Janus finished his snack and tossed the stick into a bucket of saltwater, waiting for Kardak to tear himself away from lecturing the fisherman whose whole body was now tilted away from him, gradually increasing the distance between them even as the rift warden leant over the cart, gesturing wildly with his hands. The chimes sang out as a strong gust whipped at Janus’ hair and he retreated into his coat, seeking warmth. The sea seemed to be attempting it too, surging against the pier like it might escape onto dry land.
In the hypnotic swell of the waves Janus spied a large spot of colour and he blinked. Nothing but grey ocean for miles. Walking towards it, suddenly ignorant to the cold, he stared into the churning water, but all he could see was churning froth. His brain tried to tell him it was just his frayed nerves. He hadn’t been quite right since Rook had left and taken The Rook with her, leaving him bereft of its comforting touch on the back of his mind. Now only a haze filled the gap left behind, his senses dulled beyond the ordinary.
But Janus knew better than to trust that voice. Out there he had seen something. Or perhaps the better way to phrase it was that something was trying to be seen by him. He couldn’t sense it the way Rook could have, but he had honed his instincts over the years and learned to trust them, if nothing else.
“Janus-wei?”
Janus turned.
“Are you ready to go?”
He nodded.
“Where are we going to now?” said Kardak, clambering into the carriage.
“Into the city. I wish to visit the library to do some research. On the way we will stop by an old friend of ours, who runs a small church nearby. There are so few Illuminated churches left, it saddens me.”
“Are you all followers of Illumination?” said Kardak, peering out the window at the disappearing coastline as they trundled down the wide main street towards the denser network of buildings that made up Yuratsa. The unique turrets and towers were all the more stark for the marble sky beyond, preparing itself for the first strike of the brewing storm.
“Yes. My sisters and I were raised on its teachings, as we will continue to teach each generation of new girls.”
“I never really understood it. Why is it only girls that you take in at the shrine? Has there never been men in your monastery?”
Hika leant back, a small smile on her lips. “There has never been a man amongst our ranks. Tell me, Kardak-wei, are you a follower of any religion?”
“I was raised Zorashiran.”
She nodded, as if she had expected this. “It was adapted from Illumination, you know. So I’m sure you are aware of the figure of Lai Kusok.”
“The sun king.”
Janus watched Hika’s smile bloom. “As you know him, yes. But the original tale bears a different translation. For there was never a sun king at all. In fact, she was the sun queen. She was such an important figure in fighting off the darkness at the end of the world that the rift maidens were created in her honour, to carry on her legacy.”
Kardak frowned. “I have never heard of a sun queen.”
“That is the story you have been told. As I have mine. Who is to say which is right?”
If they had asked Janus, he might have speculated there had been neither a king nor a queen, the whole tale nothing but the spinning of a monk with ink and an active imagination. But they did not ask his opinion so he kept it to himself. The ache in his skull was building, growing into a throb that became more and more difficult to ignore. Somewhere out there Rook was travelling home, taking The Rook further from him.
Janus had made a promise to be its servant. What good was a servant who could not meet its master’s needs? Not living up to a pact with a riftspawn made him anxious, tapping his fingers against the glass of the carriage window, waiting for the rain to start. It would not be long now. He could smell it in the air.
“We are nearly here,” said Hika, peering out the other side. “In good time, I hope. I fear we are due another storm.”
“At least there’s no snow yet. In Lyrshok it snows this time of year.”
Janus shuddered, reminded of why he was glad he had not followed The Rook all the way there. He was fine. This was fine. It wasn’t like he was truly bound; he wasn’t about to die just because he wasn’t following the creature’s every whims. Rook had let him go and now he had to find what he could be on his own, without the three of them to leech from. Janus had to unlock the doors to his past and future, but he had long thrown away the key, and he didn’t think he had the strength to break through on his own.
“I like the snow. It’s quite beautiful, I think,” he heard her say.
“Indeed. It can transform a place quite completely,” replied Kardak.
