by Lucy Hounsom
And then there was the ambertrix. The empire hadn’t been able to hide its decline – it was too much a part of Sartyan infrastructure. No, he couldn’t deny it. Sartya did not need another enemy, especially not one as potentially powerful as Rairam.
The Starborn saw his hesitation and some of the tension left her face. ‘You do think it’s possible, then?’
‘Possible, not probable,’ Char said. ‘Conquest is in the empire’s blood. But Sartya is weaker now than it’s ever been. Territories it’s held for hundreds of years are slipping back into old ways. Slavery in the Beaches is a case in point. And I’ve heard that the Lotys Jungle’s been reclaimed by the natives.’ He paused. ‘That was a blow. Sartya’s always monopolized the lotys trade.’
‘Lotys trade?’
‘Drugs,’ he said bluntly. ‘What do you have to offer the emperor to seal this truce?’
‘Right now?’ she said. ‘Little except the goodwill of a Starborn.’
Char smiled wryly. ‘I’d say that counts for a lot actually.’
‘Does it?’ She glanced over her shoulder at her companions. ‘I’m no leader,’ she confessed, turning back to him. I’m an innkeeper’s daughter first and a Starborn second. My great plan was to come to Acre and scout out the lie of the land.’ Her tone turned bitter. ‘Well, I’ve done that, but instead of peace, all I’ve achieved is more killing.’ She paused. ‘I … I lost a friend in the red valley. It was my fault he died. Then the people in the first village we reached handed us straight to the Sartyans. The Defiant rescued us, but wanted to make us part of their rebellion. One of them shot General Hagdon before I really got a chance to speak to him properly. I don’t know if he survived. Now Khronosta is going to hunt us down because of you.’ She shook her head. ‘It couldn’t be worse.’
Char realized his mouth was slightly open. ‘General Hagdon?’ he repeated. ‘As in the Hagdon of Sartyan Fist fame?’
She nodded miserably.
‘Gods,’ he muttered. ‘And he might be dead. How did you get away?’
Her face closed up at the question. ‘I … I’d rather not talk about it.’ He noticed she looked down at her palms as she spoke, as if to trace the patterns emblazoned there.
‘Sorry about your friend,’ Char said a moment later.
She just nodded.
‘So you’re going to the Heartland?’ he asked. And thinking to take me along.
‘That was the plan. But I’m not sure it’s a good one any more.’
It was his and Ma’s destination, the place where, ironically, she thought they’d be safest. Now that he knew it was the Khronostians she feared, he realized why she’d chosen it: the power base of Sartya where Khronosta’s reach was weakest. Was that where she’d go? Even now they were separated? Char didn’t have any other leads.
He looked at the Starborn. Her name, he recalled, was Kyndra. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘If you can keep the Khronostians off me, I think I’ll stick with you.’ Whatever mad road he followed now, it wasn’t the slaver’s and for that Char was thankful.
23
The Eastern Set, Acre
Brégenne
Brégenne was out of luck.
In a temper, she threw down her cards and tossed a handful of coins across the deck with enough force to make Yara yelp. The first mate scrambled around, picking up the rolling coins and stuffing them into a pouch at her belt. When she was done, she returned to smirk at Brégenne. ‘No one likes a sore loser.’
‘I could burn you to cinder,’ Brégenne replied with a flicker of her fingers.
‘Except you can’t.’ Yara glanced at the sky. ‘I’ve a few minutes to hide before sunset. I’ll come out in the morning.’
Brégenne smiled. The days she’d spent on the airship had done more to cement Wielder relations with the outside world than Naris had achieved in centuries. Argat’s airship is hardly the outside world, she reminded herself. But it was a start. She had high hopes that one day Wielders would be as usual a sight in Mariar as the sun in the sky.
‘Another game?’ Yara asked, shuffling the cards. She wore a short coat this afternoon over her cut-off trousers, though her feet were still bare and as grubby as usual. Flying north was a little like going forward in time. Where the southlands were still bathed in the sunny skies of late summer, here autumn’s colourful decay had already set in and the country beneath the Eastern Set’s hull was a patchwork of fire, all yellows and reds.
