The Zi'veyn: The Devoted Trilogy, Book One

by Kim Wedlock

  A sudden wind whipped in, tousling their hair and leafing through the water-washed pages of the heavy books that lay open upon the floor, while any loose sheets had long ago been blown away. Every soft surface - torn upholstery, tattered rugs and moth-eaten tapestries - had been stained by the rain and bleached by the sun, and smattered evidence of congregating birds lined the outer edge. But the mess went unnoticed. Instead they found themselves looking from the doorway directly into the tower beyond, its corresponding wall having equally collapsed and, by chance, fallen outwards to land in this room, either caught by the empty space or having been the very cause of the destruction.

  Rathen's flaming eyes turned slowly onto Anthis. "Tell me you don't mean what I think you mean."

  "I could," he replied carefully, "but then I'd be lying."

  "We have to cross that?" Garon asked, daring a tentative step forwards even as the ceiling creaked beneath his feet, and he peered with wide eyes out through the gap and along the bridging sheet of magic-warped metal.

  "There's no information in here," Anthis explained, stepping carefully past him and towards the edge, his footsteps their most cautious yet, "so it's most likely across there."

  "If it's even here at all!" Rathen snapped, and Aria clung onto his hand tightly and pulled back a step, highly reluctant to let him follow the others.

  "It is," he assured them, "it's just not in this tower. Trust me, it's perfectly safe, I've been across this before."

  "How many times?"

  He hesitated and looked back at Rathen's stern tone. "Once."

  The mage shook his head. "By all means," he said, grounding his feet, "you go ahead. Aria and I will wait here."

  "No." Garon met Rathen's dark eyes steadily as they snapped onto him. "You're coming with us, and that's an order. We need to stay together. It's not safe over here, and it's not safe over there, and if anything happens it could well be your magic that saves us."

  "And I might need your help," Anthis added from behind him.

  He stared at the two flatly, but though he desperately wanted to remain behind and keep Aria safe, he had known even as he'd said it that it wasn't an option. So, with more than a little reluctance, he stepped after them, squeezing Aria's hand reassuringly and casting her a smile of apology. "Looks like we have no choice."

  Her brow remained knotted in objection, but she seemed to have come to the same conclusion. She was quick to follow him.

  After a few experimental taps with his boot, Anthis took a deep breath and the first step onto the makeshift bridge. It shifted immediately, and he braced himself against its precariousness. Its concavity removed the fear of slipping off of the edges, but it also removed stability, rocking with every step no matter how small, soft or cautious. The others watched him uncertainly from the edge, but after five paces, Garon took a similar steadying breath and stepped along after him. Rathen tightened his jaw and did the same at the following interval, and Aria kept closer than his shadow, squeezing his hand just as tightly in return.

  Every footfall made by one threatened to throw the others off-balance, but rather than split their focus by cursing or over-compensating, they each concentrated on matching their pace with that of whomever was in front. Time slowed as they held their breath. It seemed to take forever to reach the other side, but the moment their feet left the rocking metal and found the comparatively safe flooring of the second tower, as equally ruined as it was, there was a shared sigh of relief. But while the adults were content for the moment to feel a more stable surface beneath their feet, Aria dropped her father's hand and stormed over to Anthis, her eyes burning with a blue-grey fire and round lips pursed furiously. "I," she declared with a venom to match, "did not like that."

  He hesitated beneath her imposing glare, his expression creasing in guilt, and it twisted further as he saw the fear her anger cloaked. "I'm sorry," he sighed regretfully, "but we're safe now that we're across. I promise." He cast the others similar looks of apology when he noticed they shared her sentiments, but chose not to offer them anything to retort to. Instead he turned around and stepped carefully through this ruined room, assuring them he knew where to go next, and left them to follow begrudgingly in single file.

  "I'm not happy with this," Rathen told Garon quietly. "He's said that countless times already, but all he's done is lead us from one mess to another based on nothing but a hunch. What if he's wrong and there's nothing here?"

  "Then we'll have wasted time. We have no other choice. This is our best lead - I know that and you know that. All we can do is trust in him." The inquisitor cast his eyes, very briefly, back towards him with a look of assurance that only served to bother the mage. "He's a professional."

  Rathen didn't respond. He turned his gaze back to the ground while his unpleasant expression that had grown only deeper that day turned all but black. He knew Garon was right. Or, at least, he hoped he was.

  The interior of this tower was little different to the first. It may once have had a different purpose from its twin, but its equal chaos made it impossible to tell, and Anthis didn't offer any such information either. He returned quickly to his silent focus as the search process began anew, and as nothing at all seemed to have changed, Rathen found that the sense of it being all too hopeless similarly returned.

  They passed once more from room to room, Aria leading Rathen carefully into others where he similarly continued his own blind and desperate search, and she sat remarkably content with tome after tome in her lap. Perhaps she was trying to help as naively as he was, or perhaps she recognised that there simply was nothing else to do - he'd insisted she left her whittling tools behind, after all. But she dedicated herself to the self-imposed task anyway, whatever it might be, as though Anthis had asked her to do so himself.

