The Arclight Saga

by C. M. Hayden

  Eventually, the Curia was dismissed and the Sun King motioned to leave. Taro, forgetting himself in the moment, hurried toward the throne and was promptly stopped by the royal guard. The burly, steel-clad guards seized him by the upper arms, almost lifting him from the ground. These were no ordinary warders, either; each of them had their templars open. They weren’t magisters, but could do serious damage.

  They knew who Taro was, and that he was an official advisor to His Majesty, but with the Sun King’s recent apprehension by the Shahl, and the incident with Vexis before that, it wasn’t a surprise that they’d be overly protective of him. The Sun King looked back, and when he saw Taro, he quickly ordered the guards to release him.

  A wide, warm smile appeared on the Sun King’s face. “Now, now, Sir Leren, Sir Ancel,” he said to the guards, “this boy is not to be touched. If it weren’t for him, I would not be standing here today. Approach, Taro.”

  Taro brushed off his sleeves and approached the Sun King. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry, I was wondering if the dragons had left the city?”

  “They did, without much fanfare,” the Sun King said, taking his seat. “They had an ill look about them.”

  “Did they say anything?”

  “Not much. May I ask what this is about?”

  Taro hesitated. He was suddenly very aware that hundreds of eyes were staring at him from every direction. “After our escape from Helia, Arangathras spoke to me alone. He said the Helians are raising dragons from the dead, to use them as weapons.”

  Lord Fenris scoffed. “Raising the dead? This is a serious Curial meeting, boy. Take your foolishness elsewhere.”

  The Sun King quieted Fenris with the flat of his hand. “Did he offer any proof?”

  “None,” Taro said. “But the thought seemed to terrify them, and anything the dragons are afraid of is something we should take seriously, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Would they be willing to fight with us? If it’s their kin being corrupted, it would seem to be their fight as well.”

  “I don’t know, but maybe they’ll be open to discussing it,” Taro said.

  Fenris made a disgusted face. “Your Majesty, this is folly. The dragons have avoided human contact for centuries, they’re not going to start helping us now.”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” General Gavin grumbled.

  Magister Briego spoke up. He hadn’t shaved in a while, and looked quite a bit scruffy and unkempt. “The least we could do is send an envoy. The Eventide is readying for departure to Caelis Enor to search for oathbreakers. Once it’s ready to fly, it could arrive in Castiana within the week.”

  “How long before she’ll be sky-worthy?” General Gavin asked.

  “Eight days, at least,” Briego said.

  The Sun King motioned one hand toward Briego. “I agree with the Imperator. We’ll test the waters with a few diplomats, and see if we can convince Sivion to intercede. It’s worth a try.”

  Taro straightened his back. “With your permission, I’d like to go.”

  The Sun King didn’t need to think for very long. “Granted. You’re the clear choice for the job. You seem to have built something of a relationship with them. You rescued Arangathras, after all.”

  Taro tried to keep his voice steady. “I’d also like to request extended leave afterwards.”

  Confusion pitched the Sun King’s voice. “For what reason?”

  “Vexis,” Taro said simply. He clenched his walking stick hard at the mere thought of her.

  The Sun King looked uncomfortable about his response. “Is this about revenge for your father?”

  Taro shook his head. “This is about justice.”

  Their eyes locked for a moment, and the Sun King grimaced. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t condone you gallivanting off to fight her. Go to Castiana, speak with the dragons, and return here after.”

  Taro took an aggressive step forward, immediately regretting it. The guards moved in slightly, though made no motion to touch him. “You don’t understand, I need to go.”

  The Sun King looked less bemused this time. “That’s my final word on the matter, young artificer. You’re dismissed.”

  The Sun King stood to leave, but Taro didn’t let up. “Your Majesty—”

  For the first time since Taro had met him, the Sun King seemed legitimately annoyed. “I said you’re dismissed.”

  Taro spoke his next words under his breath, but with the dead silence in the room, they carried. “Are you sure you want to keep me here when the southern lords come to court? You never know what kind of things can come up in casual conversation.”

