‘I can manage. Leave me alone.’
Sohul frowned, then nodded and closed the door. Corthie got up onto his hands and knees, and began picking up the broken pieces of the jug, placing the fragments into a wooden bin by the galley stove. After that, he grimaced, and cleaned up the cigarette butts, his fingers slick with ash and water. He felt his gorge rise again from the stench of smoke and vomit, but held it in, his body moving automatically while his mind retreated. When he had finished, he placed both hands onto the edge of the table and got to his feet. He leaned against the table for a moment, then staggered over to the door leading to the outside deck. He climbed the narrow stairs, taking them one slow step at a time, then emerged into the brilliant sunshine of Kin Dai.
The river boat was tied up by a pier jutting out into the great estuary that ran through the centre of the city. Hundreds of other vessels were also berthed along the shore, so many, that Naxor had informed them that about a quarter of the city’s population lived aboard a boat of some kind. The sound of the gulls overhead mixed with the noise coming from the bustling wharves, where people were moving through the wide fish markets that ran along the river front. The smells were over-powering, but were better than the stench below deck. Corthie sat on the top step of the stairs, heeding the warning to keep his height inconspicuous, and watched the life of the city go past. Wooden piers stretched through the brown river water like a spider’s web, and small barges were being punted along the tight lanes that wound their way between the thick rows of houseboats. Naxor had bought the boat where they were living with the last of their money. It had been leaky and falling apart when they had first moved in, but Sohul and Van had worked for days to turn it into somewhere inhabitable, even comfortable.
Free from the stomach cramps, Corthie’s mind began to wander as if it were a beast released from captivity. Aila and Kelsey shone in his mind, and how he had let them down. If he had managed to kill the two Ascendants, then he would have found them, instead of being confined to bed, sick and in near-constant pain. But it wasn’t just Aila and Kelsey that he had failed; he had lost the Sextant, which meant that the Ascendants would have the power to obliterate the two hidden worlds. Maybe they had already done it; maybe the Holdings were in smoking ruins, and the City occupied by Banner forces.
How could it have happened? How could he have been so wrong? He had no destiny; his actions weren’t guided by fate – it had all been an illusion, brought about by a mixture of stupidity and over-confidence. Blackrose had been right all along; she had known the truth, and had tried to persuade him, but he hadn’t listened. The two Ascendants had defeated him easily, and he had lost the Clawhammer before losing his life. And then… then Belinda had brought him back. Would she have done so if she had been able to see what life he was going to lead? No doubt she had done it out of pity, but part of him wished she hadn’t, and he had been allowed to die in peace.
‘Don’t try and stop me!’ yelled Vana, as a door was slammed somewhere in the lower level of the boat.
Corthie glanced down the stairs, and saw Vana charge up them, a bag over her shoulder, and Naxor a pace behind. She stopped when she saw Corthie sitting on the top step.
‘Get out of my way,’ she said. ‘Please.’
Corthie shifted to the side of the step, and Vana squeezed by. Naxor followed her, his expression dark.
‘You can’t be serious, cousin,’ he said, as they both stood on deck.
‘I am perfectly serious,’ she said, ‘and I advise you to do the same.’
‘But where in Malik’s name will you go?’
‘I’m not sure, but there’s a ship leaving from the main docks in a few hours. It’s sailing south, and will stop in at Capston, before turning and heading up to Cape Armour.’
‘It’s too risky,’ said Naxor. ‘We should stay together.’
‘I can’t believe you’re saying that, not after he nearly took my head off with that mug. He’s nothing but a vile thug; too proud to admit he’s wrong, and too stupid to stop drinking. If you stay here with him, it’ll be the end of you, dear cousin. Come with me.’
Naxor pursed his lips, his eyes lowered.
‘We have just enough money for both of us to go,’ Vana went on. ‘Leave the idiot mortals here to get caught; the Holdfasts have brought us nothing but ruin and despair.’
Naxor turned to Corthie. ‘Do you see how upset you’ve made her? Perhaps an apology would be in order.’
‘I don’t want his apology,’ she said. ‘I want nothing more to do with him.’
