Taellaneth Complete Series Box Set

by Vanessa Nelson

  “No Erith would set that aside,” she said. “Even if it was not used in a long time.”

  “Human magic users don’t use them, though. And he was pretending to be human.”

  Arrow took the blade from him with her gloved hands, opening her second sight. The spells were simple, drawn with crude, effective lines. Most kri-syang were the same. The blades were bonded to the mages early in training, before the mages were skilled.

  “Would you know him if you met him?”

  “He is dead,” Arrow answered automatically, then checked herself. “Of course. He is Erith. Or, at least, mostly Erith.” She tilted her head, considering the spellwork in the blade. “I should know him again. But two hundred years is a long time. Mage power can change over time. I would need to study the stones further.”

  Zachary accepted that with a brief nod, eyes travelling around the room, taking all the evidence of the human who had founded the order. All of it set against the slender silver blade. “I don’t rule out that he’s still alive. Perhaps he can tell us what in hells the sculptures are for.”

  “You suspect a bad purpose?” Arrow was curious. The spell in the stone had not seemed evil. It just was.

  “Two hundred years ago we were all trying to kill each other,” Zachary told her, teeth bared in a silent snarl. “I don’t trust any magic from that time.”

  Two hundred years. It was easy to forget, sometimes, just how old the Prime was. And how long-lived races such as the ‘kin and Erith viewed their history. Two hundred years in human terms was several generations, facts distorted through retelling. It was living memory for shifkin and Erith, the facts held in memories accustomed to gathering vast amounts of experience.

  Her curiosity spiked, wondering where the Prime had been and what he had been doing two hundred years ago. Not the Prime then, but not far from it. He had probably been on a battlefield somewhere, disputing borders with the Erith.

  The shadow across his face did not encourage questions, so she set hers aside and turned back to the life of Oliver Anderson.

  The box contained other items a human should not own, too. The brocade fabric could pass for human, but on close inspection was too fine to be of human make. There was a small pottery jar of what seemed to be White Guard salve, or something close to it. And a scrap of parchment with bold marks made from what looked like blood, carefully preserved by the museum’s curators between sheets of tissue paper, with a notation in common tongue that it was of “unknown language”. Not unknown. Any Erith could have told the humans that. They were Erith runes for spell working.

  Not unclean magic. Like the spell in the stone, there was nothing illegal about the runes, despite being drawn in blood. And yet her skin prickled with unease. The last Erith she had encountered who had recruited humans had been a meld of Erith and surjusi, intent on destruction, narrowly defeated in the great hall of the Taellaneth, a trail of death behind him. That Erith, Nuallan, brother to the Erith Academy’s Preceptor, had used obviously unclean magic with ruthless determination and skill honed over decades of practice.

  She looked down at the runes and did not see a great deal of skill in their lines. The rune looked like part of a spell for silence, and there was no good reason she could think of to draw such a spell in blood.

  Ice trickled down her back again. This particular rune might not have required much skill to draw, but the magic bound into the stone sculpture was another matter altogether. It took time and patience to learn how to bind magic into objects in that way.

  ~

  She was telling Zachary her conclusions, low-voiced to avoid the humans overhearing them, when Zachary’s people returned from their search. One look at their faces and she knew the hunt had been unsuccessful.

  Con and Rose made the report, Will and Paul looking around the room with unabashed curiosity. They had searched the warrens end to end, and then gone back again. They could trace the gunman only so far before the scent was lost. There were tricks to fool a hunter tracking by scent, and with the odours in the warrens the trail had been difficult enough to start with.

  Reporting failure was not something any of them enjoyed. Arrow stayed quiet and still whilst they spoke, seeing the tension in their shoulders and faces, the unhappy tilt to their mouths. Shifkin were supreme predators, in whatever skin they wore, and did not take defeat easily.

  Zachary accepted the report with a single nod and brief thanks. Whatever else the ‘kin saw from their leader seemed to be enough. Shoulders relaxed and the tight expressions eased.

  The Prime summoned the human curators, ordered the entire room sealed and preserved, and then decreed that his group were leaving, requiring rest.

  There were still a few boxes to be reviewed, but Arrow took his cue, putting away all the objects they had been looking at and, almost as an afterthought, burying the box of interest under several others, Will helping her to move the boxes around.

  ~

  They all returned to the apartment, the four ‘kin making a thorough check of the rooms before letting Arrow in. She did not stay there for long, though.

  The Prime’s idea of rest seemed to be sitting on the rooftop of the apartment building, in the midst of an elaborate garden, with a large bottle of what Arrow assumed was beer, and several boxes of takeaway pizza. He had invited Arrow to join him. She had borrowed a blanket from the apartment before doing so. Even though the days were getting warmer, the night air was cold, the last lingering bite of winter still in the air.

  It was oddly hushed on the rooftop. The city sounds were muted by the height from the ground, and the dense foliage which absorbed sound and gave back the welcome scent of green. Not as fresh as at the Sanctuary, but enough to take away the acrid scent of traffic fumes. The building was not the tallest in the city by a long way, the higher stories were far enough away that this garden was private at night, with only the faintest lights at floor level by the door, showing the way back inside.