  The Sun King froze, briefly taken aback. He turned, and Taro continued to speak.

  “Ask Magister Sullen, he can tell you,” Taro added darkly.

  The Sun King looked to Magister Sullen, the enormous bear-like commander with a mechanical arm. No doubt, they’d already spoken about what Taro learned in Helia: some sort of pact had been made between Magister Ross and the Shahl, years ago. The Sun King may not have initiated it, but it was clear that he was aware of its existence. The Shahl had traded something valuable for a fragment of the Arclight, and in so doing, damaged the Arclight as a whole, plunging the city into icy darkness. Such a pact, regardless of the reason, would be devastating to the Sun King’s authority. It might even cause a civil war.

  Taro was taking a serious gamble with this threat, and he knew it. He had a good relationship with the Sun King, and while he didn’t exactly want to damage it, he also couldn’t sit by while Vexis roamed free.

  To be fair, Taro knew he was far from innocent. Much of his desire to catch her stemmed from his own sense of guilt. He’d let her out of the Carcerium. If not for him, his father would be alive. If not for him, his sister’s mind and well-being wouldn’t be in the clutches of a maniac.

  The Sun King kept his composure and cleared his throat. “See me in my study, please, Mr. Taro. The rest of you are dismissed.” His words were overly polite, belying the true depth of the anger smoldering beneath the surface.

  The Sun King left through the side door, and Taro followed. Adjacent to the Curial chamber was a short hallway that led into a sizable office. The Sun King’s study was lined with tomes and scrolls, piled high on desks and fine mahogany shelves. It was, however, perfectly organized, much unlike the offices of most magisters. In the back was a sturdy writing desk, at which the Sun King sat.

  “Leave us,” the Sun King said to the guards. “Shut the door.”

  They did so, and the Sun King ushered for Taro to take a seat.

  “Taro, I consider you a personal friend. I don’t say that lightly. You saved my daughter. You saved me. You saved my men. I thank you deeply, from the bottom of my heart.”

  Taro sat, leaning his walking stick against the front of the desk. “Don’t mention it.”

  “Because of that, I’m going to let your comments slide this time. But…if you threaten me again, I’ll throw you into a dungeon that will make the Carcerium seem like a midsummer holiday.”

  Taro cleared his throat. “I’m not trying to threaten you. I needed to get your attention.”

  “You’ve got it. My undivided attention.”

  “Tell me the truth,” Taro said. “No obfuscations. No lies. Man to man. Did you know that Magister Ross promised a shard of the Arclight to the Shahl?”

  The Sun King’s wooden chair swiveled away, and he seemed deep in thought as he stared at a painting of a sailing ship on the wall. “I knew.”

  Taro stood, momentarily filled with rage, but he somehow cooled his tongue. “Why? Why would you do something like that?”

  “The way Amelia explained it, it wouldn’t affect the Arclight in any meaningful way. When the Arclight was damaged, it wasn’t even clear that it had been because of the shard’s rem
oval. Even now we’re not sure. In fact, the Arclight continued to work for many months after.”

  “Then why lie about it?”

  “The city was in upheaval. People blamed the Magisterium, and the Crown was the only thing holding the peace together. Even during the uprising with Vexis, the palace was untouched. Perhaps that was one of the reasons that wicked cur left me alive, unsure as to how our citizens would react to my death.

  “If the kingdom knew I’d sanctioned the Magisterium’s actions, there would be a full-scale revolt. In every corner of the kingdom. People would be calling for my head. I will not go down in history as the king who ended my line.”

  Taro scratched a splinter in his armrest as he thought. As explanations went, it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. At the very least the Sun King wasn’t a villain. At least, no more a villain than Taro himself.

  “I understand,” Taro said softly. “I’m sorry about what I said back there. My father just died…I’m not thinking straight.”

  The Sun King’s expression warmed. “I understand. When my father passed away, I was livid for months. But I’m not your enemy, Taro.”

