by Lucy Hounsom
Inside was a foyer, walls panelled in oak until they met the downward curve of the great dome. The translucent glass diffused what light there was left in the sky and bathed the place in an orange dusk. Lamps spaced evenly around the walls burned with a light that was harsh in comparison. The guard’s mail-shod feet rang loudly on the marbled floor.
The double doors to the main chamber were closed and locked. ‘Get out of my way,’ Brégenne said, thrusting the guard aside. Then she lifted a hand, summoned a Lunar spear and hurled it at the barred doors.
The explosion was deafening. Someone screamed. As she and Gareth strode through, crushing splinters beneath their heels, the novice said, ‘And you accuse me of overdoing it.’
Heart racing with the thrill of the Lunar running through her veins, Brégenne bared her teeth at him and then turned her attention to the chamber.
This was the seat of power in Mariar. She heard Gareth’s intake of breath and, despite her anger, she couldn’t hide her own awe. The grand hall of Mariar’s ruling Trade Assembly made Naris’s atrium look almost primitive. The walls were oak-panelled here too and hung with white and purple curtains. The stained-glass dome depicted various landscapes complete with an artist’s impression of an airship with a rather fanciful figurehead. Two huge panes were given over to the heraldry of the Assembly: golden scales balanced on one end with weights, on the other with a handful of gems and little coins, each picked out in surpassing detail.
But the sight that dominated the chamber was a great round table, vaster than any Brégenne had seen, set with twenty high-backed chairs, each carved with a different family crest. Tonight all the chairs were occupied and paper littered the leathered tabletop, along with goblets, pens, jugs of wine and water. The session had evidently been a long one.
As she marched uninvited to the table, Brégenne couldn’t help thinking of Kyndra, reminded of the time the young woman had interrupted the Council’s hearing. Unlike the Council, however, the merchants were cowering in their chairs and she realized she held another Lunar spear ready to hurl. Planting it like a staff at her side, she said, ‘Before you ask my name and we get to the tedious arguments over whether I am what I say I am, I have something very important to tell you.’
‘Guards!’ one merchant managed feebly and, when no help was forthcoming, he turned fearful eyes on Brégenne. ‘What have you done to them?’
‘Nothing lasting.’ She let the spear vanish. ‘I mean nobody harm.’
The merchants’ eyes travelled from her to the ruined doors and back again. Clearly they disagreed.
When Brégenne simply continued to stand there, unthreatening, a woman plucked up enough courage to ask, ‘Who are you?’ After a pause she added, ‘What are you?’
‘I am a Wielder,’ Brégenne said, ‘and so is Gareth.’ She nodded to him. ‘We come from Naris, far to the west in the mountains beyond Murta. We’ve been there since the end of the Acrean wars.’
There was utter silence.
‘Children’s tales,’ one of the men said finally and against all evidence to the contrary.
Brégenne clenched her fists. ‘You need more proof?’ In the next second, another Lunar spear quivered in the centre of the great table. Curls of smoke rose from the blackened wood. The men and women of the Assembly leapt out of their chairs, stumbling over each other in their haste to get away from the glowing spear. Brégenne let it blaze there a moment longer and then it faded. The scorch mark it left behind did not, and those eyes that weren’t fixed on her were drawn inexorably to it.
‘It’s time you started believing in children’s tales,’ she said.
Their answering expressions of horror reminded Brégenne that she hadn’t come here to frighten them. She’d come to earn their trust. The smoking stain on the table told her plainly that she wasn’t going the right way about it. Gareth made a sound in his throat; she thought he was trying not to laugh.
‘How –’ croaked the woman who’d spoken before, ‘how do we not know of you?’ She was dressed very finely in a shirt with puffed sleeves, ribbons looped across the bodice. It made Brégenne feel distinctly aware of her own workman-like garb.
‘We suffered dreadful losses in the Deliverance,’ she answered, letting her eyes range over everyone present. ‘For better or worse, our ancestors chose to rebuild our numbers in secret.’
‘And what makes you break your silence now?’
‘War is coming,’ Brégenne said and the hush in the room deepened, ‘or at least the possibility of war. Acre has returned.’
‘Acre?’ a paunchy man repeated. ‘It’s a myth.’
