The Iron Altar Series Box Set One: Books 1 to 3

by Casey Lea

  Amber’s last life had just begun, but her brother’s was almost spent. Her heart caught at the thought and she wondered how long he had left. He looked like a fading photo of the person she remembered. Grief almost leaked from her soft, childish fronds, but she tucked it away for another time and found a smile for Sparrow instead. He still projected a calm authority, draped in the yellow, cream and gold robes of the Leader of the Beuro for Genome Protection. Amber's mouth curved more genuinely at that. Her loyal second had waited centuries to lead the BGP and it suited him.

  “Sparrow,” she rasped, trying to clear her throat to say more, but her best friend placed a seamed finger against her lips.

  “Take some time. You're just newborn.” He creaked further forward to kiss her cheek. “You look lovely, dearest. Not a day past four hundred thousand.”

  “While you look every second of ancient,” Amber whispered and then grimaced. Why did she always do that? If anyone deserved to get away with being sweet to her it was Sparrow. “I'm sorry. It seems inside I'm still old, crusty and unable to take good advice.” She paused again, while swallowing rapidly. Patience was not one of her strengths, but at least it had come easier when she was still in an old body. In her reborn form it was almost impossible to find. “Is it dawn?”

  Sparrow's face fell back into a frown. “No, sweet. We're still deep in the night. Why do you ask? Ah, the birdsong. No, I ordered that for your birth. I hope you like it.”

  “Always, as you know well.” Amber stopped to breathe. The pain was fading, so it should be possible to find more than a whisper. “I've been- drakkit.” She stopped again and steeled herself for further effort. “I've been worried for you. Has the Arck caused trouble? How long has passed?”

  “Just eight months. Your crystal started to shred within days of my return, so we directed all our energy to forcing rapid metabolism. Your body has roughly ten cycles of maturity. We didn't dare wait any longer, so you still have the joys of puberty ahead.”

  Amber grimaced at that unexpected news. Adolescence again? How ghastly. Some things never needed repeating and that was close to the top of her list. Just below being born and being blown up. She pushed her arms against the mattress and managed to rise on her elbows to look down at her new body. Well. That was unexpected.

  Amber filled only half of the mattress. The medbay had dropped a sheet over her and her legs were lost in its silver folds. She tried to kick them free, but they simply twitched in response.

  “Most encouraging,” Sparrow murmured and she gave him an exasperated look. He tilted forward to lift the edge of the cover for her.

  Amber's gaze snapped down again and she studied herself critically. Pale yellow skin that glittered where it stretched over her knees and shins was familiar, but she was so skinny. Her legs looked like two strands of pasta. Palace pasta, the thinnest sort. Her feet seemed minute and her toes were definitely tiny. She wriggled them and at least they responded, which made her smile.

  “You're very cute,” Sparrow observed and her smile vanished.

  “I don't need cute. Cute is useless. I need strong.”

  "Strong you have," Sparrow said dryly. "Cute I haven't seen for some time."

  Amber's fronds bristled, stirring behind each ear for the first time. One of those golden strands rose into her peripheral vision and she sent determination to Sparrow as hard as she could. The emotion was much softer than she intended and only just reached his mind. It was a childish thought, high and lisping and he had the temerity to chuckle.

  “So cute.”

  “Stop accusing me of that. I'm a withered old relic, not a child.”

  “Yes you are, and it's most fortunate too.” Sparrow bit his lip, but the words were out and along with them an overwhelming emotion. Amber flinched at a fear so strong it verged on despair. She clenched her tiny fists in response and Sparrow sent an unspoken apology.

  “I'm an old fool, and a worrier. Ignore me.” You have great strength of heart and mind, no matter what your age. No, this is good. Your body is young and will last as long as necessary.

  Until the Devourer attacks, you mean.

  The tip of one of Sparrow's spiky fronds lifted in agreement.

  Then why so scared? Amber demanded and he looked away. You think I'll die before he returns to harvest everyone?

  I fear it. Your crystal is a total loss, turned to mist. This is the end for us.