Things did not look the same in the snow. It was all a lie as far as Janus was concerned. For everything was still there, simply hidden beneath a layer of pure, blinding white, as if the low season could cover up the true colours of the world. But it never lasted long. Then the spring thawed it into muddy slush and sleet. Then the true face of the world was revealed, for its harsh beauty and ugly truth. A pretty lie never lasted long.
“This city is so charming in the low season. They hang up lovely coloured lights and musicians play shows at night. There are usually fights over duties during the peak of it.”
“I would very much like to see it but I do not think we can afford to wait around until then.”
“Of course.”
The carriage rumbled to a stop on a small street lined with shops, above which the buildings twisted and swirled into the sky, a strange mishmash of disjointed pieces, turrets and towers and horned roofs. At the end of the street a round building rested, decorated with arches that met at a point in the centre, where a strange petal-shaped concoction erupted from a bulging dome. It cast a shadow across the carriage, deepening the lines on their faces. At that moment, the first patter of rain sounded above, spotting the window with tears as the sky began to weep. Soon the wailing wind joined in, mourning the death of the mild temperatures of the high season.
Hika glanced from Janus to Kardak and back again, not shifting from her seat. When neither of them made a move, she sighed and pulled up the hood of her coat, nose peeking out from the furry lining. “It is just a little rain. Come on, we should hurry.”
Nearest to the door, Janus opened it only for it to fly from his grip and bang against the carriage, rattling them inside. The laisok cried out, pawing at the ground. The driver at the front tried to calm it, stroking its head as she murmured soothing words into its ear. Staring out at the bleak haze of crashing water, Janus glanced back into the dry nest of the carriage to where Hika still sat.
“Go,” she gestured. “We will make this quick.”
Almost as soon as he stepped out he was soaked. Water seeped through the thin layer of his clothes, cooling his skin beneath. It ran from his scalp, down his face, dripping onto his shoulders and beneath the collar of a shirt already sticking to his torso. Grumbling, he darted towards the overhang of a nearby shopfront, boots splashing in the puddles forming in the uneven ground. He shook himself out, a shivering, miserable mess watching the rain thunder against the ground with enough force he was surprised it did not cave in.
Hika climbed down from the carriage, hiked up her skirts, and jogged towards him with her hood bouncing over her face. Another Hika ran at the same pace below her feet, form unrestrained by the same boundaries as the solid person above, disintegrating with each splash of her boots in the puddles. Her emerald green kobi shone vibrantly against the grey backdrop of a rainy city, reminding Janus of the flash of colour in the ocean. Of riftspawn, too bright and too colourful to be real in their dull, drab world.
Panting, Hika grabbed hold of his arm as she folded over. “You – could have – waited.” Her coat dripped with water, surrounding her in a wet circle against the thin scrap of dry land beneath their makeshift shelter. Any time the wind changed direction he was smacked in the face with frigid rainwater.
“Could have,” h
e conceded.
Kardak dashed through the rain, his satchel bouncing against his side. Bowling into Hika, the two of them tumbled into a heap at Janus’ feet, Kardak sprawled out on the ground, glasses opaque with fog. Janus tilted his head at the two of them as they squabbled and disentangled, Hika climbing to her feet with a glare. “Don’t even bother to help, then,” she said.
But Janus wasn’t listening. He was too busy staring out into the rain, where glowing beads of colour – pinks and reds and yellows – burst into the grey canvas of the city. They burned brighter and brighter, shining like hundreds of eyes all around him, forms retracting and expanding with the same breath in his lungs. Without realising, he stumbled out into the rain, pinpricks stinging the bare skin of his face. It hammered against his skull, filling his ears with the crash and roar of the rain, but Janus couldn’t feel anything except for his own heartbeat thumping in his chest.
The shapes flitted around him, streaks of colour bleeding into the city itself. Suddenly a lamppost glowed a bright red, the pool at his feet shining like blood. The light flickered on and off, startling him, and he pulled out his gun, trying to figure out where to aim it. He swiped the rain from his eyes and blinked, sure he wasn’t seeing things right. That he had gone feverish from the weather.
