Gates of Ruin (Magelands Eternal Siege, #6)

by Christopher Mitchell

  ‘How did you get it?’

  She shrugged. ‘I had a Quadrant and my vision powers. I could make up a story about how difficult it was, but no, it was easy.’

  He shook his head. ‘That day at the Southern Pits, when you talked me into leaving with you; you were using me, yeah? You didn’t care about me.’

  ‘I do now.’

  ‘But you didn’t back then?’

  ‘Sorry. I told you at the time that you shouldn’t trust me. Does it bother you?’

  ‘You changed my life; you turned it inside out, without a single thought for how it would affect me. All the same, I’m glad you did. I don’t regret a single moment.’

  The light coming from the tomb entrance dimmed for a moment as another dragon landed. It was Ashfall. She folded her wings in and strode forward, taking care to ignore Broadwing and Deepblue.

  ‘Where is Blackrose?’ she said.

  ‘She is speaking to her rider,’ said Sanguino.

  Ashfall turned her glance to Sable. ‘She hasn’t killed you, I see. Good. I’m glad my efforts yesterday morning were not in vain.’

  ‘Do you bear a message from your father?’ said Sanguino.

  ‘No. My father knows I am here, but he does not approve. The message I bear is from myself, and it is in response to a question your rider asked me. I was due to give my answer yesterday, but I thought it could wait until today.’

  ‘The message is for me?’ said Sable.

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Can it wait another few minutes? Blackrose should be out shortly, once she has made her decision.’

  ‘Very well,’ said the grey dragon.

  Seeing them side by side, Sable noticed how sleek and graceful Ashfall was compared to Broadwing and Deepblue. Broadwing was bigger, but somehow seemed to carry himself in an ungainly manner, as if self-conscious, while Deepblue was the smallest adult dragon in the Catacombs, and had a defensive stance that bore testimony to the repeated bullying she had experienced throughout her life.

  ‘What a magnificent array of dragons,’ Sable said. ‘Sanguino, Broadwing, Ashfall and Deepblue. I’m proud to call you all my friends. Each one of you is different, but each also possesses their own talents. Courageous, noble, graceful and intelligent. We could do great things together.’

  Ashfall laughed. ‘And is your talent to flatter dragons, witch?’

  ‘It’s one of them; I have a few.’

  Maddie appeared in the entrance of Blackrose’s cavern.

  ‘Is she coming out?’ said Sable.

  ‘She is,’ said Maddie. ‘You owe me one, Sable. You’d better not let me down.’

  Blackrose’s head emerged from the shadows of the cavern. She stared at Sable for a moment, then noticed the presence of Ashfall. She tilted her head in welcome.

  ‘Are you here to see me, Ashfall?’ she said.

  ‘I’m here to give my answer to Sable. Two days ago, she asked if I would like to join your expedition to Dragon Eyre. Today, I am here to say yes. If you’ll have me, I will come.’

  Sable grinned. ‘That’s great news. Fantastic. I…’

  ‘Yes,’ said Blackrose. ‘It is indeed good news. I also have news. My rider has, against my own judgement, persuaded me to allow Sable to accompany us. I despise liars, and Sable is a proven liar. However, rather than risk the breaking of our company, I will tolerate her presence as Sanguino’s rider.’

  Sable smiled again. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I have a few rules.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Firstly, the Quadrant will remain with Maddie. You are not to touch it without my express permission. Secondly, you will guide us to the gold you talked about, and deliver it into my keeping. And finally, rather than try to extract a useless promise from you regarding your lack of sincerity, I shall make a promise to you. If I discover that you have lied to me again at any time in the future, I will rip your head off without debate or warning. You must accept these conditions if you wish to come with us to Dragon Eyre. Do you accept?’

  Sable waited a moment, making a show of looking as if she were considering Blackrose’s words, as the five dragons stared at her. The Quadrant clause was fine; if she truly needed to use it, she would take it and hang the consequences. The gold she had already agreed to deliver, so that was no problem, either. As for the threat regarding her lies, well, all she had to do was make sure she never got caught again.

  She bowed her head a fraction. ‘I accept.’