‘I’m speaking to you, Corthie,’ Naxor went on. ‘Apologise, and beg her to stay.’
Corthie shook his head. ‘Let her go. Maybe the ship will sink and she’ll drown.’
Vana raised her palms in the air as if to say ‘I told you so,’ then started to walk along the gangplank. Naxor glared at Corthie, then ran after her, chasing her as she strode down the pier. Within moments, both were lost in the thick crowds passing along the wide wharf, and Corthie turned his gaze back to the river.
* * *
Corthie was awoken a few hours later by the sound of boots coming down the stairs from the deck. He had gone to sleep in Vana’s cabin, as his own still stank of vomit. He listened to the footsteps as they passed the door and entered the galley, then heard voices. Corthie rubbed his face and sat up in bed. A few of Vana’s possessions were still lying around the small room, but she had taken most of her things with her when she had left. He leaned over and opened the shutters a little, then got out of bed. For once, his head wasn’t throbbing, and his stomach had calmed down, leaving just the usual collection of aches and pains. He felt hungry too, which was unusual, his appetite having been almost wiped out by his illness. He frowned. He should stop thinking of his condition as an illness. He had died, and had then been brought back, and his flesh and organs were damaged, perhaps irreparably. He felt for his battle-vision, and found it. Despite its weakness, it still gave him hope that he would fully recover.
He opened the door and walked into the galley, where Van and Sohul were sitting by the table. Sohul was serving the captain a bowl of hot food from a large pot on the stove, and they both glanced up at Corthie’s entrance.
‘I heard about Vana,’ said Van.
Corthie nodded.
‘And Naxor hasn’t returned either,’ said Sohul.
‘This is bad,’ said Van. ‘If Naxor has gone as well, then our chances of finding Kelsey and Aila are next to nothing.’
Corthie sat.
‘Even if it’s just Vana,’ the captain went on, ‘we have no idea what she’ll do next. She might go straight to the Ascendants in Alea Tanton to bargain for her life.’
‘She won’t,’ said Corthie. ‘They killed her brother; she’ll never willingly help them.’
‘And if she’s apprehended?’
‘Then we’re in trouble.’
Sohul placed the bowl in front of Van, laying out cutlery for him.
‘Could I have some?’ asked Corthie.
‘Sure,’ said Sohul. ‘You hungry?’
‘Aye, a bit.’
‘Good,’ he said; ‘that’s a good sign.’
‘This is great, Sohul, thanks,’ said Van, as he ate. ‘As soon as I’m finished, I’ll get cleaned up.’
‘How was work?’ said the lieutenant.
‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’m tired, though. Ten hours of unloading crates from ships is not my idea of fun. Still, it pays the bills, I guess.’
‘And there’s one less mouth to feed,’ said Corthie.
Van narrowed his eyes. ‘Unfortunately.’
‘There was nothing we could have done to make her stay,’ said Corthie. ‘I heard Naxor try to change her mind, but she was having none of it.’
‘And I’m sure that throwing a mug at her head had nothing to do with it.’
Corthie frowned. ‘She was getting on my nerves.’
‘So?’ said Van. ‘We’ve been cooped up together for a month; we’re all get
ting on each other’s nerves. We relied upon Vana to detect if any gods or demigods were close by, but more than that, she was one of us.’
‘She’s not one of us. She’s a demigod.’
‘So’s Aila.’
Corthie glared at him. Sohul placed a bowl in front of him before he could speak, then the lieutenant sat on the bench. Corthie gazed at the contents of the bowl, feeling an urge to fling it against the wall. Even Van was tiring of him; he could feel it.
‘What do we do now?’ said Sohul.
‘We wait,’ said Van. ‘We need to know if Naxor is returning.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
Van sighed. ‘Then I don’t know.’
‘Surely we have to wait here until Corthie has fully recovered?’
‘But how long will that take?’ Van said. ‘There is also the possibility that he won’t get any better than he is now.’ He met Corthie’s glance. ‘You were dead for several minutes. Belinda, and I say this with all respect, but she didn’t know what she was doing. I have a suspicion that she revived your heart, but that she didn’t take the time to heal all of your organs; maybe she didn’t realise that she was supposed to, and I didn’t remind her. I’ve seen people brought back by the gods before, and they only took a few days to recover. I only took a few days. It’s been over a month now, and I’m not seeing much improvement day-to-day.’