Because the lamp was melting before his eyes, metal warping and bending out of shape, until it weaved around him, dripping crimson drops from above. Janus swore, eyes trying to follow its movements until he was stumbling over his own feet in a circle. He fired a shot that went too wide, the sound muffled by the downpour. It continued to thunder down against the ground, pummelling him where he stood.
“Janus!”
Blinking through the cloud of rain, Janus saw another figure. When two bright spots of azure blue shone through the haze, he realised it was Kardak jumping into the fray. Something inside recognised the creature within him, repulsed, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the echo of The Rook in his head.
A piece of building crashed down between them, both rolling out of the way just in time. Grunting as the air was thrust from his lungs, Janus spun back onto his feet, dripping icy cold water, and ran. The riftspawn were in the buildings, warping and destroying their structure. Everything around them had become a source of danger, even more so than the riftspawn themselves.
A flicker of movement caught his eye and Janus lunged, snatching Kardak to him just as another piece of the roof tumbled to the ground, splashing up a wave of water. He heard Kardak gasp in his arms and wheel around, pushing up rain splattered glasses.
“Are you a rift warden?”
Janus shook his head. “Not anything.”
Then he aimed and shot at a swooping green shape in the sky, hitting the riftspawn square in the centre. It shrieked, a sound that heightened the howling wind, and faded in a smattering of green sparks. Beside him he saw Kardak pull out his own gun and raised his brows in surprise. Kardak grinned at him. “We’re not all old fashioned, you know.”
Janus swept back his soaking hair and snorted, eyes peeled on the unfolding chaos around them. There was no way to contain so many riftspawn; it was probably dangerous to even be standing there out in the open, in case any of the errant spirits were tempted to try his body out as an easy vessel. Every drop of rain, every gust of wind, only contaminated senses already wound so tight with tension. If something sneaked up on him here, he was gone.
Janus could accept many things but he did not want to become a puppet for one of those things, for however long his body held out.
“Janus! Kardak!”
With the thundering downpour it took him a moment to work out where the voice was coming from. Then he saw a glimmer of green silk through the rain where Hika waved at them and pointed. “The church!” he managed to catch, the rest of her words stolen by the roaring in his ears. He had no idea how the church was supposed to be safe when nothing else was but he had little else to go on, so he moved carefully towards it.
The rain was so loud he almost didn’t realise the crackling in his skull was growing. Somewhere, on her way to Lyrshok, Rook probably knew that he was in danger. Janus ignored the thought, ducking out of the way of a gargoyle that leapt from the roof above, the stone glowing faintly as it flew across the street and crashed into the shopfront opposite, glass shattering in shards that caught the red light still swinging around in circles. Bright sparks of colour had him turning every which way, gut clenching as a carriage began to float through the air, reins dangling from where a laisok should have been. The pieces of glass rose in a flash of pink and circled around it, spinning faster and faster until a glowing ring formed. Sucking the rain into its vortex, it took the shape of a funnel, the carriage melting into the cyclone until it was taking up half of the street.
Abandoning caution, Janus took off in a run for the church at the end of the street, feet splashing in the river of water running down the road. His whole body was numb with the cold, coat sticking to his body and heavy with water weighing it down. Ahead of him he could see the great arching door, ducking his head and aiming for it. Reflected in the sheen of the road the colours burst and exploded like vibrant stars against a night sky. Only much, much more dangerous. It was as Rook had said. They would change the world until the rules that governed it no longer existed. Until the world was no longer recognisable for what it was.
The church was so close – close enough he could see the lights shining from the windows reflecting in the rain-slick street – but just as he thought he was about to make it all the rain suddenly stopped. Janus skidded to a halt, kicking up a wave of water, stunned by the drops suspended in the air. Reaching out, he touched one only for it to burst over his hand, just ordinary water running down his arm. But when he looked around him, the drops began to glow with a strange yellow light in the centre, growing stronger and stronger until he was surrounded by thousands of tiny orbs hanging in the air. The sky rumbled overhead, ground shaking below his feet, and Janus braced himself for the impact.
