Rise of the Storm

by Carrie Summers

  How could I change such deep-set beliefs? It seemed impossible, which meant I either needed to give up on the Atal or lie to hold their loyalty. I’d already taken actions I would have found abhorrent just a few weeks ago. How far must I stoop?

  Atop the table, my fingers curled into fists. I took a deep breath to steady my thoughts, then turned away from the ministers.

  “Thank you for the report, Prime. I believe the situation in the Heights will keep for now. The greater concern is our ability to contain the Prov unrest.”

  “If I may, your eminence,” Vaness said.

  “Go ahead.”

  “While held captive, I tried to gather information regarding the agitators. I cannot be sure, but I believe there is an organized group of leaders providing fuel to the anger. Without them, the frustration would die out. People would focus on rebuilding their homes.”

  I sat up straighter. “Any notion on how we might find them? If so, we should begin today.”

  Vaness’s gaze dropped to the table. “I thought I’d made contact with one of their number before. Instead, I sent a would-be assassin into the palace.”

  “That wasn’t your fault.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t want to make the same mistake again.”

  “Vaness, setbacks are bound to—”

  Like a sudden thunderclap, Vaness slapped the table. “Don’t you see Kost—your eminence? I failed. And I got captured in the process. If not for me, the fight last night wouldn’t have happened. I’ve made things worse, not better.”

  I pressed my lips together. I’d spent so much time blaming myself for the deaths in the Splits that I hadn’t considered how she might be feeling.

  “I gave you the most difficult job in the Empire. You’ve done better than anyone could have expected.”

  My friend’s eyes burned with guilt as she stared at me. “That’s a lie, your eminence. Even if you don’t realize it, I know it for a fact. You need someone else to serve as your liaison. Let me—I don’t know. Make me a bodyguard. Anything else. But I can’t continue in this position.”

  As her words sank in, my hopes dwindled. Who among these Atal could I trust to carry my message to the Provs? No one but Vaness. Maybe she was right, and the duties were beyond her skills, but by giving up, she left me with no one. Without loyal people working among the Prov, how could I hope to find the agitators?

  A few weeks ago, I’d had two friends among the Prov. Now, the Prime Protector suspected Savra in my attempted assassination. I supposed I could try to get a message to Fishel, but most likely he’d refuse me now that he knew who I really was. Anyway, I’d probably just get him killed if I asked him to work for me.

  I ran my gaze over the room, hoping for a suggestion. No one spoke.

  Finally, I took a deep breath. There were Provs I could use to find the agitators. I’d just been avoiding them.

  I nodded to one of the pages at the edge of the room. “Go find the Snitchlord. Tell him I will meet with him as soon as he’s available.”

  ***

  “You can start by being frank with me,” I said as I stepped into the chambers I’d occupied for the last few years of my time as an imperial Scion.

  The false wine merchant whirled in surprise. He’d been standing at the window, hands wrapped around the iron bars. It was the same spot where I’d spent so much time, watching the bustle in the courtyard, the billowing clouds over the high peaks of the Icethorns. A tide of nostalgia surged, and I forced it away. The guardians had claimed the bars were to protect the Scions from would-be assassins when in truth, they’d been set into the windows to assure we wouldn’t try to escape our duties. And in the end, they’d done nothing to keep my fellow Scions from being murdered in their beds.

  I’d meant to have the bars torn from the window frames, but other issues had taken priority. In the meantime, the Prime Protector had decided a Scion’s chamber would make the best prison for the strange foreigner.

  “In what regard?” the man asked.

  “In the Atal Empire, it’s considered proper to address me as ‘your eminence.’”

  “Apologies. In what regard, your eminence?”

  I twisted a foot back and forth in the deep carpet as I considered the foreigner. I’d expect him to stammer or look aside when I chastised him over his impoliteness, but he’d done neither.

  My honor guard had followed me into the room. Laying a hand on my scimitar’s scabbard to show I was prepared to defend myself, I turned to them. “Leave us, please.”