‘But his appetite’s back,’ said Sohul.
‘So he says, but he hasn’t actually eaten anything.’
Corthie gazed at the bowl. His hunger had evaporated at some point while they had been discussing Vana. He picked up a spoon and forced down a mouthful of the thick fish soup, then almost gagged. He felt dizzy, and the pains in his stomach reappeared the moment he swallowed. He thought about Van’s words, feeling that he might be correct. Nothing about his insides felt quite right, from his joints to his stomach, lungs and head. Everything ached or felt different.
‘What about salve?’ he said. ‘Would that work?’
‘Yeah, probably,’ Van said. ‘The problem is trying to get some. There’s none to be had in Kin Dai as far as I can tell, and I’ve asked around. If any Banner forces were here, then we might be in with a chance of stealing some, if, that is, it’s still being distributed to the soldiers. One vial might be enough.’
‘Naxor had some,’ said Corthie. ‘He had a small flask of it.’
‘I searched his room a few days ago while he was out,’ said Van. ‘If he has any, it isn’t on the boat.’
‘You searched his room?’ said Sohul, his eyes wide. ‘But he’d know about it; he would know you had been in there. He reads our minds; I’m sure of it.’
Van nodded. ‘I made the assumption that he would find out. To be frank, I’m beyond caring what Naxor thinks about me. If he hadn’t tried to snatch the Quadrant from Amalia, then Kelsey and Aila would still be with us.’
‘Why are you both still here?’ said Corthie. ‘It can’t be due to any contract we might have had.’
Sohul and Van shared a glance.
‘You’re right,’ said Van. ‘We helped save you from Fordamere, but our handshake agreements expired some time ago. I’m here for one reason; I promised Kelsey I wouldn’t stop looking for her.’
‘And I’m here,’ said Sohul, ‘because of Van. I have a great deal of respect for you, Corthie, but the truth is that the Banners of Implacatus will have black-listed both me and Van by now. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to return home, not after I was seen leading an attack on Banner soldiers in Fordamere. So, I stick by my captain. He is my friend, and that’s what friends do.’
Corthie nodded, deflated and in pain. He stood, and walked towards his room, ignoring the glances from Van and Sohul. He entered his cabin and closed the door. The smell had receded, and the salty air of the estuary was permeating the room. He crouched down and reached under the bed, his hand searching through piles of clothes and rubbish, until his fingers touched the surface of a clay jug. He grasped it and took it out, then sat on the bed.
One benefit of his condition, he thought, as he pulled the stopper free, was that his tolerance to alcohol had plummeted. He raised the jug to his lips and drank, gulping down the cheap, harsh spirits. His throat burned, then the warmth spread like a comforting hand across his chest, easing his aches and soothing his bitter disappointment. He felt a glow of giddy well-being, and smiled, before taking another large gulp. He thought about what Van and Sohul would be thinking, but he didn’t care, the drink smothering the anxiety he had felt at the table. So, they weren’t there for him, so what? He didn’t need them; he could clean up his own vomit.
He heard doors opening and closing, then Naxor’s voice drifted through to him. He stood, gripping the jug in one hand, and staggered into the galley.
‘Hey, Naxor,’ he said, stumbling into the long, narrow room. ‘I was hoping you’d buggered off with that bitch Vana.’
Naxor regarded him with a cool eye. ‘I was sorely tempted, believe me.’
Corthie laughed. ‘Why didn’t you? No one wants you here.’
Van frowned at him. ‘Sit down, Corthie.’
‘Screw you,’ Corthie said; ‘screw the lot of you.’
The galley stilled.
‘Em,’ said Sohul; ‘Naxor was just telling us that he’s carried out today’s vision sweep, but there’s no sign of Aila or Kelsey.’
‘And why in Pyre’s name should we believe that little rat? He’s a liar and a thief, and I should have killed him back in the City.’
‘Maybe you should go to bed,’ said Van.