  But after the fourth hour in the second tower, they had both grown weary of such work, and as Anthis continued filtering through what remained of the elves' records next door, and Garon presumably did the same with far less finesse, Rathen merely stared out through the broken wall at the world beyond, allowing his flagging mind the room to wander while keeping Aria safely away from the gap.

  The overcast sky had thickened. By his judgement, the sun would set in two hours, but it would be too dark to continue this and get out safely by the end of one. They would have to leave before then and find an inn for the night, and given what little luck they'd had so far, they would undoubtedly be returning the next day.

  He sighed to himself in resignation. But if that's what it took...

  If that's what it took. For what? There was nothing here.

  "Ah-hah!"

  Chapter 14

  Heads rose at the abrupt cry, but neither otherwise moved, even as their hearts dared a leap in hope. It was only when a giddy chuckle followed a moment later that Rathen and Aria came to life. Forgetting their caution, they hurried out of the room and blustered into the next, where they found Anthis grinning down at the pages of dusty tomes which Garon read over his shoulder. The inquisitor's expert eyes revealed only a trace of his bewilderment.

  "What is it?" Rathen asked, and was immediately silenced by the historian's hand even while being flashed his wide grin. Aria bridled impatiently beside him as they watched him turn the page and drink up its contents, then look quickly to another book that lay open on the crowded and broken table before turning back again, curtly closing the second and pushing it aside.

  He nodded vigorously to an unspoken question as his eyes continued to absorb the words. "Beyviin Dreyal," he said quickly, flicking back a few pages and tapping at the paper, "Beyviin Dreyal and, directly, 'great magical advancement'." He grinned triumphantly once again. "I've found it."

  It took a long moment for Rathen to process the declaration, and Garon seemed to share in his surprise. Even Anthis appeared slightly taken aback, as though he'd had his own silent doubts despite his consistent assurances.

  Though he knew he wouldn't understand it, Rathen stepped forwards to look for himself an
yway, his scepticism settled and reluctant to pass after eight long hours of searching. But as his foot struck the edge of the table, he froze mid-stride, the great crash that shattered the stale air propelling his heart into his throat.

  All eyes widened as the others fell still and silent, and it took a painfully long time for Rathen to understand that the sound had not come from beside him, but above. Gazes turned towards the ceiling, the only movement they dared, breath bated until the tapering string of thuds that followed had drawn to a stop.

  They cast slow, wary glances to one another, and only after another long and mercifully silent moment passed did they share a sigh of relief. An unfortunate coincidence, nothing more; a casual shift in the balance above. Rathen fought to suppress the heat in his face that had come with the idea that he had been somehow responsible.

  Anthis smiled weakly. "We're okay."

  No one was given the chance to agree. Metal creaked mournfully, then, an excruciating scrape as something slid oh so slowly across something else. A thud. Then another. A subsequent tumble of small objects dragging with them things only larger.

  Eyes shot back to the ceiling as the clamour amplified. A single impulse passed across them like a breeze and, one by one, they began stepping back towards the door, their footfalls as light as humanly possible to avoid somehow worsening the destruction above them.

  Garon gritted his teeth as the cacophony slowly dragged to another unpromising stop. "We have to leave," he whispered, and Anthis managed only a peep of a protest before he turned dark, commanding eyes onto him. "What you've got will have to do. We leave now."

  Rathen and Aria needed no encouragement, but as Anthis mumbled and reluctantly began gathering his things to follow their tiptoe to safety, another long, loud scrape loosened and hurried his pace.

  The rumbling threat seemed to follow them, spreading as they made for the broken hallway and intensifying in their wake. Rathen cursed beneath his breath as he ushered Aria's short strides across the threshold, his thoughts immediately turning to the worst possible outcome - and, as if to punctuate them, just as he turned to see how far behind the others were, he was deafened by a heart-stopping crash and blinded by the dust that billowed out of the room they'd left only a second before.

  His grip on Aria's wrist tightened as he wrenched her around to shield her from the dust and debris, and he fought to swallow his heart back down as his wide gaze pierced through the cloud.

  A uniformed figure shortly stumbled out, nose and mouth hidden in the crook of his elbow, and Anthis was close behind him, his bag slung over his shoulder, coughing as he went. There was little opportunity to notice the inquisitor's daze; both were on their feet and moving, and as the floor began to shake, that was all that mattered. Anthis rushed ahead of them, gesturing down the hall even as he struggled to catch his breath, and Rathen snatched Garon by his sleeve to lead him along as he struggled to regain his bearings.

  Another crash shook the air behind them as the tremors intensified, but no one spared a moment to turn and watch the floor they'd crossed only seconds ago crumble beneath the weight of the ceiling, nor to observe the cracks that formed and chased them as they raced on the historian's heels.

  Like dominoes, one collapse triggered another. The ceiling continued to fall behind them, dragged down by momentum, which in turn shattered the decaying floors they and their furniture landed upon, plummeting the weight down to the next. They only just managed to stay ahead of the cascade, Aria keeping pace with the adults' longer strides as though she was carried on a zephyr of panic, and when they reached the ruined spiralling stairs, their pace flared again. They were all too aware of the fact that the ceiling they sought to escape was no longer obstructed by another, and tore their feet free with little care of injury whenever they happened to stomp through a weakness.

