by Gwynn White
“Move, Chenayan,” Porcelain-Face commanded.
He grabbed his reins and urged his pony forward. The woman and two of her companions disappeared back the way Axel had just come. An hour passed before she and the two men caught up with them.
“No excitement from the Chenayan camp?” Axel asked her. “How disappointing for you.”
“Just because no one followed doesn’t mean we trust you, Avanov,” one of the men, wearing a sapphire-blue ice crystal gauge in his left ear, snapped.
“Yet, you are taking me to your king.” He shot Earring a taunting smile. “Unless, of course, you merely wish to get me alone to kill me.”
A snort from Porcelain-Face. “Ever considered that you might be worth more alive?”
Axel didn’t bother smothering his laughter. “Trust me, Emperor Lukan would probably pay you more to take me off his hands than he would to get me back.”
“Unlikely. You’re his warlord and the new crown prince, all rolled into one,” the giant said, voice filled with contempt.
News of Tao’s “defection” had traveled this far? Axel wondered if it would help or hinder his negotiations with Chad. Despite—or perhaps as a result of—Lukan and Felix’s photographic evidence, the more Axel thought about Lynx and Tao fleeing, the less he believed it. It all appeared too convenient.
Axel fixed Giant with a sharp eye. “I try not to let big titles like that go to my head. Right now, I’m a captive, trusting you to allow me to put an end to this war. Your king must have some confidence in my credentials, or, I assume, we would not be enjoying this delightful evening ride together.” Axel waved his hand in the air. “That said, the company could be better.”
“Smart ass,” someone muttered.
“Just shut up and ride, Chenayan,” Porcelain-Face commanded, nudging more speed out her pony.
“Notch one up for Trevenite hospitality,” Axel said, before bracing himself against the pain in his shoulder as his pony broke into a canter.
If this was the worst they did to him, then he had no complaints.
* * *
The sun was high and hot as Axel skirted his tireless pony around yet another abandoned plow in yet another half-turned field. They had avoided the main roads, controlled by the invaders—his army—sticking to a river that wound through the farmlands.
The fallow fields niggled at Axel’s conscience. Hunger would ravage Chad’s people this winter, if it hadn’t already started. It was just one more problem he had to solve if he was to win any support in Chad’s displaced court.
Axel wiped his face on his shirt sleeve. Damp with sweat, he itched to throw himself into the stream. It wasn’t just the exertion from riding most of the night and half the day; he also fought waves of pain from his wound. Muscles weakened by the Norin poison screamed for a break, but he rode on.
Another couple of hours, and the rolling farmlands gave way to rocky hills that skirted the main range. The mountains, which yesterday had seemed far away, now loomed above him. Soon, they would start climbing. He scanned the crags for footpaths but saw nothing. As far as he could tell, it would take a bird to cross the peaks.
To his right cascaded a waterfall, tumbling into the river they had followed since leaving his camp. Ferns and vines clung precariously to its rocky flanks, glossy in the spray mist. Axel turned his pony into the spray and closed his eyes, sighing with relief as the icy particles drifted over him.
“You plan on joining us, Chenayan?” Porcelain-Face demanded.
Axel shot his head around to see her and her pony on a narrow ledge abutting the waterfall. The other riders had disappeared. There was nowhere else to go but behind the curtain of water.
Grinning at her, he kneed his pony into action. “Mesmerized by the scenery. There sure is a lot of it.”
“Then you’ll like where we are going.” She clicked her tongue, setting her pony into motion.
Axel followed.
Seemingly oblivious of the water thundering down on them, his mount picked a path across the treacherous mossy rocks after her.
As Axel suspected, she led them behind the waterfall into a cave. What he hadn’t anticipated were the ice crystal stalactites of every hue that dazzled from the roof. Sunlight streaming through the water set the colors dancing, a kaleidoscope of gemlike flares that took Axel’s breath away. The five Trevenites watched him, an almost paternalistic amusement on their faces.
Axel shrugged self-consciously. “You know how it is, timber always looks better when still growing on the tree. I guess you can say the same for ice crystal.”
