by S. K. Holder
Above him, Skelos heard the sounds of the ocean. He looked up. He could make out the spiralling tunnel entrance above his head. There was another noise resounding in his ears: the patter of footsteps on stone.
This is quite the predicament. Citizen and boy stared at each other for a long time.
The boy wore a shirt that was far too big for him and a pair of trousers with the legs cut away at the knee. On his feet were a pair of dripping wet, brown sandals.
‘What are you doing here?’ said the boy. He scratched his head. His timid eyes veered off, staring at something Skelos couldn’t see.
‘And where is here?’ There was no need to panic just yet. Skelos rose unsteadily to his feet, patting down his robes, fixing his bag across his shoulder. The cage bars were made of wood. His Bolt-Shot whip would cut right through them. His hand went to his belt. Yes, he still had it.
This was a side of Narrigh he had not experienced. He knew its history and he knew plenty about regional customs, but he had not studied Narrigh’s magic. Moreover, he had no idea how the portals worked or where they led.
The boy did not reply. He stared at him blankly. Is he too stupid to understand the question? ‘What’s your name child?’
‘Teffin.’
Skelos pressed his face up against the bars. ‘What’s your other name?’
‘I haven’t one. I’m just Teffin.’
The boy’s gaze wandered off again. Skelos had the feeling the boy was not responsible for the cage, and it wasn’t the first time a visitor had dropped onto the bed of leaves. ‘Well Teffin, would you mind letting me out.’
The boy frowned. ‘I don’t know that I should.’
Skelos conjured up a smile. ‘I’m perfectly harmless.’
‘You’re wearing a sorcerer’s cloak.’
‘Oh,’ said Skelos. He threw off the cloak and then gave the cage bars a light shake. ‘You see, perfectly safe.’
‘Stop that!’ Teffin picked up a long stick from the floor, slid it through the bars and jabbed him hard in the shoulder. ‘You stay where you are. My mistress is coming.’
Skelos took out his Bolt-Shot whip. He released the Lashes and let them do their work. They turned the front of the cage to ashes. Skelos calmly stepped out. He tucked the Bolt-Shot inside his robes out of sight.
Teffin’s funnelled jaw dropped open. Skelos’s jaw did likewise when he saw a billow of red smoke rising about Teffin’s ears. The smoke drifted in front of the boy’s eyes.
‘What is this?’ He didn’t like surprises and he had no appreciation for sorcery.
The red smoke thickened around Teffin engulfing his small frame.
‘Stop it!’ Skelos shrieked. He jumped up and down, fanning the engulfing smoke with his hands. His eyes were watering, his throat burned, and worse he couldn’t see. He put his hands out in front of him and shuffled to where he thought he had seen a doorway. He felt someone poke him in the back and spun around in alarm. The smoke evaporated almost instantly and Skelos saw a woman standing in front of him. At first, he thought the woman was Teffin until he saw the boy standing up against the wall, his eyes as big as dinner plates. Skelos recognised her as the woman he had seen watching him, from her seat by the window, in the Verity Tavern. She had long white hair and bright amber eyes. She wore a pair of puffy trousers, tucked into a pair of long boots, a loose shirt, and a short jacket. Around her neck was a metal choker.
‘And who are you?’ asked Skelos.
‘Worack Veros,’ she said in a soft voice. ‘And I believe you are Skelos Dorm.’
Skelos’s heart quickened to hear his own name declared before him. He tried to see over her shoulder. There was a panelled-arched door behind her. He would destroy her if he had to. The Shardner knew him by name, outside of the Shardner his name was unknown, his indiscretions a secret. He wondered where the exit would take him. He didn’t want to face another precarious bridge just yet.
‘You can think about escaping, but there’s little point. The Shardner and the Baruchian army are all around us. I believe the Shardner would very much like to speak with you.’
Skelos stared at her, then at the dreary pitted walls. There were no windows. Teffin was sitting on the floor. He was studying a book filled with bizarre symbols and illustrations. ‘Where am I?’
‘In the Kingdom.’
Skelos gave a small gulp. He gazed at the cage from which he had broken free. He couldn’t believe he was back where he started, that his freedom had come to such a ludicrous end.