  “Yes.” Yes, but we will face it with conviction. Is she well? The human?

  Darsey you mean?

  Amber frowned and tossed back her hair. Of course. Don't tease me, baby brother. Every life out there depends on keeping her far from the Devourer. So is she safe? Are we all safe?

  Sparrow patted her hand. Apologies, older but much smaller sister. She's well and I watch her close.

  Amber clenched her small fists against his soothing touch. We can't place her at risk. If she dies...

  Sparrow blanched and jerked upright to sit almost straight. Gods above and below. If she died he would simply breed another conduit for his feeding, but that could take generations. We'd be long gone.

  Indeed. So where is Darsey? The Devourer could be starting his vampire act with her right now-

  No, no. Be calm. She’s with her husband aboard their new ship, the Nexus.

  Deep within Amber something relaxed very slightly. Good. Wing will keep her safe. Has their babe been born yet?

  No. My spies say at least another thirty-three days.

  Amber let her head fall back and eyes close at that. Also good. I'd hate to see an unborn child stabbed as part of a feeding. She looked up at her brother and they both shuddered. We can stop the monster this time, she repeated. He thinks me long dead and sees no risk. He can't guard against an attack he doesn't even suspect. Can he? Please, Sparrow, I need you to have faith too.

  “Of course” he whispered. “For you, anything. Certain-sure I've no right to whimper yet. We're still far from the point of true despair, and surprise is with us.”

  “You never whimper. A passing whine mayhap, but no more. So, tell me of my new life and our present politics. What of immediate danger? External troubles?”

  “Well, Arck Sharpeye has been his usual self, but I've managed to protect the Beuro. We're still independent from the throne and ready to follow you.”

  “No.” Amber offered a wry smile to soften her refusal. “I'm sorry, old friend, but I don't need the money and I certain-sure don't want the fame. Anyway, you've always been the better leader. Caring and involved-”

  “Whereas you only care enough to offer up your life for everyone.” Sparrow twisted a hand in apology before Amber could do more than frown. I know. Such things should never be said aloud. “My mind tends to wander these days.”

  Amber reached out, slowly but steadily, and squeezed his arm. “Perfect. You can forget half of the tedious details and all of the moral compromises needed to run a bureaucracy.”

  Sparrow chuckled, but broke off when Amber levered herself further upright until she was sitting. “Hold-” he began, but she shot him a warning look. He pressed his lips into a seamed yellow line and stayed silent while she tested her balance.

  Amber twisted carefully, turning from one side to the other, studying herself before wiggling her toes again. Her body had survived intact and was increasingly functional. She sighed and reached automatically for the necklace at her throat. Her hand brushed only bare skin and she froze. There was nothing there. Her crystal was gone now, shattered to dust around her. Whatever state her new body was in, it would have to do. There would never be another.

  "Our last crystal is gone," Amber said, still not truly believing it. She looked at Sparrow for confirmation. "Just disintegrated, but yours didn't explode like that. I birthed you and it survived."

  "Only a day," he admitted. "When I returned for collection it was still trying to shrink back to normal size. It started to crack, then crumble and soon only dust remained."

  Amber felt her face twist
unexpectedly. Was she scowling, or about to cry? Or both? She turned away, but her thoughts were still strangely soft. You should have told me. grief/despair Now neither of us can be reborn, but if I'd known I might have found a way to prevent this.

  Amber's hand finally stopped searching for the absent necklace and she let it fall back to the bed. Something sharp sliced into her palm. She was moving, rolling away from the pain to hit the floor face first before she could even register being cut. She lay with her nose pressed into the thick pile carpet and the fresh shock brought tears to her eyes. Her body collapsed around sobs at the same time that she tried to roll her eyes in wry disgust.

  Amber wept and sighed at once, which was surprisingly difficult and annoyingly unpleasant. This night would definitely have to rate among the worst of her life. What could have caused her most recent pain? Surely her brother wasn't storing knives in her bed. Had she really been cut, or had she simply panicked?