“This is just a small cave.” The woman drew her sword and sliced off a piece of the red stone with a snap. “I promise, it gets better.” She caught it and threw the small triangle of crystal over to Axel.
He snatched it and held it up to the light. It resembled the ruby next to his eye, and he wondered if that was why she had chosen it.
Five sets of eyes challenged him.
Axel shot them an equally challenging look. “Pretty. But I still prefer my ruby. You can’t beat the real thing—even if it has no powers.”
“We wouldn’t know,” Giant said. “And we have no intention of finding out, either. No matter what your cousin may plan to do.”
“If he even manages to conquer us,” the woman said with a naive confidence Axel found strangely charming.
With no trace of his thoughts coloring his words, he said, “That’s what I’m here for, to ensure that never happens.” With no sign of anyone else nearby, he doubted they had entered the tunnels close to where King Chad hid and so anticipated another few torturous hours perched on his pony’s back. “So, any chance of hurrying up so I can speak to your king?” He opened his arms wide. “Put on your blindfold or whatever you plan to blind me with.”
“The mines are all we need,” Porcelain-Face said. “Soon, you won’t know your ass from your elbow. Works better than any blindfold. Ask all the other Chenayans who came wandering in here.” She and the men laughed. She paused. “Right. You can’t. They’re dead.” She gestured to her men to keep moving.
The clip of hooves on stone the only sound, Axel followed them down a passage carved out of the mountain. He marveled as seams of ice crystal flared and sparkled in the light of evenly spaced torches. The tunnel branched countless times in the hours they trekked through the dank air, and as much as Axel tried to keep his bearings, as Porcelain-Face suggested, he was soon disoriented.
Axel’s stomach rumbled noisily so he took a swig of water to calm its pangs. He was stashing the skin when the walls around him widened into a chamber, easily the size of the great hall in the palace. It was crowded with about fifty people, only one of whom he immediately recognized—Chad, the Trevenite king.
A tall man like most Trevenites, Chad was young, only a couple of years older than Axel, perhaps in his late twenties. The side locks of his long ginger hair were swept back from his face and clasped together into a ponytail with a gold chain strung with ice crystal. It was the only adornment indicating he was a man of status. The rest of his attire—black leggings and tunic—were ragged, as could be expected after living months under the earth.
Axel’s companions sprang from their ponies and fell down before him.
Porcelain-Face spoke in rapid-fire Trevenese, none of which Axel understood. The king kept glancing at him, his face inscrutable. They were talking about him, then. Axel dismounted and stepped forward, arms hanging loosely at his sides. Even though a prisoner here, he wasn’t prepared to bow; to do so would be to show weakness. He used the opportunity to study the assembled people.
Their faces were thin and their clothes hung on them, confirming what Axel expected—hunger already bit. He thought of his own ravenous stomach and decided that, unless pressed, he would not be eating here.
A striking woman with mahogany-colored hair and intense green eyes hooked his attention. She held a baby in her arms, with another small boy clinging to her skirts. Chad’s wife and children,
the family Axel would have assassinated had he gotten his way when the decision to invade Treven was made. Guilt knifed him, and he was glad when she broke eye contact with him.
“You must be anxious for this meeting,” Chad at last said to Axel in Chenayan. “My people tell me that, despite your quarrel wound, you kept up their brutal pace without complaint.”
“I’m made of tougher stuff than that.” Axel studied Chad’s gaunt face, noting the black circles around his eyes. With luck, the dire condition of his people would encourage him to accept Axel’s crazy, high-risk plan to, ever so briefly, hand Lukan these mines in exchange for Malika’s safe return.
If Chad rejected his seemingly absurd offer, well, Axel guessed he’d never see the light of day again. A quick swallow, and he pushed his fear aside. It had no place here if he was to win this negotiation.
Chad snorted. “I’ll take your word for it, although your bleached face tells me something else. Now, Chenayan, what do you wish to say?”
“I have something to show you. Will our discussions be in private or”—Axel waved an arm around the cavern—“will your councilors be part of it?”