Brégenne was about to accept when a flash caught her eye. She stood up, looking west, and saw it again: a golden streak swooping out of the light. Her stomach clenched; it was an envoi, racing the sun, which was fast sinking behind the mountains on their left. Yara stood and then had to duck with a curse as the bird narrowly missed her head. Brégenne held up her wrist and the envoi landed.
She sensed Nediah’s signature in the Solar energy and there was another beside it, adding to the power of the envoi. But they were both still Solar. As the sun fell beyond the horizon, the words racing across her palm came to a sudden halt midsentence. Brégenne swore.
‘What in the name of all things sacred was that?’
‘A message,’ Brégenne said, feverishly scanning the words before they faded. It seemed her run of bad luck wasn’t just manifesting in the cards. The envoi had reached her at the worst possible time. A few moments earlier and she’d have had the whole message. A few moments later and the envoi would have dissolved, reformed with the dawn and delivered the message in full. Now it was lost.
‘Who was it from?’ Yara asked.
‘You remember my companions – Nediah and Kyndra.’
Yara’s lips quirked. ‘Yes, of course. Nice-looking man, very gullible. And the young lady – captain liked her a lot.’
Brégenne frowned. ‘The last time Argat saw her, he tried to kill her. And me,’ she added. ‘I seem to remember you were involved.’
‘Ah.’ Yara bared her teeth. ‘That’s just our way of showing affection.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’ Brégenne shook her head and walked to the western rail. The mountains that had been the Infinite Hills now resembled foothills of rubble that stretched as far as the eye could see. It was lucky no settlements had been built in their shadow, lucky that they had spilled their bones across a nameless Acrean plain. Or perhaps it wasn’t luck, but Kyndra. She had never told Brégenne exactly how she’d destroyed the last of Kierik’s power, but the force that had torn down mountains seemed equally capable of protecting Mariar from the resulting backlash. Brégenne remembered a rumour she’d heard on the road to Market Primus, of a monstrous wave that would have swept the archipelago and the Eversea Isles into oblivion. It had vanished moments before it struck, prompting most to dismiss the tale as a drunken fisherman’s dream.
Ironic, Brégenne thought, as she stared at the crumbled mountains. They were almost as much of a barrier in their fallen state as they had been in their original. She couldn’t imagine an army attempting to cross those hellish ruins.
‘Brégenne,’ Yara said and she realized she was standing frozen, her hands clenched like vices on the ship’s rail. ‘What did the message say?’
‘They’ve run into their fair share of trouble – captured by Sartyans, rescued by a rebel group, some of whom might be Wielders.’ That gave her pause. To think the ability had survived in Acre … it could mean a whole new purpose for Naris, a purpose they’d lacked since the war. They could rebuild the citadel in a world from which they didn’t have to hide.
‘The Sartyan army caught up to them,’ she continued, ‘but not before they’d helped the rebels escape. Kyndra tried to reason with the general … that’s where the message cut off.’ She clenched her fists in frustration. ‘I saw something more about the red valley and maybe a name – Cymenza? I don’t know. The envoi couldn’t have delivered the message at a worse time. It was constructed from Solar energy and can only function during the day. Once it finds its recipient, the power is spent.’
Brégenne r
ealized she was speaking very quickly and she made herself stop. Yara had her head tilted on one side and was giving her an appraising look. ‘You don’t seem happy about something,’ she said.
‘Of course I’m not happy,’ Brégenne snapped. ‘It sounds as if they’re lucky to be alive.’ But that wasn’t it and she hated that it wasn’t. She could feel a flush in her cheeks. Why hadn’t Nediah sent his own envoi? Surely it hadn’t really been necessary for Kait to add her power too.
‘You miss him,’ Yara said. Brégenne looked at her in surprise and the first mate gave an unapologetic shrug. ‘And there’s someone with him, isn’t there? Someone close to him, someone who isn’t you.’
Brégenne narrowed her eyes. ‘Why do you think that?’
‘I know jealousy when I see it.’
She looked away, embarrassed and angry all at once. Was she so easy to read? All those years she’d spent schooling her expression to stillness, striving for serenity, for control. That wasn’t real, she told herself. And look where it got you. Enclosed in that supposedly strong, uncaring shell, she hadn’t been able to hear her own heart, not until it was too late.