‘Why?’ said Corthie, taking another long swig. ‘I’m just getting started.’ He shook the jug and frowned. Empty already. He dropped it, and it rolled to the side of the floor, coming to a rest by Naxor’s foot. He remembered that he might have hidden another somewhere in his cabin. ‘On second thoughts,’ he said, swaying, ‘I might lie down for a minute.’
He turned and stumbled off, colliding with the wall before making it back into his cabin. He scratched his head.
‘Alright, flask,’ he muttered; ‘where did I leave you?’
He leaned over to look under the bed, and his right foot slipped, sending him falling. He hit the floor, his face striking the wooden boards, then his eyes closed and he fell into oblivion.
Chapter 4
Back to the Skies
C atacombs, Torduan Mountains, Khatanax – 18th Tuminch 5252
The wind rushed through Sable’s hair as Sanguino swept round in a tight curve. Below them, the valley where the Catacombs was located was glowing red from the lava pits, while, to the east, the sun was rising over the horizon. Despite her exhilaration, Sable was concentrating hard, keeping her vision connection to the dark red dragon intact. She could feel his thoughts within her mind as she provided him with sight, complete with battle-vision. His left eye had healed to the extent that he had reasonable clarity on that side, but his right eye would never see again.
She gripped onto the leather handle attached to the harness as Sanguino banked to the left. A belt was strapped round her waist, and her booted feet were tucked into stirrups on either side of the saddle. The new harness had been finished by Millen just a few days previously, and it was working well, doing its job of keeping Sable secure on the dragon’s wide shoulders.
As well as his thoughts, Sable could also sense Sanguino’s emotions as he circled above the valley; he was happy, and it made her happy to know that. Each of them had been maimed and wounded, and together they had overcome every obstacle in their way, and this flight was their long-awaited reward.
‘Look at the sunrise,’ he called out to her; ‘it is the first I have seen in a long time, and it is all the more beautiful because of that. How I have dreamed of this day, my precious rider. I despaired at times, I confess, but your spirit bore me through all trials. You knew this day would arrive; you knew in your heart that we would fly together, and so it has come to pass. The air is beneath my wings again, and the stars above
us are shining with a splendour I had almost forgotten.’
Sable smiled. ‘We did it together, you and I.’
‘I wish to tell you something,’ he said, ‘something that I have been holding back until this moment. Blackrose told me that on Dragon Eyre, each dragon has three names, secret names, as well as a name by which they are known to everyone else. Her true name is not Blackrose. I don’t have anything like that, but I did have a name before Sanguino. It was bestowed upon me by the dragon who fathered me, though I now curse him.’
‘What is it?’
‘Badblood.’
Sable smothered her disappointment. She had known that Sanguino had been named something else in his youth, but Badblood sounded like a spiteful name given by an uncaring father. On the other hand, she reflected, it also sounded like a name given to a dangerous, outlaw dragon, and she quite liked that aspect.
‘Badblood,’ she repeated.
‘I used to hate that name,’ he said, ‘but coming from your lips it sounds different. I will allow you to address me by that name when we are flying, or otherwise alone, but you must not tell anyone else.’
‘Alright. Badblood and Sable, saviours of Dragon Eyre; I like it.’
He laughed. ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’
Sable felt the pain from her waist increase. It had been healing well, following an alarming few days after her return with Maddie from Yoneath, but the strain of the flight was making it ache. She could also sense that Badblood’s wings were tiring after so many days of inactivity, but that he was too proud to admit it.
‘Let’s go back,’ she said. ‘The wound in my stomach is getting sore.’
‘Of course, my rider; you need to rest, so that we can fly again tomorrow.’
He started to descend, until they were level with the tallest tombs. Burntskull was peering out at them from Deathfang’s lair, a bemused expression on his face, while other dragons were also watching. The hot vapours swirled up from the rivers of lava beneath them as they soared further down. Sable focussed. It would be their first landing, and it was the part she had been most concerned about, being unable to see his limbs as they extended under his body. The dragon levelled off and hovered for a moment next to the blackened square entrance to their tomb, then edged forwards into the shadows of the cavern. He landed heavily, his claws scrabbling on the stone floor of the tomb, then he brought his wings in.
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