  “The Prime has instructed us to accompany you everywhere outside your chambers, your eminence,” one of the soldiers said.

  “And I’m instructing you otherwise.”

  The soldier’s flat expression didn’t change as he thumped a fist to his chest and turned. The others followed him into the hallway, and the door shut behind them with a click.

  “I hope I haven’t misjudged your intents,” I said as I strolled to one of the cushioned armchairs and sat. “But if you do mean to kill me, I assure you I’m well trained in combat. With the difficulties I’ve faced lately, I have little patience. I won’t be gentle if it comes to blows.”

  A smile twitched in the corner of the man’s mouth. “Fear not, your eminence. I’m unable to harm someone even when it's in my best interests. Some consider it my greatest flaw.”

  “Then I’ll say it again: I’d like you to be frank with me. When you said you hadn’t foreseen me, what did you mean?” More than anything, I wanted to ask about Savra. But what if this man meant to harm her? What if he wished to use her against me? His mention of her name had likely been calculated.

  “If I were frank with you, it would likely confirm your earlier suspicion that I was mad. I have no wish to be locked away.”

  I crossed my legs at the ankles. “You appear to have made the same error as everyone else in this Empire regarding my disposition. If you were infirm, I wouldn’t lock you away. I would ask my mages to treat you.”

  Again, the man smiled, a crooked expression. “I didn’t mean to cast judgment on you with my statement. Only that I’ve learned much over the decades but haven’t yet acquired the trick of expressing myself clearly.”

  “Decades. A strange measure of time for a man who doesn’t appear much older than me.”

  The man stuffed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I’m told your name is Kostan.”

  “It is. Though, as I mentioned, it’s customary to address me as your eminence or Emperor Kostan. And your name?”

  “Parveld. Though it’s not the first name I’ve had.”

  “Explain to me how you’ve come to learn things over decades. And please sit,” I added, gesturing to one of the armchairs.

  Parveld shuffled across the carpet and inspected a chair almost as if he feared it might swallow him whole. After a moment, he lowered himself to the edge of the seat. He didn’t meet my eyes when he spoke. “It was nothing, really.”

  “I don’t think so. Earlier, you spoke of even longer spans of time. Centuries.”

  He clasped his fingers together and rubbed one thumb over the knuckles of the other. “You’re right, I did.”

  “Explain. I dislike this evasiveness.”

  The man’s gaze flicked to me and darted away just as quickly. “It’s—Tides but it’s difficult to meet you like this. In the day since I glimpsed you, you’ve stolen the final shreds of certainty I’d held for two hundred years. I don’t quite know how to feel or behave.”

  Propping my elbows on the arms of the chair, I took a deep breath. “So you’re part of a long-lived race. I have heard tales of such peoples hailing from distant lands, but I didn’t expect you to look so human.”

  He blinked as if dispelling a thought then forced his eyes to meet mine. “I have lived a long, long time. But it’s due to a particular ability of mine, not due to my ancestry.”

  “And what is this ability?”

  He glanced at m
y scimitar before continuing. “My magic is similar to spiritism, which I understand is outlawed in the Empire.”

  I shrugged. What in the roiling storm was spiritism? Apparently, yet another thing the guardians had withheld from my education. When had our teachers intend to explain such basic knowledge? After Ascension? “My predecessor held beliefs somewhat different from my own. I haven’t yet made a determination regarding spiritism.”

  “Well then perhaps you’ll consider letting me live.”

  “If you begin explaining yourself, perhaps I will.”

  He sighed. “All right. If you’re so determined. What would you say if I claimed I’d seen the future?”

  I was grateful we were meeting here rather than within my chambers where my eyes might be drawn to the Bracer of Sight’s cushion. “I’m not sure. What do you claim to have seen there?”