  They flew down the tower, case by case, floor by floor, and slowly became aware of the growing distance between themselves and the cacophony. It sounded as though it was diminishing, but they didn't dare slow. Only when it seemed to be drawing to a stop did they begin to steady their frantic pace, their hearts hammering and threatening to tear free from their chests.

  But before any of them could catch their breath, let alone spare a sigh of relief, another creak of metal invaded the immediate air, carrying on its tail a curious wave of disorientation.

  "Stop!" Anthis cried above exasperated curses, needlessly, as everyone had already instinctively grasped what remained of the handrails. They braced and steadied their spinning heads as best they could, but the rocking sensation only increased by the breath. Anthis shortly bit off his own string of profanity and told them to keep moving instead. It was only then the others realised that it was the staircase itself that was moving.

  They covered the final two cases in moments. Fighting with every step to remain upright, each of them lost their footing and managed to recover through necessity alone, not one stride ever breaking. Relief surged through them like a tidal wave when they finally thundered into a ransacked hall, an atrium identical to the first, and hope gave their pace one final burst of fire as they barrelled towards and out through the enormous, grand doors.

  They spared not a glance to the state of the tower until they were well away from it and already skirting back to the first. Anthis was the first to dare, and as shock immediately faltered his steps as he half-turned in his run, Rathen reluctantly followed his wide gaze.

  The tower was leaning at a dreadful angle, as though somehow ripped from its foundations and pushed by a giant, and it was set to strike the other and invoke further destruction if it fell any further. But while its precarious balance was alarming enough, Rathen's blood froze when he found that the first tower was now in motion instead. Countless outer walls were bending and breaking off to strike the street below, dragging whole rooms down with them - but the debris wasn't falling as close to the structure as pieces had in the past. While surrounding buildings had collapsed inwards, this one was falling wide; for the fact that none of them had yet been hit, they could only thank Vastal.

  But they were too close to where they'd left the horses to waste time rerouteing. This chaos wouldn't be missed from the city; they had to be away.

  Rathen released Aria's hand, trusting her panic to keep her alongside him, and prepared to cast any spell he needed to even as they crossed the square. But as they reached the tethers, they found that only one of the three horses remained, its grey-dappled body lying motionless on the ground, head lost beneath recent debris. There was no trace at all of the other two.

  They cursed as the disheartening sight brought them stumbling to a halt, but there was no time to dwell, despite Aria's sorrowful cry - a fact that proved itself before they could even begin to flee on foot.

  They spun towards the clamour of voices and watched with growing defeat the crowd that ran towards them from amongst the ruined buildings. Shouts of startlement, questions, then declarations of doom; despite superstition, their nosiness had been unmatched, and given the distance between the towers and the city's edge, the noise must have drawn them all immediately.

  But before they could curse at their growing misfortune, more of the building came crashing down above them.

  Garon and Rathen each growled in frustration and shouted for the approaching crowd to turn and run for their own safety. But though the inquisitor invoked his authority and Rathen boomed with the unfaded command he carried over a decade ago, nothing could douse the mob's fervour. They continued their advance, civilians and guards alike, even as Rathen heard another silver panel loosen from above.

  His eyes pulled upwards, heart leapt into his throat, and he watched it begin its slow plummet towards the crowd. And though he knew what would come of it, he also knew he had no choice.

  His fingers wove frantically into a spell and a sudden wind gusted up like a geyser. It struck the metal, sending it wide and hurtling off into the nearby ruins, well clear of any bystanders. And, as he'd expected, not one of t
hose bystanders missed it. But even as their cries of fear and wonder at the calamity shifted into anger, and voices shouted of 'magic' and 'curses', and accusations fell upon the group as heavily as the panel would have upon them, an almighty crash blanketed the district. The four knew, without even a glance, that the second tower had struck.

  Heedless, the angry citizens renewed their march, their sights locked on Rathen in particular as all those who were armed drew their swords. Garon bellowed an explanation, but his words, his uniform and the insignia he presented were all equally ignored, along with the countless falling fragments loosened by the shockwave.

  Rathen turned his back to them, whole-heartedly cursing their presence, their foolishness, their superstition and the spiteful need he felt rising within himself to protect them all anyway, and caught as much of the debris as he could in a net of magic, disregarding whatever appeared to be flying too wide. But an angered cry close behind him snatched his attention, and he turned to see a flurry of red that asked the question 'what in Vastal's name are you doing?!'

  Another fragment buckled from halfway up the tower in his moment of distraction, falling closer down its length than the others had, and it hurtled straight towards him.

  But it didn't strike, and Anthis released a sigh of relief before sparing a moment to look inquisitively towards the figure who had not only distracted the mage, but had also run ahead of the advancing city and now stood beside Garon to oppose them all, even meeting the blades of those who tried to slip past and attack him directly.