The wall reached the tower at the junction with the next section of the hexagonal wall, and they passed a window overlooking the road they’d come in on. She glanced briefly at the distant hills, thick with fruit-bearing trees, then stopped with Sorak, who gestured into a doorless chamber with a long row of simple frame beds and straw mattresses.
“You can have any of these beds. There’s a room through there.” Sorak pointed to a dark opening in the wall. “It is where you can bring water and make water. I will carry cooked food to you, and then the goddess will wish to speak with you.”
Even as Elenai wondered again at the man’s peculiar speech patterns, he turned and started to leave. “Sorak, wait.”
He paused.
“What was that chamber we passed through, with all of the plants and the statues of animals?”
“That is the Erymyran storage section.”
“What does that mean?”
He blinked, as if her meaning wasn’t clear, either.
“Storage for what?” she asked. “Why is everything in there from Erymyr?”
“That is the storage section for Erymyr,” Sorak repeated.
“What’s it for?” Kyrkenall asked.
“For safekeeping after the big storm.”
Apparently there was never going to be an answer from him that didn’t provoke more questions. “What big storm?” Elenai asked.
“There’s a big storm that will be and the goddess makes samples in storage to rebuild after. I was told to bring you food by the goddess as soon as you were here, unless some of you were injured. I should do that.”
And with that said, he departed. Elenai listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps. “Who bothers to say that food is cooked?”
“He sounds kobalin,” Kyrkenall said, “from his name to his speech patterns. It’s the damnedest thing.”
“Do kobalin ever adopt human children?”
He mulled that over for a long moment. “I suppose it’s possible. You’re thinking he was raised away from humans. I get the sense all of these people would sound like that if we spoke to them, though. Our entire escort acted just like him.” Kyrkenall glanced longingly at the dark archway through which water had been promised, then back at the doorway they’d come in through. “I’m going to take a look around.”
Travel worn and weary as she was, Elenai nodded agreement, then comforted herself with a gulp from her waterskin. She replaced it and followed him, speaking quietly. “Maybe this isn’t all just her doing. Maybe this is what the queen’s planning, and this is all the result of the Mage Auxiliary exalts.”
“Whatever it is, it’s impressive and concerning.”
A left turn would have taken them back to the Erymyran section, which is probably why Kyrkenall headed right, past a series of open archways leading to additional empty bedrooms. When they emerged from the tower at last, passing through another arch, the wall funneled them into the next side of the hexagon. Once more they walked through a wide space, looking down from a balcony onto long rows of plants and statues of creatures from the realm of Ekhem. There were marsh grasses and painted figures of gangly sea walkers with their nobbed knees and blue feathers and long necks, a stand of curving palms with drooping saw-edged leaves, and countless bushes and smaller trees festooned with different brilliant flowers.
Elenai leaned against the balcony and stared long and hard at those statues. Even from four stories up their realism astonished her. It seemed as though each feather had been carved with incredible skill and then painted by a greater master than she had ever seen. The thought came to her as she opened her eyes to the inner world, and beheld the magical threads that bound them all in place. “These aren’t statues. Cerai has frozen them.”
Kyrkenall frowned. “They’re not locked in a hearthstone,” he said. He must have been thinking of N’lahr.
“Neither were the people Belahn froze. Sorak said Cerai was making preparations for a storm. If we keep going down this hall, I bet we’d find an area like this from every single realm. The building’s a hexagon, just like the Altenerai table. Five sides, one dedicated to each realm, and then one side for administration. In this case, that includes living quarters.”
Realization had been dawning over Kyrkenall’s features as she spoke. He cursed softly. “But how could a shift storm build up enough power to damage everything beyond a realm’s borders?”
“I don’t know, but these aren’t just creatures from near the borders. It looks like she’s trying to preserve any living thing she can lay hands on.”
“She must be expecting a pretty big storm.” Kyrkenall stepped up beside Elenai and looked down upon the wide, open space, every foot of which was crammed with frozen, lifelike statues, and living plants.
“There aren’t any people,” Elenai remarked.
“I wouldn’t expect her to save people like that. It’d be a little crazy, wouldn’t it?”
“Isn’t this a little crazy?” Elenai encompassed the surrounding walls with a wave of her hand.
“Maybe it’s brilliant,” Kyrkenall countered. “What if she really is trying to help protect and preserve everything?”
“If she wanted to protect and preserve Alantris, she wouldn’t have abandoned it to the Naor. Maybe she doesn’t care about the people, just the creatures. Maybe this is what the queen’s been up to all along. Cerai’s out here keeping tabs on this preservation project because Queen Leonara and the exalts know some deadly storm is coming. One that threatens nearly everything. One that they need the hearthstones to stop.”
Kyrkenall raked back his hair, pensive but silent.
“The queen’s good at keeping secrets far from Darassus. Like N’lahr and his sword,” Elenai prompted.
“First off, that’s not what Leonara told Belahn. He said the queen had shown him a goddess who was going to come and save us all. And I don’t think he was talking about Cerai.”
