Arrival (14 page)

“Light—welcome our child into our family and our home. Know that we will love her for as long as we shall live, and let her name be “Satine.” He spoke the required words softly and lovingly to his first child. He looked at his wife, exhausted and sore from her exertion, and she stared up at him with huge brown eyes. Satine had been born with his own bright blue eyes, and for that, Altor was pleased.

“Welcome, Satine,” his wife intoned after him. “Isn’t she lovely, Altor? We must be the luckiest people in the world.”

“Yes,” he agreed softly.

The baby began to cry and Liessen stroked her fondly. Altor was slightly surprised at the gentle care Liessen was applying, as she was usually so harsh and strong in everything she did. It was partly what he loved about her.

But this child had brought a new softness to both of them he conceded, knowing that he usually matched his wife in strength.

“You are sure you don’t want a wet nurse?” he asked, but was silenced by a look that suggested she had not been completely softened.

“I want this child to be with me at all times,” she said firmly. “I could not bear it if the same distance between my mother and I occurred with Satine and I.”

“That was a matter of culture, Liessen,” Altor protested.

“A culture that is not Satine’s. It never will be,” she said, mostly to herself. “And let us thank the gods for that. Frescana is no place for a child to be born into.”

Altor nodded reluctantly and reached for the child.

“
You shall be a fighter, Satine,” he whispered to her confidingly, and Liessen smiled. “Despite where you were born. Just like your mother and father.”

They were a family of warriors, born that way, bred that way. It could not be changed—it was in their blood. And as he told Satine this, staring into his only daughter’s clear blue eyes, he could have sworn that she smiled.

Three weeks prior to Elixia’s revelation in a study in Amalia, Darknor, the emperor of the ancient Kabduh race who lived in the Sands of Anuk, died. With a wound from a poison arrow, shot by a treacherous soldier who had been caught and skinned alive, the emperor left the living world to be reborn in another land. He did this, leaving his son to lead the desert warriors into a time of foreseen war. Liam, eldest of five sons born to the longest-standing emperor, was a quiet, clever man. Dangerous, they called him. Dark-skinned, like the rest of them, he was covered in tattoos and thus a fearsome sight.

Before his father died, Liam was given a task: to leave Tirana and learn about the coming war. That a war was coming was of no doubt—the Kabduh’s faith in their Shaman was unfailing—but they could only learn so much through his gift of true sight, so their questions had been left up to Liam. Was it their fate to be a part of Paragor’s looming war?

But then the arrow had hit, and the rules had changed.

Liam knew what was necessary. His race needed an emperor, but he was reluctant to give up his mission.

Much to his people’s disapproval, he left to find out what he could.

Lastaam, his younger brother, had been the first to protest. “It isn’t appropriate for you to be doing this yourself. Why is it necessary?”

“If we do not involve ourselves in this war we will be excluded from it. Is that what you want?”

“You know it isn’t.”

“Then it is necessary for me to find out where our loyalties must lie.”

Liam had travelled from Tirana to Cynis Witron under a false name. Saish was the most common name of their country, and thus the safest.

And so he’d come to the strange new country of Cynis Witron where there were wide plains of grass, rainforests, and mountains all somehow existing harmoniously with each other—feats of beauty he’d never even imagined before. As a means of inconspicuous travel he’d become a servant for a young Torrean singer.

Liam may have lived a long way from this place and its strange customs, but even he knew the legend of Locktar. And even he—a man who took pleasure from hunting and killing wild beasts, and skinning them with his bare hands, a man who was more than accustomed to fighting those who sought to take power from his family—was frightened by the sight of the monster.

Staying anonymous had been most difficult after coming face to face with the prince. Fern had been the hardest to fool. It was important that Liam kept up the impression of being the little slow-witted Kabduh, just a simple warrior who needed money. But the prince had seen right through that act.

All he could do was hope that there were more important things on Fern’s mind.

Liam blinked his eyes to clear his head and better focus on what was going on around him. Just then, he was standing on the deck of a boat with Ria, Fern, and the Stranger, holding on to the railing so as not to lose his footing amidst the rocky seas.

Liam had not been able to take his eyes off Jane since their first meeting only nights ago. It was not because she was beautiful, though she was. It was because of what he knew, what had been foreseen. The shaman had told Liam things about this girl, and her fellow Strangers. They were not to be spoken of; as the emperor, he would carry the knowledge, and wait quietly for the time when everything would come to pass. He had found his loyalties. Had found exactly where the Kabduh would place their faith.