  She ate her share of the pizza, waiting for Zachary to decide when to speak. The others were in the apartment below, windows shut, out of earshot even for ‘kin. All the same, Arrow dipped her finger into the glass of water she had brought with her and drew a rune for confusion on the artificial grass under them. Whatever the Prime wanted to discuss, he wanted to keep it private.

  Normally, she would wait for him to speak. But even with the blanket, the ground underneath was cold, her fingers and nose going numb, and it had been a long day.

  “You were angry earlier. And not about the sculptures or the break-ins,” she said, watching his face. There had been enough in the day to justify some of his sombre expression, but he was used to dealing with difficult things. Something else was bothering him.

  His expression lifted into genuine humour, power in his eyes flaring a moment. “I keep forgetting how observant you are.”

  Arrow absorbed that for a moment, turning it over in her mind. It felt like a compliment, which was a rare thing. And yet she did not think she had done anything special.

  “Have you been following the human news?” The question was almost casual. She knew Zachary well enough to know that the tone was simply a misdirection, turning over recent news stories in her mind, trying to work out what, besides the break-ins, would have caught his attention.

  “Some of it. Some of it I do not understand at all. Why would anyone wish to make a news article about a sports person’s hair?”

  Zachary laughed. “Why, indeed.”

  “There seems to be a great deal of arguing about a lot of things,” Arrow said, “but I do not know if that is normal.”

  The news reports she had read, in human-made newspapers, and listened to, on the small radio in the kitchen at the workspace, were full of arguments between what she thought of as different human Houses. Like Erith Houses, members of these human Houses were not necessarily linked by blood. Unlike Erith Houses, they were gathered by ideology and not by family ties. Some humans seemed to change Houses on a whim, too, ap
parently changing their ideology, which was extremely rare among the Erith. There were also only a handful of human Houses, unlike the dozens among the Erith. Arrow found the arguments fascinating not least because the humans appeared to confine themselves to arguing with words and not with combat.

  “They are arguing a lot about the Erith just now. That is unusual,” Zachary commented.

  “They seem to believe that the Erith have over-stepped their permissions.” Arrow nodded. That had been very clear. She found the idea quite amusing. “The Erith would say that it is humans who have over-stepped. The Erith and ‘kin gifted the lands to the humans, after all.”

  “A long time ago, in human terms. Several generations.”

  Arrow straightened, a trickle of apprehension down her spine, thoughts turning back to the museum’s items. Items from two hundred years ago, preserved and still crackling with age. Human generations were short compared to Erith and shifkin. And human memories did not appear to be passed through the generations in the same way as with the Erith, at least.

  “And some are also unhappy with the ‘kin,” she said slowly.

  “A much more recent issue.” His long breath out clouded in the air for a moment. Frustration. And worry. The Prime cared for his people.

  “The treaty.” The hard-won pact between the three primary races, made before Arrow was born. Engineered by the Erith Queen, now dead, the shifkin Prime who sat in front of her, and a previous human Premier, now also dead, from old age. The apprehension spread through her body. She had been focused on threats from surjusi, the possibility of Erith infighting as they tried to determine who would be their next monarch. She had not considered that humans might take up arms or act against the Erith.

  “The treaty,” Zachary repeated, voice heavy. “Humans understand that it was a personal agreement with Freyella. They know she’s dead.”

  Arrow had been at the Palace when she died, the death of the Erith Queen sending a shock wave through the heartland, the wordless scream of grief and rage of the heartland still echoing through her when she thought of it. The Erith were still in mourning. According to Kester, the heartland was restless, the Taellan worried and, typical of them, trying to maintain a calm front.

  “The humans want to renegotiate,” Arrow said through stiff lips.

  “And believe they are in a strong position to do so.” Zachary’s lip curled in disgust.

  “And the Collegia wants a part of it, too,” Arrow guessed. The Collegia’s Magister was on the news often, solemn-faced and evenly-spoken, putting his points across in measured language that nonetheless made Arrow uneasy. He might appear a genial figure, yet something about him made her skin crawl.

  Zachary nodded, movement caught by the faint light from streetlights far below, the artificial haze of Lix’ night-scape stretching out far around them. Arrow remembered another conversation on another roof, with the stars of the Erith heartland above her and the sleeping power of the Erith’s heartland all around her. She shivered.

  “The Erith will crush them.”

  “Humans think their weapons will prevail.”

  “Weapons.” Arrow shoved her hands into her hair, elbows on her knees. She wanted to get up and pace, holding herself still with effort, the pizza curdling in her stomach. “Have humans forgotten what the Erith are capable of?”

  She did not really expect an answer. In human terms it had been at least two generations since the last conflict with the Erith. The humans currently alive had almost all grown up with the peace treaty, without the reality of warfare. Her feet twitched in her human-made boots, the impulse to move growing again. The workspace was ruined. For now. And she had a fully packed bag, ready to travel. Maps she had spent hours poring over. A planned route of exploration, money in the bank, and an urge to be gone. To be away from whatever bloodshed was coming. There had been too much blood shed around her. Too much death. Too many difficult things dealt with. She wanted peace.