‘You might have noticed that the Breaking has ended,’ Brégenne said testily. ‘There have been no new reports of it in the last month.’
‘A fact for which we’re thankful,’ the man replied. ‘My business has suffered enough losses.’
She barely stopped herself from saying that it wasn’t only his business which had suffered losses. ‘Acre is the reason why the Breaking no longer plagues us. The lost world was never lost, merely hidden.’
‘My sources would have informed me if a whole world had “returned”,’ another merchant said. The dark velvet of his clothes only emphasized his sallow skin, which looked as if it rarely saw sunlight. ‘And returned from where? What devilry is this?’
‘It’s not devilry, Talmanier,’ said an irascible voice, and everyone, including Brégenne and Gareth, looked around. One of the purple curtains moved and a figure stepped out from behind it. He was dressed in scruffy trousers at odds with the fine white shirt and long, rather piratical, waistcoat he wore over them. The waistcoat glinted, sewn as it was with myriad bronze buttons. Each bore a different crest like those on the back of the chairs. The man’s leather boots were scuffed and creased from wear.
Talmanier stiffened at the sight of him. ‘Argat! What are you doing here? How dare you? This is a private meeting.’
‘I’m afraid Gunther’s coin is a little better than yours,’ Argat replied coolly and Talmanier switched his hostile gaze to the paunchy man. When Gunther began to splutter, Argat gave him a small smile. ‘And my current employer’s is a little better than his,’ he added.
‘Gunther, you scheming rat,’ Talmanier spat, at the same moment another woman began shrilly accusing him of selling Assembly secrets. Brégenne kept her eyes on Argat and the captain returned her gaze, obviously pleased at the mayhem he’d caused.
‘Enough!’ said the woman who’d first spoken, her voice slicing through the babble. She addressed Argat. ‘What do you know of this?’
Argat’s look was unfriendly as he studied Brégenne. ‘Your eyes,’ he said. ‘You’ve changed, woman. Where’s your Islesman?’
‘Busy,’ Brégenne snapped, ‘in Acre.’
‘You’ve still a sharp tongue in your head. And your young friend … where is she?’ Argat’s dark eyes narrowed. ‘Is she much changed too?’
‘More than you could imagine.’
There was a hunger in Argat’s face now. ‘She has something of mine. I have not forgotten.’
‘I doubt you’ll get it back,’ Brégenne said. ‘The earth was used to break the power keeping Acre and Mariar apart.’
‘Argat!’ the woman repeated and the airship captain finally looked away from Brégenne. ‘I take it you know this woman?’
‘Aye, Astra Marahan. I carried her and two others as passengers aboard my airship.’
‘And does she speak the truth concerning these … Wielders?’
Memory thinned Argat’s lips. ‘I believe she does,’ he said. ‘Her companion used some power against me and my crew.’
‘It was necessary at the time,’ Brégenne said, ‘and I’m sorry for it. But I’m here to talk about Acre … and our future.’ She swept her gaze over everyone in the chamber. ‘If the powers in Acre seek war, the Wielders can’t defend Mariar alone. We need to stand together.’
‘We have more immediate issues,’ Talmanier said, gesturing in the vicinity of t
he city. ‘We’re effectively trapped in here until that mob can be dispersed.’ His eyes strayed to the scorch mark her Lunar spear had left on the table. ‘If you are prepared to … resolve the situation, perhaps we can discuss this further.’
Brégenne felt a flash of anger. ‘This isn’t like one of your contracts. The whole of Mariar is in danger from a threat we know nothing about. Either we mobilize, or we risk invasion.’
‘There – you’ve said it yourself. If we know nothing about this so-called threat, who’s to say it’s a threat at all?’ The merchant folded beribboned arms. ‘You’re asking us to pour time and money into a hypothetical endeavour.’
‘Five hundred years ago, the Sartyan Empire was unstoppable.’ Brégenne chose her words with care, deciding not to mention Kierik or the term ‘Starborn’. She didn’t think the Assembly could take another revelation. ‘We’ve sent a group into Acre to discover whether the empire still rules and what it intends. Until we know—’
‘And who gave you authority to do so?’ Talmanier interrupted, anger visible in the set of his velvet shoulders. ‘The Trade Assembly is the ruling power in Mariar, not some group of … of magicians holed up in Murta. Once your story is corroborated, it is up to us to decide how and if to establish relations with a neighbouring kingdom.’