  Chapter 17

  The Eastern Tower

  A lea Tanton, Tordue, Western Khatanax – 29th Luddinch 5252

  ‘Bloody dragons,’ muttered Arete. ‘I’ll have to go in person.’

  ‘That seems a little excessive,’ said Leksandr, sipping wine from a tall-stemmed glass. ‘Do we not have several thousand Banner soldiers under our command?’

  ‘If there were just one case to deal with, then yes, but the rogue beast hiding in the forests of Kinell will also need to be addressed. The authorities in Kin Dai are frothing at the mouth, demanding assistance. Normally, I would ignore the hysterical ravings of mortals, but from the few witnesses who survived the attack on the camp, it appears to have been carried out by the same dragon that was involved with the other in the fighting at Yoneath; a young, silver female. I’ll handle that one first, then proceed to the Catacombs.’

  ‘When will you be leaving?’ said Belinda.

  Arete narrowed her eyes. ‘Immediately. That way, you’ll have less time to warn them.’

  ‘I have already warned the mortal that I wish to be left unharmed.’

  ‘Indeed. However, the motley collection of rebels and malcontents do not appear to have heeded your words. They are still there, skulking in their filthy tomb. I entered the mind of a weak, runt dragon named Deepblue, and as far as I can see, the black dragon hates the Holdfast witch, and I’m almost tempted to watch them destroy each other. Were it not for the riots that are consuming the city, I would do just that.’

  ‘The mortals want their pit dragon back,’ said Leksandr.

  ‘Yes, but the black-scaled beast shall be gifted to the Bloodflies,’ said Arete, ‘not handed back to the Deadskins. It was Latude’s meddling that caused this situation – one dragon for each team, it’s the only fair solution.’

  ‘Perhaps we should execute Latude,’ said Leksandr. ‘He is bitter and resentful, and has caused us nothing but problems.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Arete. ‘Then we can hang his corpse up for all to see, and blame him for the riots.’

  ‘Do it upon your return from the Catacombs,’ said Leksandr. ‘You enjoy these tasks more than I. Third Ascendant, do you have anything to say on the matter?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then we are in agreement. Let’s keep it to ourselves for the moment; there’s little point in alarming Latude, and the other gods might get nervous if they knew.’

  ‘Maybe we should get rid of Felice at the same time,’ said Arete; ‘make a clean sweep.’

  ‘I’d rather not,’ said Leksandr. ‘She may be incompetent, but she shields us from having to deal with the day to day running of the city; I have no time for the tedium that would involve.’

  Arete stood up from the table. ‘We’ll see.’ She gestured to a guard by the door. ‘Bring in the squad.’

  The guard bowed low, ‘Yes, your Highness.’

  He opened a set of doors and a dozen heavily armed Banner troopers in steel plate strode into the dining room. They lined up in front of the three Ascendants and bowed.

  ‘Is that all you’re taking?’ said Leksandr.

  ‘It’s all I need.’ She withdrew a Quadrant from her robes and smirked. ‘Behave yourselves while I’m gone.’

  The air shimmered, and Arete and the dozen soldiers disappeared.

  Leksandr chuckled. ‘I do believe that Arete is almost excited to be going on a dragon hunt.’ He glanced at Belinda. ‘Do you intend to warn them again?’

  ‘No. I sent word to my old friend
when we assumed that Sable Holdfast was dead. Now that we know the truth, I have nothing else to say to them. If they choose to ally themselves to Sable, then I don’t want anything more to do with them.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘You make it sound personal.’

  ‘It is personal. Sable Holdfast is a sworn enemy.’

  ‘There you go, thinking like a mortal again.’ He shook his head. ‘In a hundred years, every mortal you know will be dead; friends and enemies alike. You should try to look beyond your personal feelings; they are transient, fleeting, just like the mortals. Arete, on the other hand, will still be around in a thousand years from now; perhaps you should worry more about her enmity.’

  Belinda nodded. ‘I am still learning.’

  ‘I know, and you are making mistakes. One thing, however, you may have got right – your intuition about the Sextant. I have pondered your words, and I now believe that you are correct; something, some part of the device, has been deliberately removed to render it inoperable. I assume it was you who removed it, Third Ascendant.’