  Following the trail of break-ins had been a welcome distraction during the day but now she faced another night in a new place that did not sit well around her and realised she had nowhere to go back to that she considered safe or hers. Exiled from the Erith, and homeless among the humans and ‘kin.

  And the shifkin’s Prime was here, with another burden. Not for one moment did she think he was simply here to tell her. He had a plan. Zachary Farraway had not become his nation’s leader, and held that position for so long, without being able to see ahead.

  “What do you propose?” She shifted position to look directly at him, silver power brilliant in her eyes. “The shifkin nation could simply withdraw. Let the Erith and humans fight among themselves.” Even as she said that, she knew that Zachary would not permit that. Shifkin were scattered throughout the human world, as well as within their own territories.

  “We live in the human world, too,” Zachary said, echoing her thoughts. “Many of my people have family in the human world. People we care about. We have humans within our borders. We cannot ignore this.”

  She held the glass of water between her hands, forcing herself to be still, wishing it was hot chocolate, the chill of the glass warming under her palms, drawing warmth from her when she was already chilled.

  “The ‘kin will not go to war with the Erith,” she said, quite certain. “Not unless the Erith bring war to the ‘kin.”

  “War would destroy my people. And the Erith. Our weapons technologies have advanced too far since the last conflicts. And our training and understanding of each other. There would be nothing left but the cockroaches,” Zachary said, attempt at humour falling flat. Arrow’s mouth twitched, acknowledging the reference. It was legend amongst humans that at the end of time, when everything else was desolate, there would still be cockroaches. What else would be there varied depending on what was being discussed.

  “So what do you propose? And how does it involve me?”

  Zachary’s bleak expression vanished into another smile, teeth showing for a moment, bright in the poor light.

  “Clever.”

  “We would not be speaking here if I had no part in your plan.”

  He laughed, warm sound coiling through the air, chasing away some of Arrow’s chill. Her shoulders eased and she took a sip of the water, clear and pure, before setting it aside.

  “I propose a summit. A meeting of the Erith, the humans and the ‘kin. In human territory. To affirm the treaty.”

  “Clever,” Arrow said in her turn, mind turning over the possibilities. Human territory would infuriate the Erith, but comfort the humans. Shifkin would be pleased not to have the Erith on their ground. The Erith would reconcile themselves to the venue as they would not have outsiders on their lands. Proposing an affirmation of the treaty would draw the Erith in but give the humans the opportunity of making their arguments in person.

  “It’s either a good idea or a terrible one.” The humour was better this time. “I want you to work with Matt and Tamara on security. Perimeter wards. That kind of thing. A lot of people will want to disrupt it.”

  So that was what Matthias had been working on, Arrow realised. With Tamara. Perhaps the most important assignment of their careers. Hopefully one that would not involve too many actual bullets, which was helpful with Tamara expecting their first child soon. Matthias was extremely protective of his mate at the best of times.

  “Alright.” Arrow heard the agreement before her mind quite caught up with what he was asking. Defensive wards were something she could prepare almost in her sleep, the training deeply ingrained. And the shifkin paid well. Thanks to the ‘kin she had both a bank account, in her name and for her own use, and what was, in human terms, a very large sum of money resting there. However, the humans had a saying that it was impossible to have too much money. And although Arrow had planned to travel using public transport, it would be far more convenient to rent or even buy her own vehicle. Another job for the ‘kin would put that comfortably within reach and leave her enough to travel in comf
ort. She bit her lip against a smile at the direction of her thoughts. A few months before and her only wish had been freedom. Now she had her freedom from the Erith and her list of wants was growing, not shrinking.

  “Good.” Zachary’s mouth twitched, glint in his eyes making Arrow immediately wary. The Prime had a strong sense of mischief. “Matt and Tamara will expect you tomorrow morning. Here’s the address.” He produced a glossy leaflet from one of his pockets, shiny surface crumpled from being confined. A single sheet of human-made paper folded over. Arrow was familiar with the concept, having collected several such leaflets along with her maps. Humans used them as lures, as far as she could tell, to draw people towards interesting sights.

  She took the leaflet and felt her eyebrows lift.

  “The Crossings Abbey? Really?”

  Even as she expressed her disbelief, she realised there was nowhere else the summit could be held. The Abbey was a quadrangle of large human-built buildings set in a private estate, the lands vast by human standards, with high stone walls and already impressive wards built into its perimeter.

  In the confusing way that humans had of naming their buildings, Arrow knew that the building was not and never had been an abbey, which was some kind of human religious building. Instead it had been conceived of and built as a private residence for a wealthy human family at a time when there was not such a large population of humans, and space was not as restricted as it was now. Despite pressure on land, the Crossings Abbey still held its grounds, almost as large as the Taellaneth’s grounds, including a full-sized working farm that provided a lot of fresh produce for the Abbey. No longer a private home, it was now the most expensive hotel in the human lands and exclusively human.

  Set apart from the human, ‘kin and Erith populations. Large enough to host three delegations, plus their security and retainers. Relatively easy to guard with a defined perimeter. It was the most obvious place to host such an event.

  And as soon as the summit became public knowledge, it would not take long for the location to be guessed.