‘I’d tell you it isn’t worth it,’ Yara said to the wind as it rushed by their faces. ‘But sometimes, perhaps it is. Then you shelve your pride and you fight.’
‘I thought my pride was all I had,’ Brégenne said so softly she hoped the ship and the sky would carry the words away.
But Yara heard them. ‘And you found you were wrong.’ She gave a crooked smile. ‘Life is a hard mistress, Brégenne. We live her all the same.’
The next morning, as they approached the borders of the Great Northern Forest, Gareth began to wear his trepidation like a cloak. They could go no further; there was no guarantee they’d find a clearing to land in and holding the airship steady in the air while Brégenne and Gareth disembarked required a skill Yara wasn’t sure she possessed. Brégenne kept a close eye on the young man – anxiety at returning home wasn’t wholly responsible for his pallid face and diminished weight. The gauntlet was taking a toll on his health. What it was doing to his mind, she didn’t like to guess.
Now Brégenne stood on deck, staring out at the inexhaustible bank of trees. This was as far north as she’d ever been and the map Argat had provided left a lot to be desired. No one had successfully charted the forest – explorers had an unfortunate habit of disappearing. Gareth’s memories were a child’s; he had only a vague knowledge of Ümvast’s location. Their best bet was to head due north until they found a path. It wasn’t much to go on.
‘Do you have everything you need?’ Yara asked, nudging one of the two packs with her toe.
‘Probably not,’ Brégenne admitted, ‘but we’ll manage. I wish we had our horses, though.’
‘They are no loss.’ Yara gestured at the forest. ‘The trees are thick and the paths narrow. You will do better on foot.’
Brégenne nodded. She had come to trust the first mate’s judgement and, with an unexpected pang, realized that she would miss her. She reached out and grasped Yara’s hand. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Hopefully, it won’t be too long before we meet again.’
Yara grinned and tossed her black braided hair over her shoulder. ‘Look after yourself, Brégenne. You haven’t lost nearly enough gold to me.’
‘Ready her to land!’ Argat called and Brégenne remembered that he’d never grounded the ship before. Yara gave her a wave and returned to her post in the boiler room. Brégenne’s stomach clenched as the Eastern Set trembled and lost height and she wondered whether they would miss the grassy plain entirely and crash into the trees. But then the airship’s descent slowed and began to level out. ‘Grab on to something!’ she heard Argat yell and she lunged for the rail just before the hull began to skim and bounce along the ground, almost jerking her hands free. The braziers had been doused, leaving the balloons hanging slack and the paddles at the ship’s rear had dropped to a leisurely spin.
As they slid to a stop, Gareth emerged from the deckhouse, faintly green. ‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ he muttered, palm clamped over his mouth.
But Argat’s eyes were shining. ‘Did you see that?’ he cried, dashing up to them. ‘I knew she could do it.’ He patted his ship affectionately. ‘We’re a team, her and me.’
‘It’s nice to be appreciated,’ Yara said drily, as she emerged from below, wiping greasy hands on her trousers.
Argat clapped her on the shoulder. ‘Your skill goes without saying.’
‘My skill likes to be acknowledged, Argat.’
‘I hope you can get the ship aloft again,’ Brégenne said, eyeing the shrunken balloons.
Yara waved a hand. ‘Don’t doubt it for a second.’
Gareth had turned his gaze to the wall of trees ahead of them. The forest looked far more imposing from ground level. The open plain rolled right up to it and stopped like sea at the tideline. There was no overlap – between one step and the next, grass ended and trees began. ‘Are you ready?’ Brégenne asked him and Gareth nodded.
‘Well,’ Argat said, ‘I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain, woman. Now it’s your turn.’
‘If you’re planning to scout out the borders of Acre – I know you, Argat – you need to be careful. The Sartyans have weapons that can knock your ship out of the sky.’
‘They can try,’ the captain said with his usual bravado, ‘but my thanks for the warning.’
Brégenne sighed, scooped up her pack and shrugged into it, watching Gareth do the same. ‘Remember, boy,’ Argat said, ‘should you find the gauntlet’s partner—’
‘They’re yours,’ Gareth muttered. He seemed cowed by the proximity of the forest.