There was a fifth person on board with him now—someone they had come across before setting sail. The four of them had been in a bar the night before sailing for Amalia. Quietly sipping their Torrean ice wine (a rare treat even for those who lived in Cynis Witron), the presence of a prince and one of the country’s most famous singers had not gone unnoticed. The barkeep had wanted to treat them to the night’s wine, and Fern had graciously accepted.

The moment they entered, Liam scanned the room and noticed the presence of a figure with a dark cloak drawn around his face, sitting in the far corner. It was his job to notice such things.

Liam had been watching him for most of the night and was a little alarmed at the unmoving, unwavering attention the cloaked man gave the prince. Liam had found this curious. What was his interest in Fern?

Full of wine, Fern rounded everyone up to head back to the ship, and the cloaked figure’s body stiffened as he sat forward and called out a challenge to Ria.

“Would you sing for us, my lady, to calm our jittery nerves?” a low husky voice rang out over the bar.

“Ria, not now,” Fern warned.

“And do you think yourself my keeper?” she asked the prince.

Fern sighed and shook his head. Liam decided it was time for him to intervene. Slinking over to Ria, he whispered in her ear, “It is a diversion to delay us. Could be dangerous.”

Ria paused while taking her harp out of its case. She stared closely at Liam and then turned her eyes to the man in the corner who’d still not removed his cloak.

“Ah, but her faithful servant would advise her otherwise. No matter. I shall have someone else sing for me.” There was something strange about the voice. Liam couldn’t put his finger on it. Ria hesitated and continued to pull her harp out. Turning back to him, she said, “Surely it will look suspicious if I don’t sing? It will be fine, maybe I can earn us some coin.”

Liam sighed. It wasn’t as though they actually needed any—they were travelling with a prince.

The song was good, Liam supposed. He personally didn’t care much for the style of music, but those in the tavern seemed to enjoy it immensely. The person in the corner didn’t take his eyes off Fern the whole time.

Only when Ria finished, and the bar was hysterical with cheers, did the figure remove his cloak. And Liam realised what had been wrong with the voice. It was a woman’s.

A handsome woman with long, matted blonde hair stared up at them. Her tanned body was lithe, and long muscled legs sprawled lazily in front of her. White teeth gleamed at them, and bright blue eyes carried laughter. She rose from her chair, like a cat unfurling itself. She was taller than anyone in the room, except for the prince, who bore Elvish blood. She was lightly clothed for the chilly night air, and wore a silver band around her upper arm. A long staff hung at her side, and a bow was slung across her back.

She could be none but an Amazonian, one of the warrior women that lived in the northern jungles of Frescana. Liam frowned—it was unusual to see the Amazonians outside their own country and up until a few years ago it had even been illegal.

He was surprised to see a grin spread across the prince’s face. The man crossed the room and shook hands with the woman heartily.

The prince gestured for them to come over and meet her. And thus they learned that this was Fey, Queen of the Amazonians; doing exactly as he himself was—trying to find out more about the tidings of the world.

“You sing well. What is your name?” Fey asked Ria before Fern had had a chance to introduce them.

“Ria del Torr.”

Fern said, “My apologies, Fey. Let me introduce you. This is Ria and her servant, Saish. And this is my friend Jane. We’re travelling to Uns Lapodis to take counsel with Gaddemar.”

The queen elected to join them, and now they were five.

The next morning they set sail on one of the smaller public ships towards Uns Lapodis.

Liam watched Fey and Fern sparring on the deck. They were both very good, and most of the sailors had spent a few hours watching them, mesmerised by the speed of their blades.

The only person who hadn’t spent much time watching them was Jane. On deck, she seemed to prefer to watch the ocean rolling beneath them. It was easy to notice how her brow was always furrowed.

Liam was mentally noting the flaws in Fey’s fighting technique when the two fighters came to a halt and turned to him.

“I have had enough of fighting someone who constantly beats me! Would you have a spar with our dear prince, Kabduh?” Fey called out to him. Liam didn’t want to play silly sword games—they were a waste of time, but if he refused, they would think something was amiss. After all, he was only a servant, and he was being asked to do something. The Amazonian took his hesitation as fear.

“You are afraid? I must say I’m disappointed. I have heard great things about the fighting skills of the warriors from the Sands of Anuk. Never mind then.”

Liam sighed, not at all in the mood to pretend to be insulted, but walked forward, drawing just one of his swords. Two would be ridiculously unfair. Liam felt a little ashamed. This sort of play was foolish. Fighting was not a game.