“No one leaves.”
“As you wish.” As Axel walked toward a green ice crystal pedestal in the center of the cavern, the crowd parted. He pulled his informa and the illustration from his pocket. The paper he put on the pedestal; the informa he tossed into the air. Catching it, he faced the giant. “Sorry I lied to you, but I really needed this for my discussion with your king.”
Every person in the hall stiffened. At least a dozen crossbows lifted, aimed at his chest.
“Been there, done that,” Axel said to the bowmen, pushing the bravado. A quick smile to boost the impression that he was fearless, then he placed the informa on the table. He turned to Chad. “I take it you have had some communication with Thorn and Jerawin?”
“Enough to get you through the door.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind them joining us.” Axel flicked his thumb across his informa.
His confidence belied his pounding heart as he waited for it to start up. When light blossomed through the top of the “stone,” he pulled the rays up and scrolled through the lines of text with his finger.
A hiss of surprise and fear rippled through the Trevenites.
King Chad held up his hand. “I warned you he may bring something like this. Now, be still.”
The susurrus died, leaving heavy anticipation in its wake.
“I’ve summoned both kings,” Axel said to Chad. “It may take a moment or two for them to connect with us.”
King Thorn’s head and torso appeared in the air above the informa, and his voice cut through the air. “Axel! You made it! That is a relief.”
Axel smiled—a genuine one. He stepped in front of a tiny camera lens and thumped his fist to his chest. “In one piece. Surprisingly, given my current track record. King Chad is here with me.” He indicated that the Trevenite king should join him.
“Thorn,” Chad greeted when he was shoulder to shoulder with Axel.
“Good to see you alive, my friend.” Thorn looked directly at Axel, worry etching his face. “What news of Lynx before we begin our main discussion?”
Axel’s jaw clenched. “Lukan and my father showed me images of Tao and Lynx boarding a ship for Kartania. But my source, the person I told you about who is helping me find her, reports that Lynx had no intention of fleeing. She also tells me that Lynx is pregnant. She witnessed the same visitor Lynx saw before the wedding arriving a second time to confirm the pregnancy. All the more reason for Lukan to imprison Lynx rather than let her escape.”
Thorn swore. “May the Winds curse him.”
Aware of the rapt attention of every Trevenite in the cave, Axel figured it wouldn’t do any harm for them to see him on good terms with Thorn. “My sentiments exactly. Though whether I have any sway with the Winds yet, I don’t know.”
Thorn spared him a smile.
Axel continued, “The visitor named the child. He is to be called Nicholas the Light-Bearer. I believe this has some significance to you Norin?”
Thorn started. “I never thought I would hear a Chenayan utter that name. The Light-Bearer constellation once graced our flag. Before Thurban’s invasion.”
Axel nodded. But arcane history didn’t interest him right now. He had the making of future history on his mind. “It’s my view Lynx is incarcerated somewhere in the Heartland. I will send you news the moment I know anything.”
A second face snapped into life next to Thorn. King Jerawin, easily identified by the deep-blue and yellow tattoo of the sun, two moons, and a sweep of stars on the right side of his face.
“Ah, Jerawin,” Thorn said, before Axel could speak. “Welcome to our meeting. Now that we are all assembled, Axel, tell us your plan to save our people.”
Chapter 30
This was it. Down to the wire. Axel drew in a slow breath, just resisting the urge to wipe his clammy hands on his trousers. As brave and ferocious as these people were, they looked to him for salvation, little appreciating the full force of the arsenal Lukan could still fling at them. Axel had to make them understand that stealth was their only chance, so he spoke in terms they could understand.
“The Dragon is a cunning beast. It guards its hoard fiercely, giving no quarter when threatened. A ferocious appetite, it also covets the hoards of others, stealing from weaker prey with impunity. But it can be defeated if one knows how.” He turned the informa so he was still within range of its camera and walked to Chad’s wife. A fan-shaped comb made of green ice crystal held her hair away from her face. “May I?”
Surprised, she pulled it out and gave it to him.