The lightning was so bright it blinded him, whiting out his vision, and all he could do was dive out of its blast with nothing but a prayer to chance that he might survive. Rolling in the lake forming in the street, he landed on his haunches as the strange yellow lightning struck the ground and sparked outwards, hitting each of the raindrops in the air. Yellow strings of light connected each of them together like globules of water caught on a spider’s web, weaving into a network of colourful light that buzzed and hummed around him. The light shone brighter again, enough to hurt but not to blind, and he gazed through the net of his fingers to see some of the drops knit together, becoming larger flaming balls of light bobbing in the sky.
Fingers made of water reached out to try and grab them, lit from within with the same shade of yellow. Janus danced out of their way, tripping over himself to avoid the grasping hands swiping at the balls of light, some melting together until he had difficulty telling apart the ground from the air around it. Confused, he took a cautious step, wincing as his foot sunk into a liquid as viscous as treacle, and had to wrench it out from its latching grip on his way to the church.
His hand had just wrapped around the door handle when a series of shouts froze him, seconds from sanctuary. For a moment he contemplated ignoring it and saving himself. There was no survival by turning back. But as he had the thought, another joined it, of facing Rook, Kilai, and Viktor with the knowledge that he had just left someone to suffer. He remembered the times he had turned his back before, shut off his feelings, and told himself that was just the way of the world. That it was cruel and merciless and he could only ever think of himself.
But that was only truth if Janus accept it as such. It hit him with such a startling clarity he had to wonder if this was how the devout felt when they were struck with their faith.
So Janus turned around and dove back into the fray, running so fast the liquid could not get a proper hold on him. At least now he no longer had to fight the rain, even if he had to duck and sw
erve the glowing orbs, like thousands of huge firebugs out of season. If he looked too closely at them they looked like they were watching him, blinking their eyes in the gloom of a stormy sky.
“Janus!” gasped Kardak, already half submerged in the fiery liquid. The more he struggled the more he sank, arms flailing. It shouldn’t have been possible – there had only been a thin layer of rainwater – but somehow it had become a river. A river straight out of the depths of the Locker itself.
Grabbing his hand, Janus grunted as he tugged, feeling the water latch around his ankles and begin to pull him down. He yanked his feet out one at a time, never letting them settle for too long, and continued to heave, straining with the effort.
“Need to use your bond!”
“I’m trying,” Kardak gasped, “but it’s overpowering me!”
“Fight! Fight it!”
Janus kicked at the claws of the liquid trying to drag him down and wrangled his gun from its holster, nearly overbalancing with the effort. Aiming at the water swirling around Kardak, he was about to squeeze the trigger when the man yelled, “What are you doing? You’re going to hit me!”
That was a chance he was going to have to take. “Focus on the bond!”
A flicker of blue light shone in Kardak’s eyes and he pushed it down into the liquid around him, the colour unfurling like ink in water. Seizing the opportunity, Janus fired at the liquid rising up to meet him, the colour draining away from the point of impact until, for a beat, only water swirled around them. On reflex Janus grabbed at Kardak and prised him out of the substance before hauling him over his shoulder, breaking into a run before the riftspawn’s power could return. One shot would not be enough to kill it but that wasn’t his aim. Right now all that mattered was survival.
In his ear Kardak groaned, head lolling against his shoulder. Janus struggled under his weight but pushed through it, dashing for the church with the hands of the liquid tugging him down like Var Kunir himself was trying to drag him beneath the depths. But Janus wasn’t ready for eternal damnation; not before he had fulfilled a few promises. So he ran and he fought and he pushed through the pain, crashing into the door so hard the air was expelled from his lungs all at once, Kardak sliding down his back. In one awkward motion, he flung open the doors and the two of them tumbled inside, into a blessed, peaceful sanctuary.
The Rising Tide Page 16