  “Then help me,” Taro pleaded. “Please. Let me go. I have to face her.”

  “What makes you think you can defeat her?”

  “I have a plan.”

  “Am I to assume that this ‘plan’ involves less-than-honorable means?”

  “The lowest of the low,” Taro said. “But it might work, if I can get close enough to her sister.”

  The Sun King frowned hard. “Her sister…?”

  “What do you have to lose? Just me.”

  The Sun King nodded, leaning back and touching his hand to his temples. “Very well. I won’t deny you your ‘justice.’”

  Taro exhaled, relieved. “Thank you.”

  “But only after you’ve tended to your duties in Castiana,” the Sun King added.

  “Of course.”

  “The Eventide is being sent to round up those who aren’t responding to their summon. I’ll have them deliver you to Castiana first.”

  “Just me?”

  “Certainly not. You’re not the only one in the city who has experience dealing with dragons. My daughter will accompany you.”

  Taro looked up, and the Sun King seemed to notice his elated reaction.

  “Don’t get too excited. I can’t travel to Castiana myself, and the dragons might consider sending an underling to be an insult. More than that, Kyra can speak for me in this. You answer to her, understood?”

  “Understood.”

  Chapter Six

  The Gray Wolf

  The Skyport was always a sight to behold. It was one of the most active areas of the Magisterium, as the airships required constant maintenance and repair. Four of these great beasts of artificing were docked in the Skyport, tied to pillars with thick lace-steel mooring lines. The ships, designed by Amelia Ross herself, were amalgamations of wood and steel, Endran magistry and artifacts scavenged from Old God dig sites. They were quite literally irreplaceable.

  All the airships were being worked on to some degree, but only the Eventide was being prepped for flight. The Midwinter and the North Star were in states of advanced disassembly, with scores of magisters picking through their heavy metal turbines.

  Only a few feet from the top floor entrance, where Taro had entered the Skyport, was a metal walkway. To the right were offices for the senior magisters, to the left were storage rooms. Straight ahead was a flight of metal grate stairs that led directly down to the work floor where the ships were docked. Taro descended carefully, trying to keep his walking stick from wedging in the crosshatches.

  The opposite side of the Skyport opened directly into empty air. Outside of this huge opening, Taro could see the city below, stretching out for miles. The water around it. The mountains in the distance, everything illuminated in bright hues of gold and white. Crisp, clean air filled the port, making it not nearly as fowl as the Artificium.

  Kyra was at the base of the Eventide, near the starboard rudder, looking over some of the spot welds. She was a bit different than he normally saw her: there were no grease smears on her face and clothes; in fact, her uniform looked brand new. Her bright hair was tied back into a ponytail, and she looked several years older than she actually was.

  When she noticed Taro, she met him halfway. For a moment, Taro thought she’d hug him, but she stopped just short.

  “Where are your things?” Kyra asked. “We’ve got a long trip ahead of us.”

  Taro turned, showing off a small pack flung over his shoulder. “I travel light. I have some clothes I still need to bring down, but that’s about it.”

  “Well, you’ve got some time. We won’t be leaving for another eight hours.”

  “What’s the holdup?”

  “No holdup. Fenn is still retrieving a few more scrolls from the Librarium before joining us.”

  “Fenn?” Taro asked, thinking for a moment. “Moira’s assistant? Why are we bringing a librarian?”

  Kyra’s gave an amused smile. “Fenn’s one of the smartest people in the Magisterium. A fact that he’s all too aware of. I asked him to come for a few reasons, but mainly he’s getting a list of the magisters and artificers that haven’t been accounted for. Oathbreakers.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Not many,” Kyra said. She motioned for Taro to follow her on her inspection of the Eventide, and spoke as they walked the perimeter of the hull. “Two dozen haven’t answered the summon yet. Some might just be late in responding. Of the rest, half might be dead or otherwise unable to fight. We’ll pay them a little visit, check their last known locations and ask around.”