  Abruptly, Parveld’s face held an ocean of sadness. “Cataclysm. A ruined land, swallowed by waves and riven by gashes too deep to fathom. Death and pain and horrors I can’t bring myself to describe.”

  I flinched at the man’s words even while a shiver crawled over my spine. “Tell me about the waves.”

  “A wall of water. There are bodies. Shadows in the green. Whole towns sliding into the sea.”

  My tongue felt heavy and my palms slick. It was as if by simply speaking, the man summoned the bone-deep dread that haunted my nightmares.

  “What if I told you I’d seen the same thing?” I said quietly. “A set of visions I wish I could escape.”

  Parveld sat bolt upright. “The waves?”

  I nodded. “The land breaking apart. A war against the Provs. Steelhold collapsing atop the city.”

  His mouth worked as he seemed to form then discard words. “And Savra? Did you see her?”

  The sound of her name struck a blow to my chest, a fierce longing to be someone else. Somewhere else. With her.

  I shook my head. “She wasn’t in the visions.”

  “But you know her. I saw her in your mind before…” He trailed off, swallowing as he gestured toward my collar.

  My hand fell over the black-iron trinket that shielded me from the metalogists. “We met in Jaliss before I Ascended.” I hesitated. He’d given me an opening to ask about her, and I didn’t think he intended her harm. And anyway, the words left my mouth before I had a chance to stop them. “During my Ascension ceremony, there was an attempt on my life. I believe she saved me. Do you know where she went? I’d—my Prime Protector is searching for answers about the plots against the throne. I think Savra could help me deliver those answers.”

  Parveld pressed his lips together, and in his eyes, I glimpsed the centuries he claimed to have lived. “It makes sense now,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “On the night of your Ascension, Stormshard had a plot to enter Steelhold. They’d recruited Savra by promising information regarding her father’s whereabouts. It was difficult for me to understand the events precisely, but I suspect she found a way to allow the assassins past the walls.”

  “Three of the protectors assigned to guard the Shadow Gate claimed she somehow took control of them.”

  Parveld nodded. “That would explain it. She must be strong in compulsion. In any case, if, as you say, she saved your life, it would have meant she betrayed Stormshard.”

  His voice broke over the last words like a wagon losing a wheel to the rocks. I waited while the strange man sank back into his chair and ran his hands through his hair.

  “And then?” I asked, hating the words for the answer I feared they’d provoke.

  “Part of my ability allows me to sense the spirits of the living. I think of them as sparks. I was able to connect with Savra’s spark and to sense much of what she was feeling. A few of her actions, even. The evening is a bit confused in my mind, but there’s one moment I simply can’t forget. A few hours after sunset, her spark simply vanished.”

  The words landed like fists. Vanished. I couldn’t bring myself to ask the question. Instead, I gripped the arms of the chair, hoping he would just stop speaking. Savra had saved me, betrayed her mission with Stormshard, and they’d killed her for it. Of all the wrongs I’d committed since Ascending, causing her death was the single worst. I wished I’d never met her, the innocent Cosmali girl come to Jaliss to learn to scribe.

  After a long moment of silence, I balled my hands into fists. “What do you know about Stormshard?” I asked.

  “Vengeance won’t bring her back,” he said quietly.

  “No,” I said. “But my visions command me to keep the Empire strong. It’s the only hope for salvation. The Provs won’t accept my kindness; seems it’s time for them to accept my wrath—those who oppose me directly, anyway. And if I can avenge an innocent young woman at the same time, even better.”

  He sighed. “A few weeks ago, I would have argued with you. Only goodness can conquer the disasters that are coming, I would have said. But I spent centuries following my visions, and with Savra gone, nothing I’ve believed in will come to pass. So at this point, I suppose it’s time to let someone else bear the burden of the future. I know little of Stormshard or their whereabouts, but whatever resources I have are at your disposal.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Savra

  Just outside an ancient fortress, Icethorn Mountains

  FROST CRACKLED UNDERFOOT as Stormshard set out from the ancient keep. Walking over alpine tundra laced in white, the rebels slowly fell into ranks, walking two and three abreast on the trail leading from the valley. At the rear of the procession, mules laden with spare weaponry, armor, and rations plodded with heads down. Buckles jangled and leather creaked along the column while in the lead, the scouts guided the handful of horses along serpentine courses.