  Amber steeled herself to sit and then studied her hand. She blinked down at blood running freely onto the silver sheet still tangled around her. A dark red stream surged along its moonlit valleys. She was getting light headed already, while her personal regen struggled to close the gash.

  Amber looked up at Sparrow, but he was already moving. Seamed hands gripped her wrist to raise her injured hand, while a specialized regeneration strip slithered higher to wrap around it. She blinked back further tears and ducked her head. Sparrow's loyalty was the one constant in all her lives. Something glinted in her peripheral vision and she reached down to check what was shining in her draped sheet. She used her uninjured hand to carefully stretch and flatten its silk ripples.

  A drying streak of blood appeared on the cover, followed by a pile of translucent gold, with sharp planes and jagged edges that reflected the light in a dozen directions. Some of her crystal had survived. She tugged at the sheet more urgently, but was careful not to touch the remains and slice herself open again. The pile of pieces fell apart, tumbling into three. Three shards. Two were tiny, but the third...

  “Sparrow, look.”

  “A minute,” the old kres murmured. Amber sat patiently while he finished healing her hand, but as soon as he drew back she bounced up and down on the carpet. “Look, look. See? Is it big enough?”

  Sparrow leaned over her, lips pursed while he studied the shards. He finally sighed and sat back, shaking with the strain. “Doubtful. This last pregnancy pushed a full crystal to its limits. The crystalline matrix can only just expand far enough to grow an entire person and even the biggest of those shards holds only a third of that volume.” Calm/relax Be patient and simply grow for a time.

  Amber sighed, but bundled her crystal fragments into the sheet and pushed them aside. “Can we make a necklace from them anyway? A small basket woven from gold to keep them safe?”

  “Certain-sure, dearest. And while we wait, I recommend this.” Sparrow leaned down to retrieve something from the side of the bed. He lifted a battered picnic hamper into sight, making Amber hiccup and her eyes burn, even as she started to laugh. She knew that frayed wicker container well, despite the fact that it looked worse than ever. The crystal's explosion had left it torn and dangling from a single handle.

  She tried to laugh again, but the sound caught in her throat and she covered it with a cough.

  “It's the middle of the night,” she protested.

  Sparrow nodded a hand at that and lowered the hamper. “It is well past your bedtime-”

  “I'm not a baby! I'm older than you-” Amber stopped and bit her lip when her brain caught up with her words. Her hair stirred, in annoyance more than embarrassment, but Sparrow didn't even smile. Instead he leaned carefully forward to offer her his hand.

  “It's a lovely summer night and I happen to know...”

  “The perfect place?” Amber whispered. “It had better be, to drag me from my bed on my birthday.” She reached for Sparrow's elbow and rose easily. That was a surprise, but a good one. The regeneration of her punished body must be complete. She was the one giving support when they made their way past the innermost security field and into the fresh evening air.

  Amber stopped when that cool breeze brushed her skin and looked down in sudden horror. “Sparrow! Are you past senile? You're about to take me out naked.”

  The old kres blinked at that and then started to chuckle.

  Amber stamped her foot. “It's far from funny.”

  “Well, it would have been better if we'd actually strolled the BGP grounds chatting with the guards and the late night students...” He broke off chortling and Amber felt her bare foot strike the ground again. Quite hard. She spun to stamp over to a storage strip on the wall and kicked the foot of the bed while she waited for some clothes to decompress. The gesture didn’t help at all. She caught a filmy dress and dragged it over her head. She smoothed it flat, before wrapping her arms around her scrawny chest. Her feet hurt.

  A snort escaped Sparrow and she looked up to glare. He was trying so hard not to laugh his face was twisted and his lips pinched tight. Her expression softened.

  “It seems I remember how to overreact. Sorry.” Sparrow burst out laughing and Amber had to wait for his delight to pass. “Laugh away, but best keep it behind my back, at least for several decades.”

  “At the very least,” Sparrow murmured and Amber gave him a sharp look before she could stop herself.