‘This is not a kingdom,’ Brégenne retorted. ‘It’s an empire with a bloody history, which controlled lands far larger than our own. While we can hope to “establish relations”, as you optimistically put it, the fact remains that we’ve nothing in place to stop any power in Acre walking in and just taking what it wants.’
Talmanier made to reply, but Astra held up her hand to stop him. ‘You clearly believe what you say,’ she said to Brégenne, ‘and if it’s true, you’ve done right in bringing it to our attention. But Talmanier is correct. We have an immediate problem on our doorstep that must be taken care of. If you can come up with a solution, we will send scouts to verify your claims.’
‘My claims need no verifying,’ Brégenne said heatedly. ‘If I choose to help you, you will agree to lead the way in preparing Mariar’s defence. And that means diverting sufficient funds.’ She paused. ‘Need I remind you that you’d be protecting your interests? War is, after all, very bad for business.’
Throughout all of this, Argat had stood silently, his gaze rarely leaving Brégenne. Now he said, ‘If the Assembly need proof of this woman’s claims, I will take my airship and any Trader who feels it necessary to come with me and we will see Acre for ourselves.’
‘That is … commendable, Argat,’ Astra said. ‘I myself will accompany you.’
‘But,’ Argat raised a finger, ‘I have a condition.’
‘Then speak it.’
‘What you do with the other airships is your business, but I want the Eastern Set unhooked from the great chain. From now on, she’ll be under my direct command and will fly where I order.’ The captain’s eyes glittered. ‘I intend to make history.’
16
The Edge of the Beaches, Acre
Kyndra
Foolish, the voice whispered. Could have lost myself, destroyed my allies, destroyed the world.
Whose voice was that? Whose thoughts? Who am I?
If I fear to accept what I am, I hand them power. And they are strong. They will use me, if I let them.
Kierik’s words were light as a cat’s whisker tickling her mind and that image brought her rushing back to herself. I am Kyndra, she thought with a snarl.
I risk the world, he said as he faded, and that cannot happen again.
The sun beat down on her eyelids, turning the darkness orange. She raised a hand to shield her face.
‘She’s awake.’
Shadows clustered, casting a cooling shade over her. Kyndra opened her eyes to find Nediah and Irilin staring down, each wearing a version of wary relief. Nediah’s was more fervent. He helped her to sit while Irilin backed up to give her room.
They were camped in the striated lee of a rock which protected them from the wind that must have blown up during the night. She could hear it sweeping across the bare expanse that surrounded them, whipping up the crests of dunes that rolled to the south.
Kyndra’s mouth felt gritty and there was a tang in her throat that tasted like blood. ‘Water?’ she asked and her voice croaked as if she’d never used it before.
Nediah handed over a shrunken skin with a grimace. ‘It’s all we’ve got.’
The liquid went some way to washing the taste from her mouth. ‘Where are we?’
‘The fringes of the Ak-Taj Desert,’ Medavle said grimly. ‘They call this part of it the Beaches.’ Kyndra looked at him and in his face she saw everything the others weren’t prepared to say to her. That was fine; she wasn’t prepared to reply. The memory of what she had done was razor sharp, so sharp she actually felt it as pain and she raised her hand to her cheek.
‘Kyndra—’
‘I want to see,’ she said, cutting Nediah off. No one spoke while Irilin rummaged through a pack, finally coming up with a circle of polished glass. The mirror was tiny, clumsily set in wood, but it showed Kyndra what she feared. Sigel had always been clearer than the others, but still pale enough to seem a scar or a passing shadow on her cheek. Now the points that made up the constellation shone as if there really were stars buried in her flesh. The lines that linked them glowed softly, silver white. She felt strangely empty as she stared, wondering who was staring back.
She handed the mirror to Irilin. ‘Are you all … all right?’ she asked.
‘No thanks to you,’ Kait said. Despite her anger, she looked shaken. ‘You could have killed us. It was only down to Irilin and Medavle that we weren’t burned to a cinder.’
‘What happened after I blacked out?’
‘The fire disappeared,’ Nediah said. His voice was very quiet. ‘The landscape was … unrecognizable. We couldn’t see anyone left alive.’