Worack bared a mouthful of milky white teeth. ‘It’s a one-way portal I’m afraid.’
He had options. He could bribe her or use the Avu’lore. His eyes narrowed. ‘Do you serve the Shardner or yourself?’
‘I serve myself through the Shardner. Now come with me.’
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘No, not really.’
She went through the door, leaving Teffin to his book.
With wary intrigue, Skelos followed.
There were ten guards waiting outside to accompany them. Worack Veros guided him down a stone passageway with adjoining corridors veering off in numerous directions. One by one, the guards fell away, ingested by the ominous passageways until, out of the original ten guards, only two remained.
‘You’re fortunate,’ she said. ‘Few who come through the portal survive.’ She pivoted on her heels, flashed him a smile, and then pivoted sharply away again.
‘I hardly think myself fortunate,’ he commented.
She halted outside a set of iron doors and flicked a switch on the wall. The doors grated open to reveal a lift, no more than eight feet high and six feet wide, lit with a small oil lamp. She stepped inside. Skelos and the guards bundled in after her. She pulled a lever on the inside wall. The doors closed and the lift slowly began to ascend.
The sweat rose on the nape of Skelos’s neck as he caught sight of an oil-smeared Bolt-Shot whip, swinging lazily from the belt of the tallest guard. The light cut across the guard’s lower jaw, the only part of his face not encased in metal, and Skelos saw that his lips were fixed in a sneer. I could crush that sneer if I wanted to by disarming him of his weapon. He would wait for the opportune moment, earmark his escape routes, and gage his enemies.
Skelos had bought everything of worth with him on this wretched journey, his stone, the Avu’lore, the Compulog, the painting. If any of these items were to be discovered in his possession, then his life of confinement would be torture, his chances of escaping Narrigh minuscule.
‘Where are you taking me? I’ve done nothing wrong.’ Technically, this wasn’t true, but how was she to know? The Shardner may have presumed him dead, kidnapped or simply lost in the underground maze.
‘You’re not here as a prisoner Sir Dorm, you are here as my guest.’
It was the first time anyone had addressed him in such a manner. He didn’t know whether to be flattered or appalled. In Pareus, his colleagues addressed him as ‘Doctor Skelos’, his friends ‘Skelos’ and those who didn’t know him, ‘Elder Citizen.’
‘You’re not a Citizen are you?’
She pulled back one side of her hair, exposing a pointed ear. ‘No, I’m not a Citizen.’
A Therin Elf, he should have known. Although he had to admit, she didn’t look the type to beguile him with harp music and flowery potions before subjecting him to the Shardner’s wrath. They can’t kill me. They need me, he reminded himself. Only he didn’t need them.
The lift shuddered to a halt. The doors opened out onto a stone-pillared balcony, which overlooked a monumental suite. Skelos gazed at the four Black Crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and took a deep intake of breath. The icicle-shaped crystals, forged from glass and Velvet opal, were seldom seen in any but the most opulent of First Status Citizens homes. The chandeliers were exorbitantly overpriced for two reasons; firstly because they were crafted by humans, not droids. Secondly, the Velvet opals were rare gems that could only be extracted from one of three mines locat
ed on the planet Kaltharine, forty-light-years away from Odisiris.
‘Make yourself comfortable,’ said Worack. She trotted down the steps leading off from one side of the balcony.
Skelos took the other flight of steps, which delivered him to the limestone floor below where he found himself alone.
The light given off by the four Black Crystal chandeliers was not strong, and the fire cast a warm glow across the partially shadowed chamber. There were no prints on the wall, no harps, no mirrors, and no windows. He couldn’t see any scratches or smudges of any kind upon the floor or the furniture. And there was no dust.
The suite was furnished with two leather couches, several armchairs and a concoction of glass and marble tables. All the furniture seemed to point at the suite’s centrepiece: an enormous fireplace in the shape of a pyramid.
Skelos deposited himself on the chair furthest away from the fireplace, afraid that if he got too close, the warmth would make him drowsy and thus vulnerable.
