’t even look slightly worn.
She sighed. The flames crackled and spat, warming the barn and turning her cheeks pink.
Amarah waved the scythe, feeling its lightness. Jato must have just got lucky. Nothing could really stand against it, could they? Even if Jato had years of training.
Holding it above the fire, she smiled as the scythe threw blue light rippling across the barn walls and ceiling. ‘Nice light show,’ she muttered, glancing to Kohl, who watched with amusement.
But when Amarah looked back to her scythe, she saw Palom floating just above it.
Startled, she jumped to her feet, but Palom vanished as soon as she moved. ‘Kohl, did you see…?
‘I saw!’ The Arillian gasped, getting to his feet.
She looked at the blade, but couldn’t see anything inside it, couldn’t see anything different to a few moments ago.
‘The fire?’ Kohl suggested.
Amarah held the weapon out, allowing the flames to lick at the blade.
Palom appeared again. He was surrounded by snow, his cloak whirling around in the wind. It looked like he was in the middle of a blizzard.
Beside him, away from the snow, two dark shadows floated.
It was just the same as Arillians watching Linaria through their storms. She supposed Palom had forged all their weapons with dragon-ore, and dragons were all connected.
Had Palom made some way to communicate? To see across the world through the sibling weapons?
If so, the shadows had to be Morgen and Anahrik.
She’d figure out the details later.
‘Palom!’ Amarah called.
The Ittallan jumped as though he’d heard a ghost.
‘Palom, can you see me?’ Amarah called again.
‘I…I hear you…’ Palom said, looked all around.
‘Your sword,’ Amarah suggested.
He frowned, then unsheathed the great-sword from his back, and held it out in front of him. ‘Amarah? How…?’
Amarah cackled. ‘You tell me! You’re the one who made these weapons!’
Palom blinked and shook his head. ‘I did not realise…Where are you?’
‘Me and Kohl are in Tum Metsa.’
‘Amarah…What happened? Your face? Your eye!’
She sighed. ‘Might have got into a fight with Jato. Lost Khanna. I’ve got allies coming here.’
Palom gaped, as though trying to speak. The snow buffeted him, and he crouched into it. ‘Did Arillian magic work? Can you free Moroda?’
She glanced to Kohl and shook her head. ‘No, but I’ve got another plan. Can you get to Tum Metsa? I could use some backup.’
‘I…’ Palom said, bracing himself against the blizzard.
Amarah narrowed her eyes as she saw movement somewhere at Palom’s feet.
Something small, with scales.
‘Palom is that a dragon?’
‘Yes,’ he said, yelling over the wind.
Amarah couldn’t believe it. What in all Linaria had Palom been doing the past few weeks?
Another surge of snow, and even though she was nowhere near, shivers ran down her spine. He had to be somewhere in the north, she could see the Feor Mountains beside him, but considering how vast Val Sharis was, he could have been one league away or fifty.
‘Why do you have a dragon? Palom?’
The blizzard filled her vision, and she heard thunder in the distance. Her heart pounded.
‘Palom, Jato’s in Linaria with some Arillians. Fuck knows what she’s after but stay clear of her!’ She didn’t want Palom hurting her—Jato was hers. ‘You hear that, Palom? Keep away from any Arillians!’
But the connection died, and Palom vanished.
‘Palom?’ Amarah called and received no reply.
‘That was incredible,’ Kohl said.
Disappointed, she lowered the scythe to the floor. ‘I had no idea my scythe could do that!’
‘Do you think Palom will join you?’
‘Why not?’ Amarah shrugged.
Kohl swallowed. ‘He…and I…’
‘Oh that,’ Amarah waved her hand. ‘Surely anythin’s better than wandering around in a blizzard?’
‘I’m not so sure…’
‘We’ve probably got a bit of a wait until Traego turns up, anyway. If Palom comes too, that’ll help in our little dragon hunt!’
She grinned.
If Traego came through and Palom joined her, she’d have no trouble at all tracking down Jato and cutting off her head.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lathri’s screams echoed through the palace dungeons. The stone muffled her piercing cries if you were in the main palace, but anything from the basement level below, and your ears would ring with the noise.
Sapora relished it.
His victory over the rebel movement had been undisputed, and his Sevastos had kept the fires raging around the palace afterwards, ensuring no-one could approach without his express permission.
He’d sat at the top of the palace towers, watching the enormous dragon, enjoying how Ittallan cowered before it, fled from its fires. The beast was utterly under his command—if he wanted it to fly, it would fly, if he wanted it to retreat, it would retreat.
For the first time since arriving in Taban Yul, Sapora had the respect he desired.
He had no intention of giving that up now.
‘I will do tenfold to your rebels what the Varkain did to the Ittallan during our war,’ he said to Lathri.
Battered and bloody, the woman remained defiant.
‘I will bring back the Arks. All four of them. If your rebels even consider a new attack, the Arks will commit the same atrocities upon them as they did to your ancestors.’
He felt his physical façade slipping, his inner Varkain threatening to reveal itself.
Tacio hovered to his left, enjoying the spectacle.
‘If you tell me what I want to know, then I’ll make your death swift.’
She panted, the strain of her bonds sapping her energy.
‘Who is your contact in the Imperial Guard? That’s all I need. Just one name, and I’ll stop your pain.’
She closed her eyes, pulled aga
inst the chains trapping her against the dungeon wall. Her feet gave way under her, and she collapsed to the stone. Her arms were chained above her head, ensuring she couldn’t use her powers.
When Tacio had discovered she’d been healing the other prisoners, Sapora had taken drastic measures to keep her away—now she remained in a separate cell, her hands shackled to keep her from healing herself.
‘Well, Lathri? Don’t you miss your mother…?’ Sapora said, grinning. ‘I can take you to meet her. All I need is a name.’
The Sevastos’ victory had given him enough of a confidence boost that he didn’t care he didn’t know how to free Malashash. He could be patient.
Surely, Aciel couldn’t break free from his crystal prison so soon after being sealed.
And even if he did, somehow, he had his own Sevastos to keep him down.
The dragon would be powerful enough to keep any threat down—at least until he figured out how to break the Arks’ seal.
‘Your king has asked a question, Ittallan,’ Tacio said, stepping in to address Lathri. ‘You’d be wise to reply.’
Sapora slunk back, happy to let Tacio take the lead in Lathri’s questioning. His brother had helped him round up a handful of rebels who’d managed to avoid his Sevastos’ flames.
A couple had died of injuries sustained earlier in the battle, but most were fit enough to be arrested. Unfortunately, none of those arrested had been in the Imperial Guard—it seemed they’d all turned to ash when his Sevastos attacked.
A pity.
Tacio and his Cerastes had taken control of the Imperial Guard in Taban Yul and had been slowly infiltrating the ranks across Val Sharis.
Corhaven was across the Sea of Nami. Away from Sapora’s eyes and influence, it would be much easier to mount an attack on his right to rule.
But who had orchestrated it all? Who had brought those warships together, stocked them, manned them?
Tacio had mentioned Isa again, but their sister had been in the palace when the attack came. He’d been talking to her.
If she had arranged for the Imperial Guard to attack, then staying in the middle of the target would have been suicide.
No. It couldn’t be Isa.