A wave of nausea swept through Kyndra. Her throat felt drier than ever. What have I done? But she knew very well what she, what Sigel, had done. Killing the humans – Sartyans, she thought quickly – hadn’t been enough. She’d wanted to burn everything … she’d wanted to burn the world.
I came to Acre to seek peace.
‘Do you think General Hagdon’s still alive?’ Irilin asked. ‘Perhaps the soldiers got him away before –’ She looked at Kyndra. ‘I can’t believe Tava betrayed the Defiant.’
‘If Hagdon’s dead, good riddance,’ Kait said. ‘He was going to hand us over to the emperor.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ Irilin said slowly. ‘Didn’t you see him hesitate? I think if any Sartyan was prepared to listen to us, he was.’
‘And now I’ve killed him,’ Kyndra said. ‘I’ve killed them all.’
‘Hardly,’ Kait replied. ‘Hagdon’s army is thousands strong. When it comes to killing Sartyans, you barely made a dent.’
‘We had no idea what we were walking into when we arrived in Acre,’ Nediah said, shooting Kait a hard glance. ‘If anything, we thought we’d only be dealing with the empire. Instead, we find a host of warring factions bent on annihilating each other.’
‘If we cannot achieve a truce with Sartya,’ Medavle said suddenly, ‘why not pursue one with Khronosta?’
Kyndra studied the Yadin. ‘It sounds like the Khronostians won’t be found unless they choose to be,’ she said. ‘And we still don’t know enough about them. Ségin said they’re on their own side.’
‘A wise side to take,’ Medavle countered. ‘They choose to avoid direct confrontation.’
‘Some might call that cowardice—’ Kait began.
‘And others, tactics. Perhaps they wait for their moment.’
‘If you didn’t think siding with the Defiant was a good idea, why Khronosta?’ Kyndra asked him.
Medavle had a certain habit of clenching and unclenching his gloved hands. She’d noticed it as a sign of his mind at work and it made her nervous. ‘They have the potential to be a valuable ally,
’ the Yadin answered, ‘now Sartya’s out of the picture.’
Was Sartya out of the picture? Had the chance of peace with the empire died with the soldiers she’d killed? And what of General Hagdon? Irilin seemed to believe he’d been willing to listen and she had to consider the best course for Mariar. ‘What now?’ Kyndra asked despondently, addressing the question to Nediah. Surely he had to acknowledge the mess she’d made of things – how many of her decisions as leader had led to disaster. Shika’s death lay at her feet, along with half a thousand soldiers. She’d broken the Defiant, forcing them to flee their stronghold. And she had nothing to show for any of it.
‘We could follow Ségin’s lead,’ Nediah said. ‘Go to Cymenza, look for this sympathetic friend of his.’
Kait gave him an approving nod. ‘Sounds like a plan.’
‘How far is it?’ Kyndra asked.
‘There’s one of Ségin’s maps in your saddlebag,’ Medavle reminded her. ‘But I estimate about two weeks’ ride.’
Kyndra’s legs felt a little weak as she moved to retrieve the map. She tried not to remember the terrible heat of Sigel as it consumed her body, or how she’d somehow remade it. That knowledge wasn’t hers and she could no more remember how to do it than she could comprehend what had actually happened when she’d become the star.
She spread the map on the ground and they all peered at it. ‘The terrain looks decent,’ Nediah said. ‘Fairly flat. If we can find the river marked here, at least we’ll have water.’
‘Hush,’ Kait said suddenly. She wore a hood to protect her eyes from the bright sun and was squinting off to the west. ‘I saw something.’
Kyndra turned to follow her pointing finger. Movement. It could be a mirage conjured out of the heated land, but she didn’t think so. She took a few steps towards it, eyes narrowed against the haze.
‘Kyndra,’ Nediah cautioned. He and Kait both summoned Solar energy, so that their hands were lost in light. They advanced slowly towards the shapes outlined against a skyscape of dunes. Not people, Kyndra saw, the breath catching in her throat, but beasts, six of them on hulking paws, their hide a camouflage of desert yellow. Three had their heads close to the ground, teeth latched onto something that had left a rough trail in the sand. They’d come from the south, it seemed, from the heart of the arid country, dragging their burden.