  Every few hundred paces, low stones caught the sunlight. Small patches of lichen spattered the white granite faces, crawling over carved designs that had been nearly worn away. My gaze kept returning to the patterns, wondering again who had cut them into the stone surfaces and what the designs had meant to the carvers.

  When we passed the blackened area where the bodies of the twisted creatures had been burned, I steeled myself and summoned my aura-sight. The roiling mass of their spirits had finally dissipated, perhaps carried away with the ashes of their bodies. Only the faintest traces remained, so insubstantial that they might have been my imagination.

  Where had they gone? Through the veil, or were they simply scattered and unable to find peace? I swallowed. Wherever they came from, I hoped it wouldn’t happen again. But the smell—the way they resembled the Maelstrom-spawn… Somehow, I doubted we’d eradicated their kind.

  They’re coming because the Breaking is worsening, aren’t they? I asked Lilik. You told me that metalogy is tainted because it uses magical power which became twisted as it leaked through the Maelstrom’s seal. The relics come back from the Hunger as well, usually with strange properties. What’s to say that people and animals can’t return?

  It seemed to take a moment before her awareness turned to me. The pause made me wonder what she and Raav did when I wasn’t speaking with them. Did they watch the world through our bond? Maybe they entered a sort of sleep. Two centuries confined to a bracelet was a long time.

  I don’t know, Savra. Parveld never spoke of anything returning except for the magic that infuses the Maelstrom-metals and the occasional relic.

  But you must have an opinion.

  I felt a trickle of amusement flow from the bracelet. Some people would say that Lilik had too many opinions when she was alive, Raav interjected.

  Oh, clap shut, Lilik said fondly. I had no more ideas than anyone. It’s just that I had less restraint about expressing them. Anyway, since you ask, I’d say they’re absolutely related. It seems obvious. The rifts opened by the Hunger take everything from our world. The living, the dead, the soil and sea and trees. Magic and sunlight. It makes sense that if magic and objects can be cast ba
ck, so can creatures. We suspect the seal is deteriorating, which is why the Breaking is accelerating. A weaker seal allows more things to pass.

  If all this seems obvious, why didn’t you just say so at first?

  Because I didn’t want Raav to accuse me of having too many opinions, she said. I could almost hear the smile in her words.

  Hey! her husband protested.

  I extended them a tendril of amusement and returned my attention to the trail ahead. Marching before me, the bulk of the Stormshard force looked much less like the ragtag group they’d seemed when they’d arrived at the fortress. Sharders scanned the surroundings with alertness and walked with confident strides. I spotted Joran’s hulking form among the ranks. I’d made sure to keep my distance, and so far, I’d had no further problems from the man.

  At the front of the column, the scouts had already veered from the trail, cutting up the slope where the angle was gentlest. The lead horse rode directly for the low pass the conclave had chosen as our exit, a compromise between the ice-crusted notches between the high peaks at our backs and the ambush-vulnerable gorge where the stream left the vale.

  The sun warmed the side of my face as I hitched my pack higher and matched my strides to the Sharders surrounding me. Approaching from the rear of the column, Falla drew even with me, a rock clutched in her hand as she worked her arm through exercises to restore strength and flexibility. Confidence molded to her body like a second set of clothing.

  She caught me looking at her and smiled. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about Kostan.”

  My back stiffened. “And?”

  “I want you to know that every man and woman here would rather settle this without bloodshed. If we learn that he’s treated the Provs with respect and kindness, we’ll try to negotiate first. No matter how stubborn we seem, none among us want war if we can gain Prov freedom in other ways.”