That was true enough. Elenai remembered the gist of Belahn’s words, and how the hearthstones were a kind of shattered altar to a goddess, whose voice he had heard through the munificence of the queen. But then Belahn had been crazy, driven mad by complete absorption with a hearthstone, his once-powerful frame shrunken to nearly nothing because he had been subsisting solely on the energy he absorbed from the artifact.
“Second,” Kyrkenall continued, “this place doesn’t feel lived-in at all. I get the sense it’s just Cerai here, along with her weird little army. If this really was the queen’s project there’d be some exalts here.”
“Maybe they’re just away. Or maybe they’re all talking with Cerai right now, deciding what to do with us.”
Kyrkenall stilled and eyed her balefully. “You’re getting really good at suggesting the worst.”
“We’re getting really good at finding it.”
He chuckled. “‘Fear not the coming man but news he brings’,” Kyrkenall said, from his staged manner and meter clearly referencing something.
She couldn’t place the quote. “Selana?”
“Tsk tsk. And you the daughter of a Vedessi playhouse manager. That’s by the only great Vedessi playwright, Tolahn. When the prince is waiting for the messenger with news about his father’s army? After he learned about the assassin?”
She flushed a little. Of course. “I’m afraid I was focused on the here and now.”
“My point is that we’re just speculating, but we’re going to know when we talk with Cerai. Soon. And whatever we learn I bet we’re not going to like it.”
“That seems a pretty safe wager.”
“Come on. Let’s go confirm your theory.” He pushed away from the rail and they were starting for the other hall when they heard a footfall behind them.
They turned and saw Sorak walking toward them. The lines upon his brow cleared as he approached.
“Ah! I was confused when you were not in the place I saw you last. The food is waiting for you in the room I left you in.”
“Thanks, Sorak,” Kyrkena
ll said.
“The goddess says to offer apology, but that she has been delayed. She says to make yourselves comfortable and that she can speak to you in the morning.”
“Where is she now?”
“She found an emergency, and had to leave,” Sorak said.
Elenai wasn’t sure what to do with that information, and glanced over to Kyrkenall, who seemed unperturbed. She started to tell Sorak that they really needed to be going, but realized that they and their horses were spent. “I guess it would be nice to grab an actual bath, and sleep in a real bed for a change. But Cerai has to know we’re in a hurry. Can you tell her that?”
“I cannot speak to her until she returns.”
Kyrkenall thumbed over his shoulder. “Say, Sorak, if I keep moving around the building, will I find a bunch of animals and plants and things from Arappa and Kanesh and The Fragments?”
“Yes.”
“That saves me some walking,” Kyrkenall observed quietly to Elenai, then faced Sorak again. “Are there any exalts around here?”
Sorak stared at him, befuddled. “What is an exalt?”
“They wear clothes like us,” Elenai said, “but they have red decorative lines along the seams.”
“And they’re assholes,” Kyrkenall added, which only seemed to confuse Sorak further.
“There aren’t any of those exalts here,” he said at last.
“Have there ever been any here?”
“Not that I have seen.”
“How about the queen?” Kyrkenall asked.
“I have never seen a queen here. Are you hungry? You should come to the food.”
“You know what, Sorak, I think we will. Lead the way.”
Sorak looked pleased, almost smiling before he turned. Kyrkenall and Elenai trailed after.
“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” she asked softly.
“Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I get the sense he’ll tell us the truth about anything we ask.” He raised his voice. “Hey, Sorak!”
Their host stopped and turned to face them.
“The food’s not poisoned with anything, is it?”
Once more the man looked confused, as if he had to process the information. “You are guests,” he said finally. “Under protection. No harm will be given you here.”
“What if we want to leave?”
Sorak frowned. “The goddess said she wished to speak with you. She might be angry if you leave before she speaks with you.”
“I suppose that’s true. Very well.” Kyrkenall gestured for the man to precede him. “Lead on, Sorak! We are in your hands.”
Their repast consisted mostly of fruits and vegetables, though there was a spread prepared from some mix of mashed lentils. There was sunberry juice rather than wine, which proved a little cloying. Best of all were the long slim loafs of bread, perfectly baked and quite flavorful, crisp on the outside and soft in the middle.
By the time they’d finished, sunlight was sinking below the tree-clad hills. Elenai was surprised by that, because some little fragments like this didn’t have any sun at all, much less one that set, but this sun looked and behaved very much like the one she saw in the realms.
After the meal, Kyrkenall availed himself of the baths, expressing delight that there was a pump that brought water.
Though the water proved ice cold, Elenai immersed herself in it once Kyrkenall had left. She hadn’t felt so clean since they’d departed Vedessus
There were towels and soap as well, and even fresh undergarments, though they proved a little large. Both she and Kyrkenall scrubbed out most of their dirty clothing and hung it to dry. They’d packed light, and even her third shirt had seen use after so many days.
Kyrkenall spoke softly as he spread out the sheets Sorak brought them. “In the morning, if this takes too long, we may need to start improvising.”
“Should we take watches?”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Given her resources, if Cerai wanted to cause us trouble, I think she’d already have done it. Let’s get a full night’s sleep for once, and see what the morning brings.”