  ‘That assumption is probably correct.’

  ‘It could be anything – a cog, a wheel, a rod; and there are several locations on the Sextant where such a part could be placed. In fact, more than one part might be missing. I intend to search Shawe Myre again; that is the most likely place where you would have hidden such a part.’

  ‘That seems logical.’

  ‘Indeed. We can rule out Yoneath, as it seems unlikely that you would have placed the missing part so close to the rest of the device. It is imperative that we find it before Lord Bastion returns.’

  Belinda nodded. She had been keeping all thoughts of Bastion, Edmond, and her vow out of her mind. Corthie was on his way, and she had to hold out until he had time to arrive in Alea Tanton. Silva had told her of Corthie’s doubts and hesitation, but Belinda had faith in him, faith that he would not abandon her. She wondered if Leksandr would lend her the Quadrant again; that way she could bring Corthie and the others directly to Alea Tanton, and they could strike while the Sixth Ascendant was alone.

  ‘What happened to Theodora, the First Ascendant?’ she said.

  Leksandr stared at her in silence for a long moment. ‘Perhaps you should ask Lord Bastion that when he gets here.’

  ‘Why don’t you just tell me?’

  ‘It is not my… place to divulge such information.’

  ‘She’s dead though, isn’t she? The First Ascendant is dead?’

  ‘Oh yes. Indubitably. Very dead.’

  ‘How did she die?’

  Leksandr sipped his wine. ‘The most blessed, holy, divine, sacred Second Ascendant killed her.’

  Belinda frowned. ‘Edmond? But why?’

  Leksandr raised his hands. ‘That’s all I’m going to say about that. Arete may wish to tell you more; that is up to her, but I shall refrain.’

  ‘Is it a secret?’

  ‘The outcome – no; everyone knows that the First Ascendant is dead. The cause? Perhaps. I would be lying if I said I knew the whole story; there are secrets that Lord Edmond has never revealed to me, and I do not wish to add to the speculation and ill-informed gossip that surround the events. Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I wish to begin my meditations on the missing part of the Sextant.’

  Belinda stood. ‘I shall leave you to your work. May I borrow your Quadrant?’

  ‘Unfortunately,’ he said, ‘I will not be able to lend you my Quadrant again. The risk of Arete discovering our secret is simply too high. I’m sure you understand.’

  Belinda hid her disappointment. ‘I do.’

  Leksandr bowed his head. ‘You have my gratitude, Third Ascendant.’

  She walked to the door, and the guard opened it for her. She went through to the stairs that descended through the western tower of the residence and paused. She was at a loose end. Corthie was still a few days away, and without access to a Quadrant, she would have to await his arrival. He’ll come, she told herself; he wouldn’t betray her; he was like a brother, and he wouldn’t let her down. An idea came to her and she set off. She went down the stairs and kept going, passing the floor where she and Arete had their quarters. She rarely ventured from the western tower, and there were still parts of the Governor’s residence that she had never seen.

  Soldiers, courtiers and servants halted and bowed low to her as she passed. Wearing her long flowing robes, she looked the part of an Ascendant – regal and unapproachable. The Banner armourers were based on the ground floor of the main wing of the residence, and she strode along the marble-lined hallways until she could hear the noise coming from their workshop. She entered a large chamber, and a dozen Banner artificers paused from their work to bow.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ said the chief artificer; ‘you honour us with your presence.’

  The chamber was filled with workbenches, and shelves were loaded with ballistae parts and piles of armour and weapons. A forge sat at the rear of the chamber beneath a wide chimney, and its coals were glowing red.

  ‘I am here about the weapon I sent downstairs for you.’

  ‘Of course, your Majesty,’ said the chief artificer. ‘I have had my best men working on it.’

  ‘Is it ready?’

  ‘Unfortunately not, your Majesty. Let me show you.’

  He led her to a crowded workbench, and removed a sheet that had been covering something.