It was a simulated fire, exquisite in its simplicity. Its inventor had directed light onto a translucent cover so it appeared as if there was a blaze of red and yellow bursting from a stone-carved log. The fire gave a short hiss in the ensuing silence.
Skelos had hardly made himself comfortable when he heard the light patter of footsteps and turned to see a young girl running towards him, her arms outstretched.
‘Uncle!’ she cried.
Skelos shot out of his chair. ‘Amelia!’ He held the girl at arm’s length before she could envelop him in an embrace. ‘Where have you been?’
‘I’m sorry uncle.’ Her arms dropped to her side. Her shoulders slumped. The incandescence light fell onto her tiny face and the giant silver bow in her hair. She wore a silver dress, shoes, and matching gloves. She held a silver purse in her hand. ‘I wanted to find you, but the Maker summoned me.’
‘The Maker summoned you. What are you talking about? Not even I can summon you, and trust me if I knew a way to do it, I would.’ He stared around the room, his eyes bulging, and his stomach in knots.
‘You know the Maker uncle. You talk of him all the time.’
He clenched his jaw and his fists. ‘As a turn of phrase.’ He stooped, putting his face level with hers. ‘Is that what they told you to say?’
‘Who told me what to say?’
‘Are we being watched?’
‘I don’t think so. Lady Veros is really kind. She gave me this dress.’ She gave a twirl and a courtesy. ‘Isn’t it lovely?’
Skelos gave her a withered look. ‘Yes, for a five-year-old. Now drop the act. Do you have the Shard?’
‘What’s a Shard?’
Oh, that’s right, I didn’t tell her about it. ‘That piece of glass I gave you when we were in my old laboratory, before those men came. The one I told you to keep for me. Where is it?’
‘I don’t have it, uncle. The Shardner’s Special Army found me in Bluewood forest. They asked me all sorts of questions. I was afraid they were going to cut me into pieces, so I hid it.’
‘And where exactly did you hide it?’
She straightened her giant bow. ‘In a bag.’
Skelos seized her by the shoulders. Amelia’s eyes stayed fixed on his. She didn’t shrink away. ‘What bag?’ He could tolerate her fixation with childish dresses and her vacant expression as long as he had her loyalty. She was usually so obedient. Perhaps the Narrigh air is causing what’s left of her brain to seize up.
‘I met this Citizen boy, called Connor, in Bluewood forest. I put it in his bag. We travelled north together. I meant to get it back from him before he discovered it. I didn’t know we were going to get split up.’
‘Wait.’ Skelos took a breath. He walked around in circles, rubbing his forehead. ‘Are you telling me that you were with Connor in the North?’
‘Yes, uncle.’
So Connor had the Shard, which was why he ran. He had been a fool to let the boy go off on his own. ‘What I don’t understand is why you left the Kingdom in the first place? And don’t you dare tell me the Maker told you to.’
‘I panicked. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know where you were if I’d ever see you again. When the Shardner’s army found me in the forest, I told them I was lost. They didn’t believe me.’
‘I’m not surprised. I wouldn’t have believed you either. Can you not use your head? As soon as we landed in Narrigh you should have found an excuse to see me. Haven’t I taught you how to produce fake tears? How to push out your bottom lip so you look sad? You should have made it a priority to get the Shard directly to me or hide it somewhere safe within the Kingdom, not drop it into some unsuspecting Citizen’s bag hundreds of miles away.’
She nodded. ‘Sorry uncle. I wasn’t thinking.’
‘Unless you were helping the boy. Is that what you were doing? Helping him?’
‘No uncle. My loyalty lies with you. I haven’t betrayed you to anyone.’
‘And how did you end up here? More panic was it?’ He circled Amelia, scratching his beard while considering the quickest way to return to Undren. With any luck, the boy would still be there, and Duffy and his merry band would be halfway to gypsy town.
‘The Sighraith Band brought me back here after I got lost in one of their horrid tunnels. I got away from them, though. I think the Kingdom is the best place for us uncle. It’s clean, warm and the Citizens here are normal. They won’t jab at your hand with a knife or pretend to come from a whole other world. When I...’
So the rumors were true. The Sighraith Band did exist. ‘Stop your whittling. Where is the Sighraith Band now?’