‘We have that settled,’ Argat said. ‘Should you have need of me or my ship, send word.’ His leather coat flapped in the chill north wind and Brégenne was glad of the furred cloak secured on top of her pack. She had a feeling she’d need it before long.
‘Fair skies,’ Argat said as Brégenne and Gareth traversed the gangway his crew had lodged against the grass. ‘Bring me back a tale or two, won’t you?’
They stood on the dark lip of the forest watching the balloons reinflate and the paddles begin to turn. The Eastern Set lifted slowly from the ground, grass and mud clinging to her belly, leaving long grooves in the earth behind her.
Brégenne and Gareth watched the airship until it dwindled to a grey smudge and then they turned to face the forest, its reaches as strange and unknowable as Acre itself. Gareth’s face was stony, but he squared his shoulders and took the first step and Brégenne followed on his heels. Trees swallowed them, the day dimming to false twilight beneath the canopy. The greenish air smelled strongly of earth and must.
‘It will be hard to navigate in here,’ she said with a glance at the thick net of leaves and branches overhead. ‘We had better find a path and stick to it.’
‘I know there’s one leading north out of Svartas,’ Gareth said, ‘but we’re far to the west of it. We’ll have to cut our way through until we find another.’
They quickly discovered that was easier said than done. Although Gareth had his sword and Argat had lent them another, it was hot, hard work and Brégenne had to admit she didn’t have the muscles for it. After several hours of cutting and sawing, pulling and cursing, they had covered less than a quarter-league and blunted their blades. At this rate, it would be midwinter before they reached even the outskirts of Ümvast’s territory.
Gareth was sweating. ‘Can’t we do this the easy way?’ he said as they leaned against a knot of trunks. ‘We’re getting nowhere.’
‘Forest fires can quickly get out of control,’ Brégenne said. They’d already had this conversation. ‘And are you so keen to advertise our presence?’
Gareth dragged a sleeve across his forehead and then he slowly lowered his arm, staring at it. ‘There might be another way,’ he murmured.
‘No,’ Brégenne said sharply, seeing what he intended. ‘Remember what happened before.’
&nbs
p; ‘I remember,’ Gareth said and there was an echo of fear in his eyes. ‘But we can’t continue like this, Brégenne.’ He looked away. ‘I don’t know how much time I have.’
‘Use the Solar, then,’ she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘We’ll be careful.’
Gareth shook his head. ‘The smoke would give us away – you’re right. And it’s not only my people we have to worry about. This forest is home to things that wouldn’t hesitate to attack us. Tree-cats and bears, snakes – wolves up near the Rib Wall. I know we’re not defenceless, but this is their ground, not ours. We’re at a disadvantage.’
He was right, but she didn’t like the idea of using the gauntlet, not after seeing what it had done to Magnus. Gareth had looked ill for days. He still looked ill. ‘It might not work,’ the novice admitted. ‘I acted out of instinct in that fight with the Wielders.’
‘Can you control it, though?’ Brégenne asked. ‘Every time you’ve used it, it’s surprised you. And I was watching you, Gareth. You didn’t look like yourself.’
A shadow passed across his face, adding to those already gathered there. He swallowed. ‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘But something changed that day. I’ve been able to … to feel the gauntlet in a way I couldn’t before. Like it’s not just a piece of armour any more.’
She frowned, disturbed. ‘What do you mean?’
Gareth looked from his arm to her eyes. ‘It has a will.’
‘No,’ Brégenne said. ‘Gareth, you don’t know what you’re doing. If there’s even a grain of truth to Argat’s story, that thing is unbalanced. It’s incomplete. Without the other one—’
‘I don’t need the other one. Not right now. Not for this.’
Brégenne looked at the resolute set of his face and realized that there was little she could say to dissuade him. Gareth took off his glove, turning to regard the tangle of branches blocking their path. He stretched out his hand and gripped one. Brégenne tensed, but nothing happened. Wrinkles spread down Gareth’s brow as he frowned at the trees. After a minute or so, he sighed, lowering his arm. ‘It’s no good –’