Once back at the pedestal, Axel held up the comb for everyone to see. An imperceptible flick of his wrist, and the comb vanished. A few of the more gullible Trevenites murmured. Another invisible twist, and it was back in Axel’s hand.
“Sleight of hand. That is how one begins to kill a Dragon.” Axel put the comb down on the stand. “It will take nerves of steel, blood sacrifice, and more money than any of you can imagine, but I believe we can deceive Lukan into thinking he owns the Treven ice crystal mines.”
He studied each king’s face. “Do you have nerves of steel? Are you willing to spill blood? Will you trust me to get you the money you need for this effort?” Not expecting answers, he continued, “Because if you do, I propose sending my troops into these mountains with the command to hunt down and kill every Trevenite soldier they find, until every sheet of ice crystal belongs to the Chenayan emperor.”
Both Thorn and Jerawin swore, a sound matched only by the protest ringing through the chamber. But, Axel noted with pleasure, the man most affected—King Chad—stood with his arms crossed, head canted, interest replacing exhaustion in his eyes.
Axel smiled at him, devoid of any of his usual derision. “I think we could work together to achieve great things,” he whispered so only Chad could hear him. “I promise you, listen to me with patience, and you will see that I truly do have a plan to save us all.”
Chad slowly raised his hand and called out, “Quiet.”
It took a moment for the king’s councilors to obey. Perhaps Chad lacked the total command over his subjects that King Thorn enjoyed. It was a possible problem for Axel to bear in mind.
“Avanov, continue,” Chad commanded once silence settled.
Axel bowed, a strategic gesture to show his deference to the Trevenites for their king. He picked up the piece of parchment and faced Jerawin. “Lapis owns substantial amounts of iron ore, does it not?”
Jerawin bristled, making the yellow tattoos on his blue face quiver. “Which, I suppose, you plan to give to Lukan?”
“Quite on the contrary. That is the last thing I intend. For centuries, my family has been using technology from before the Burning to threaten and subjugate the world. Now Lukan plans to escalate that by re-introducing another, even deadlier weapon. Called a rifle, it can kill a man at four hundred p
aces. I think it’s about time the rest of you struck back before that happens, don’t you?” Axel showed the drawing to the crowd and then held it before the camera lens. “And I propose we do it with this.”
“What is that?” Chad leaned in for a better look at the sketch.
“It’s a weapon, made from iron, easily produced in a forge by a skilled blacksmith. In trained hands, it can kill more people, with greater efficiency, than any sword, machete, or crossbow. Our forefathers called them shotguns. They used them mainly for self-defense. The cramped passages and caverns of your mines make it an ideal weapon for countering Lukan’s rifles. And his jaspers.” He rattled the picture. “With these in your hands and using your superior knowledge of the terrain, you can slaughter a guardsman from fifty paces, no matter how much ice crystal the priestess shoves in his face. He’ll be dead before he can even load his rifle.”
King Thorn ran a scarred hand across his face. “So, we are back in the terrible spiral that led to the original Burning? Each nation devising worse weapons than the next.”
Axel snorted. “My friend, we never left that spiral. The only difference was that the rest of you were excluded from the ride. But now the time for that exclusivity is past. Lukan is threatening the world in ways not even our forebears did. They never embedded their people with ice crystal shockers, trackers, and other mind-controls.”
“Still to justify weapons like these rifles and shotguns . . . when will it end?” Chad asked, his face etched with deep sadness.
“When the Dragon is destroyed and we can all live as equals under the sun.” The fervor in King Jerawin’s voice took Axel by surprise.
Axel locked eyes with him. “So, I ask again . . . does Lapis own a substantial quantity of iron ore it would be willing to sacrifice to this cause?”
“Who would make these things? Train our soldiers to use them?” Jerawin prevaricated just as Axel expected. It would take a carefully baited hook to reel in these prehistoric kings.
“Your people would make them. And you would undertake to deliver them to King Chad in the airships you will capture from me. But I will not lie to you, Jerawin. You are a target, and Lukan will do all in his power to shut you down. This war will ultimately spill over your borders.”