  ‘We’re having to completely rebuild it, your Majesty. The greenhide talons themselves are still sound, but the wooden and leather parts were worn out. We’re replacing all of those parts with freshly forged steel where possible, and will be welding the talons to a new head-piece. Altogether, it will be a far more formidable weapon when we have finished with it; it should last a century, or longer. Its weight will also be increased, but I trust that this will not be a problem?’

  Belinda glanced at the pieces laid out on the workbench. A new metal handle was lying on the surface – a long rod of steel, with an engraved pattern of leaves and vines running down it. Next to it lay the three greenhide talons, along with a new curved steel spike that would be attached to the back of the head-piece.

  ‘The weight will be fine,’ she said.

  ‘As you can see, your Majesty, most of the parts are here; the weapon merely needs to be assembled, and then some further decoration can be added, along with a new leather grip and strap. It will be fit for an Ascendant by the time we’re through with it. I estimate it will be finished in a few days. Does it have a name, your Majesty? If so, we can engrave that upon it.’

  ‘It is called the Clawhammer.’

  The chief artificer nodded. ‘There is, ah, a rumour, your Majesty, concerning this weapon. Some say that it was used to destroy the Banner of the Golden Fist at the Falls of Iron, and then it was seen in action against the Banner of the Black Crown in Yoneath. Is the rumour true, your Majesty?’

  ‘Yes. I salvaged it from the cavern of Fordamere after its previous owner was slain. It used to belong to Corthie Holdfast.’

  The chamber fell into utter silence as the artificers listened.

  ‘Is that a problem?’ she said.

  ‘No, your Majesty,’ said the chief artificer. ‘The Holdfast champion was an enemy, but he had earned the respect of the Banners before he died. He was a worthy foe. We shall ensure that the work is carried out to our highest standards.’

  ‘Thank you. Send a message when it is ready.’

  The artificers bowed low.

  Belinda left the workshop and began to retrace her steps to the western tower. She paused for a moment, then turned, heading towards the tower at the opposite end of the residence instead. Latude was imprisoned within a room there, and if he was going to be executed, then she wanted to see if he was holding onto any useful information first.

  She entered the eastern tower, passing more soldiers who bowed before her. They asked her no questions, allowing her to walk where she pleased. She ascended to the second floor, where a row of locked chambers sat next t
o the stairwell. Two soldiers standing guard in the passageway glanced at her, but said nothing. She would need them to unlock the door to Latude’s chamber, and she was thinking of a suitable reason when someone began thumping on the inside of one of the other doors.

  She frowned. She hadn’t thought that there were any other prisoners kept within the eastern tower.

  ‘Belinda?’ came a muffled voice from within the other room. ‘Belinda; are you there?’

  Belinda walked towards the door where the voice was coming from, her heart rate rising. It was Vana; she recognised the voice. Vana was in the Governor’s residence. She glanced at the two soldiers.

  ‘Open this door,’ she said. ‘I wish to speak to the prisoner.’

  The soldiers bowed, and one approached with a set of keys. He selected the correct one and unlocked the door. Belinda pushed it open.

  ‘Belinda!’ cried Vana from the doorway. ‘You’re here to release me? At last.’

  Belinda walked into the chamber and shut the door behind her.

  Vana frowned. She looked rough – her clothes were soiled from travelling, and her eyes were tired and wide.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she said to Belinda. ‘Aren’t you here to let me out?’

  ‘How long have you been in here, Vana?’

  ‘Four days,’ the demigod said. ‘I was hiding in Alea Tanton, and then soldiers arrested me and brought me here. Didn’t you know?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You have to get me out; I’m going crazy in here. I’ve been given hardly anything to eat or drink, and they’ve not even allowed me to take a bath or change my clothes.’

  ‘Have you been questioned?’

  ‘What? Em, no, not really. A god was here; she came to see me when I arrived, but no one since then. I don’t understand; I know I was in the Falls of Iron, but so were you, and you’re free. Are the Ascendants going to have me killed? I’ve done nothing wrong.’

  ‘Sit down for a moment,’ said Belinda; ‘let me think.’

  Belinda took a seat, but Vana began pacing up and down the narrow chamber. It was sparsely furnished, with just a low bed and a couple of chairs, and the window was barred.