‘Fighting I expect. The Furnace faction is going to help them seize some land.’
I could do with a diversion. Although, I’ll need to ensure no one kills me in the process. ‘Were there Citizens among them? A girl and two young men?’
She shrugged, her bow bobbing about on her head. ‘I’m not sure. There was an older Citizen called Yate. I didn’t pay much attention to anyone else.’
‘You should have!’ He glared at her. ‘If you’re going to skip out of the Kingdom, the least you can do is found out what’s going on outside its walls and report back to me, not play fancy dress in a Therin Elf’s palace.’
‘But this isn’t a Therin Elf’s palace, uncle.’
He jerked his head up, surveying the Black Crystal chandeliers. He cast his eyes to the fireplace. How could he have been so stupid? ‘Which Citizen dwelling is this?’ he hissed.
Amelia smiled. ‘Osaphar’s.’
Skelos felt the blood rush to his head. He had not spoken to Osaphar since he was condemned to exile and the first time he had laid eyes on him, since his arrival in Narrigh, was in Undren church. The thought of confronting his former friend made him feel faint. Sick. The humiliation would be too great. He couldn’t cope with it. He wasn’t ready.
He’ll turn me over to the Shardner Council in heartbeat.
Amelia opened her purse. She took out a glass vial and handed it to him.
‘What’s this?’ Amelia smile was still fixed on her face. Is she giving me poison? Does she mean for me to take my own life?
‘An Invisibility potion. There’s not much left. You could get some more from the Guild Vaults before Osaphar returns.’
Skelos gave her a hug. ‘You know there are times Amelia when I wish you really were my niece.’
‘And you my uncle.’ She pointed to set of grey doors. ‘Go this way.’
Skelos drank the tasteless potion. He observed the rapid transparency of clothes and flesh, preceding his concealment, with increasing disquiet. He was relieved to discover he didn’t feel any different.
Worack returned carrying a tray set with two glasses and a slender bottle filled with a rich dark liquid. She appeared to stare directly at the spot where Skelos stood.
He was breathing loud enough to wake the dead. What if she can’t see me, but she can hear me with her big elf ears?
‘I wondered where you’d gone,’ Worack
told Amelia. ‘And where’s our guest?’
‘There was no one else here,’ she replied. ‘Just me and my shadow.’
She ran to the grey doors, pulling them open. Skelos took the opportunity to make his exit at lightning-speed. Shame, he could have done with a drink.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Compared to the Kingdom of Baruch, Undren village was the picture of tranquillity. In Undren, the streets were busy, here Connor found them manic.
The inhabitants of the Kingdom yelled and screamed in a host of different languages. Everyone was popping up in the wrong place. A gaggle of geese had succeeded in upsetting one of the market stalls. People dashed into the roads. Horse-drawn carriages mounted the pavements.
Eight streets converged into the city square. In its centre, the Shardner had erected a gold statue of the last King and Queen of Baruch. At their feet, sat twelve stone statues that represented the highest serving members of the Shardner government.
Connor was cutting across the city square, gawking at a man with a rope of onions around his neck as he chased a lurid yellow donkey when he bumped into a woman in a boat-shaped apron. She dropped the basket of fruit she was carrying and pointed to the sky where an obnoxious black cloud was forming, drowning out the sun. ‘We’re under attack!’
Connor stooped to collect the scattered peaches, oranges, and apples. He carelessly tossed the fruit into the basket and followed the woman’s finger with his eyes. It looked as if another windstorm was on its way.
‘Be gone with you!’ said the woman. ‘You’re getting more fruit out than in.’
‘Sorry.’ He looked down. Most of the fruit he had collected had missed the basket. He had managed to smash a solitary peach on his boot. The stray fruit had rolled under the feet of dashing passers-by or under the wheels of carriages and wagons that rumbled past.
He knew he wasn’t going to find the dungeons in the middle of the city square, so he headed for the outskirts where all the flies and nasty smells seemed to congregate behind a thick stone wall with a single archway.
Set within the archway was an iron door. At the top of the door was a grate. Through the grate, Connor saw the top of a guard’s helmet as he sauntered past.