The morning brought a ko’aye.
28
An Unexpected Guest
Elenai woke to a hand on her shoulder, in the still hours before sunrise.
“You’re not having an important dream, are you?” Kyrkenall asked softly.
“It would be a little late now if I was,” she said, a little dazed. “But no, still none. What’s going on?”
“Time for a little stroll. Shall we?”
The man’s energy levels were mythic. She wanted to tell him to go back to bed, but she rose, trying not to grumble. No matter the speed with which she dressed, Kyrkenall paced back and forth along the aisleway, clearly impatient to be on his way.
“I think I heard a ko’aye,” he said, although from his manner he might as well have told her to hurry.
Elenai was still struggling into her boots. For some reason the soft bed seemed to have made things worse, for she was suddenly aware of aches and pains she hadn’t noticed when she’d wakened from sleeping on the ground. “Ko’aye?”
“I heard a couple of calls. You slept right through it.”
“Do you ever sleep?” She sighed.
But in another moment she was standing and buckling on her sword belt.
“Will your ring on,” he said quietly, “but set the light so it won’t shine.”
“All right.” During one of their overnights he’d finally gotten around to explaining how to use the ring that way, admitting that it had taken him a few years to remember when to use it to his advantage.
A ghostly sliver of moonlight shone through the open window and illuminated the lithe archer as he crept to the doorway. He paused briefly, then moved through, and she just caught him waving her on to follow.
Halfway expecting that they’d encounter Sorak or one of his similar fellows, she used the power of the ring to sense the way before them, and discovered that they were alone in the hallway.
Moving quickly but quietly, Kyrkenall led them into the dark stairwell. Here he paused briefly, and Elenai checked with her ring herself, thinking he must be doing the same, and found nothing. Useful though it might be, the ring didn’t have a particularly long range. If someone were trailing them twenty-five paces back, they’d not know it. She wondered why she wasn’t sensing the threads of possibility that had earned her the Oddsbreaker moniker, and decided it must be because she wasn’t in any immediate danger. That seemed to be the only time she grew aware of branching futures, although it wasn’t entirely dependable even in those circumstances.
Kyrkenall headed upstairs rather than down, looking back only when Elenai inadvertently scuffed the toe of her boot on one of the steps. He paused long enough that she imagined him glaring, and then they arrived at the upper landing.
Here there was a door, and Kyrkenall briefly activated his ring at low strength, playing the blue light over the surface. They discovered it of solid wood similar to oak, and still smelling of the dark stain it had been treated with. The archer quietly slipped the thick bar aside, dimmed his light, and ever-so-carefully opened the door.
She wished to ask why they’d come this way, but given the measures he’d taken to remain quiet she reluctantly followed suit.
After the profound darkness of the stairwell, the moonlight upon the battlement left her feeling exposed. Kyrkenall waited on the threshold, scanning the area, hesitating only briefly as he looked overhead. Then he advanced.
She crept after. The battlement proved almost as wide as the hallways below, with a chest-high wall on the inner side, and crenelated battlement on the outer. Four warriors might easily have walked abreast. Kyrkenall seemed determined to remain on point, and so she followed, senses extended through her ring, her view alternating to left and right, and straight ahead, where the tip of Kyrkenall’s great bow, Arzhun, curved out past its shoulder holster and higher than his head.
>
All was quiet but a cool breeze that rattled the trees on nearby hilltops, bringing with it the sweet scent of sunberries. It was only after they advanced a few paces farther that Elenai thought to look up, and realized what had caught her companion’s attention when he first emerged.
In her nighttime travels through the realms and shifts, she had seen the moon high, low, in different phases, and entirely absent, and sometimes strangely twisted. Never had she seen it twinned. Here in this strange fragment the silver moon was low upon the horizon and mostly full. Higher and more distant, a second moon hung, waning and red, with a slim gold ring. A strange and beautiful sight.
They walked fifteen paces before she sensed something ahead. Kyrkenall had already slowed. Without looking back to her, he’d raised a warning hand even as he quietly slipped Arzhun from his holster and nocked an arrow.
Elenai reached forth with the ring and sensed … something. Life was there, yes. But it seemed somehow wrong. It was, she realized, like that restraint cast about the life-forms in Cerai’s holding areas.
In only a few more paces, she saw a creature crouched in the midst of the battlement. Kyrkenall advanced upon it, bow ready, though the string wasn’t taut.
As they drew closer, the creature seemed uninclined to move. Elenai suspected that it couldn’t.
“Here’s the ko’aye,” Kyrkenall said quietly as he drew up beside it.
“It’s frozen,” Elenai told him.
She saw Kyrkenall look to right and left, and then he knelt, activating his ring light.
Its glow reflected eerily from two black eyes shining only a handspan above the floor. The ko’aye’s body seemed a hunched mass from which clawed feet were thrust, and it took a moment for her to understand what she took as a misshapen cloak on its back were two wings folded in upon themselves, partly hiding a saddle. The head perched atop its long neck was narrow, somewhere between that of a bird’s and a lizard’s, with projecting beak.
Upon the Flight of the Queen Page 42