  “So,” she said and tried to sound contrite, “shall we picnic?”

  “Always a good plan.”

  He offered his arm and she took it again, snuggling close to support him. They strolled through the atrium of the birthing chamber together. Sparrow's com sent the exit code to the final field guarding their secret room and it deactivated. Amber lifted the tapestry beyond, standing on tiptoes to hold it while her companion crept under and they snuck back into the main halls of the BGP castle.

  They moved forward, but something caught at Amber's face. Sticky threads tangled in her hair and she wondered whether the tapestry needed repair. She wiped them from her cheek and head, but more settled, until she broke away, striding to the far side of the passage. She looked back and swore softly.

  The entire alcove that held the tapestry was filled with cobwebs. Gleaming strands stretched from one side pillar to the other and hung from ceiling to floor. The carvings on the lintel were filled by dozens more.

  “Oh my,” Sparrow muttered, shuffling to join her and wiping at his robe. “How strange.”

  It was past strange. How could there be so many webs in an energy-protected building?

  “Where have they come from?” Sparrow asked, peering upward and picking at his clothes. There was no breeze, but some of the impossible strands began to sway.

  One slipped from its anchor and wafted across the passage to brush past Amber's face like a caress. She shivered in response, before turning to hurry Sparrow on. He protested mildly and she paused to let him regain his balance. She waited and managed to stop her foot before it started tapping. Her unease was ridiculous. Spiders were small and resourceful. They could find their way into unexpected places. Amber looked back at the hidden door and shuddered again. Cobwebs were still clustered around the exit, as thick and white as a second womb and she increased her pace, half-carrying Sparrow with her, but still couldn't outrun the feeling that something, somewhere was watching her.

  ***

  The web was hard to see, even against the darkness of space. Each silver strand was impossibly fine, despite its strength and in the inky void between worlds their delicate tracery was invisible. However, their presence in passage space was very different. Tendrils forced open singularities throughout Kresynt's system and then burrowed into them, spinning the web through time and space. It spread voraciously, hungry for data, but only the right data. Only information that would bring a reward from God.

  2

  Take Two

  Darsey IceFlight lay very still and let consciousness return. Her head ached and her tongue was surely too lar
ge for her mouth, but she ignored them. She was lying flat on her back and it was already throbbing. Heat prickled under her eyelids, while her lashes grew annoyingly damp. Damn all hormones. She was too pregnant to be knocked out and dragged... where?

  Darsey breathed deeply, pushing down fear and self-pity. She relaxed, then carefully tested the energy field that seemed to be restraining her. It was unyielding. Her eyes flew open and she tried to move again, struggling with all her strength this time, but with no more success than before. She was held as hard as a fly in amber. Panic grew again and it took an unexpected effort to force it back. Darsey belatedly realized she was not only weak from being knocked out, but also suffering from com–loss. She strained to lift her head and failed. All she could do was turn it slightly, then roll her eyes from side to side in an effort to find out where she was. What she saw was no comfort at all.

  A steel roof was met by plain steel walls. She was lying in a metal box so brightly light it must surely be a laboratory. Her best friend Clearwing, lay on a medfield beside her, looking equally helpless. The kres stared back from huge eyes. Eyes as dark as pits.

  “Any idea where we are?” Darsey whispered, but her companion simply kept staring. Her belly, as distended by pregnancy as Darsey's, rippled when the baby moved. “Clear, look at me. I mean properly. Try some blinking and a bit of that focus thing. It works wonders and as soon as you can see we’ll get out of here.”

  “Oh,” Clear answered faintly and managed a very slow blink. “How?”

  “You tell me. I can see half-a-dozen consoles and plenty of high-tech equipment. Scalpels too and bottles of embalmed-… actually, perhaps you shouldn’t look. I’ll tell you what we’ve got. The main console is gentik with an interface I can feel from here. Together we can do this. It's not like we haven't been in trouble before. Being married to cousins who were both on a tyrant's Things To Dispose Of list definitely wasn't good for our health.”