  “And if they refuse to come?”

  A voice from nearby answered him. It belonged to a middle-aged man in green gambeson. He was grizzled and gray, with wild, wolf-like hair. A pair of thick goggles hung from his neck.

  “They have no choice,” he said. “They swore an oath. It’s serve, or face the king’s justice.” When Kyra saw him, she practically tackled him onto the floor in a hug. He returned it warmly and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Uncle Cassin!” Kyra said, pulling away and shaking him by the arm. “I heard you and Uncle Landen were on your way, but I didn’t think you’d get here so quickly.”

  “Uncle?” Taro asked skeptically.

  “Lord Cassin Termane,” the man said, holding his beefy hand toward Taro.

  Taro shook it. “Sorry, I haven’t heard of you.”

  The man’s eye glimmered. “That’s okay, I’ve heard of you. Hero of Endra. Rescued my dear brother from the clutches of the Shahl. Defeated the Shadowmancer in combat, etcetera, etcetera.”

  Taro was slightly taken aback. This was the Sun King’s brother, someone who, but for the luck of birth, would be ruler of all Endra. Taro tried to show appropriate reverence. He’d gotten fairly good at it, being around nobles and magisters for two years now. He bowed deferentially.

  “No need for all that,” Cassin said, ushering him back up. “We’re all friends here.” He clasped both hands around Taro’s. “Sorry to hear about your father, my boy. I know how difficult it is to lose a parent.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Taro said, a shiver of despair piercing through him at the thought.

  “So,” Lord Cassin said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s get this bird in the air.”

  “Wait, you’re coming?” Kyra asked.

  “Coming? I’m captaining the mission.” Before Kyra could speak again, Cassin held up a hand. “Your father asked me to do it personally. I’ll be able to track these AWOL bastards down.” Cassin hugged Kyra once more and smiled. “It’s so good to see you again, love. I can’t believe how beautiful you’ve gotten, or how much you’ve grown. And a magister, to
boot! After all that business with Kurian, I was worried.”

  Kyra beamed. “With any luck, I’ll get to see him in Castiana.”

  Taro was a bit annoyed that he wasn’t privy to what was going on. “Who’s Kurian?”

  “A good friend of mine. A boy I trialed with years before you came to the Magisterium. He lives in Castiana now.”

  “He lives there?” Taro said, bewildered. “Does that mean he’s a—”

  Kyra’s grinned wide. “A dragon? Yes, he is at that.”

  Lord Cassin left them to tend to his men. “We’ll talk more later, love,” he said as he parted.

  Taro looked left and right to make sure nobody was nearby, then pulled Kyra off to a corner beside a stack of supply crates. “Kyra,” he whispered. “Can I trust you?”

  “That’s a loaded question, coming from you,” she said knowingly. Before he could respond, she held one hand up to stop him. “Yes, you can trust me. And I can honestly say, after all that’s happened, I finally trust you.”

  Taro bulled ahead. “What I mean is, can I trust you not to repeat anything I say to anyone? Not to your uncle, not to your father, not to the Imperator?”

  Kyra looked concerned. “What’s all this about?”

  “Promise me,” he said. “Please, I need to tell someone.”

  Kyra took a shallow breath. “Okay,” she said. “I promise.”

  Taro looked around briefly. “We need to go somewhere more private.”

  Taro led Kyra to the Librarium, the large octagonal structure just outside of the Magisterium. It held the sum of the Magisterium’s knowledge: books, ledgers, scrolls, records, and tomes. Several stories high, and countless stories deep, it contained ten thousand times ten thousand books. In the lowest areas of the Tombs were areas as old as Endra Edûn itself, where one could wander for weeks and die of starvation before ever finding a way out.

  The aboveground floors were much more manageable. Neat bookshelves lined the walls, and in the center were dozens of long tables for recruits, artificers, and magisters to browse at their leisure. Off to the sides, through mazes of shelves and stacks of books, were private reading alcoves. Taro took Kyra into one, propped a chair against the door.