Fern stared at him with laughter in his eyes. Somehow he must have guessed what Liam was thinking, for he said softly, so that no one else could hear, “Don’t take this too seriously, Saish. It’s just a way to practise when we have no time for anything else.”

The prince was still panting from his earlier combat, so Liam decided to go easy on him.

The emperor of the desert warriors was a wonderful fighter—a warrior among warriors. He had been raised by men who had always known his potential as emperor and had therefore shown him no softness, not even as a child. Liam had never lost a fight.

But Emperor Liam realised straight away that however good he was, he could still be terribly wrong.

Fern wasn’t just slightly more skilled than Fey. He was miles ahead, and apparently just as good at hiding things from others as Liam was. The accuracy and strength of Fern’s blows was startling, even to one lucky enough to have seen every style of fighting.

Utterly shocked at the sudden brilliance of this young prince before him, Liam drew his second sword and began to throw everything he could into the match.

To the onlookers, the fight was more intense than any they had seen before. They could not possibly know that the Kabduh was being completely manipulated by his opponent.

What was strange was that Fern was putting such effort into hiding that he was a master swordsman. Right then and there he could have bested Liam; instead he pretended and prolonged the fight. Liam had a sudden thought that this must have been what Fern had spent his whole life doing—dulling himself that he might not outshine everyone around him.

Liam was overcome by Fern’s power, but tried not to show it. Fern fought with complete faith in his blade, and used no technique Liam had ever seen.

Before they could finish, and before Liam could be completely humiliated, there was a shout from the railing. Jane had not even turned to watch the fight, and was now pointing at a distant haze on the horizon. Amalia, capital city of Uns Lapodis.

The fight was forgotten and they disappeared to their rooms below deck to gather their belongings.

The trip had taken several days, some of them rough with storms that had meant the travellers had to be cooped up below deck, and when they reached dry land, the five of them were truly glad to arrive.

Watching the city take shape before their eyes, they realised why Amalia was so famous.

Silence reigned over the ship as its passengers looked at the brightly-coloured buildings shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. It stretched over the entire hillside as far as they could see in every direction and was so alive with colour and movement that it was breathtaking.

They filed off the ship one after the other, with Liam bringing up the rear. Quickly, spotting his chance whilst the others were out of earshot, he took hold of Fern’s arm. The prince turned to look at him questioningly.

“That was, I mean, your fighting was...” Liam started to say, but found himself lost for words. And then, as if used to such a reaction, Prince Fern merely winked cheerfully and led the way off the boat without a word, leaving Liam to follow and wonder how it was that people would react when the real truth about this man’s ability finally came out.

“Are you saying that there is life on Elendial?”

Accolon asked incredulously.

“Archaic life, yes,” Elixia replied.

“Angels live on Elendial?” he asked, obviously having trouble grasping the fact. “And Gods, you said?”

“The Gods hold their meetings there.”

“Why did we not know this? Elendial is the last of the stars to shine, and has been for hundreds and hundreds of years! And there are angels on it!”

“I’d say there is only a very small portion of knowledge that we humans have, and that it does not necessarily include the doings of the gods.”

Luca, like Anna, was puzzled. They had been for some time now. And then something dawned on him, and it all began to make sense. Anna looked at him and he could see that she had come to the same conclusion he had.

“The dream,” he said quietly.

“What dream?” Accolon asked. He seemed angry.

“My friends and I have been having a dream,” Luca told them in his deep, soft voice. “We had it before we came to Paragor.”

“An angel,” Anna said, “had been shot in the back with arrows, and flew through the sky to return to Elendial. He was trying to tell them that someone was going to attack, but he died before he had a chance to explain who.”

Accolon’s face was pale as chalk. “Was there anything else? Anything at all? It is important that I know all the details.”

Luca thought for a moment, and then said, “There was something. Before the angel entered the meeting room, he was stopped by someone. I suppose he might have been some sort of god. He tried to stop the angel from delivering his message. It was as though the god knew exactly what was going on, knew how much danger everybody was in and still wanted to stall.”

“How many times did you have this dream?” Accolon asked sharply.

“I’d say about ten.”

Anna nodded in agreement and then said, “The god, he was really evil, I think. He must have been working with whoever shot the angel in the back.”

Accolon was now so white that he looked as though he might faint. Elixia was of a similar colour. But still the prince’s voice was calm.

“I need you to think carefully. Did you get the feeling that this vision was of something that had already happened, or has it yet to come to pass?”

“I don’t know, Accolon. It’s just something we saw,” Luca shrugged apologetically and the prince clenched his teeth in frustration. Then he turned to his bride-to-be.

“Elixia, do you know which room they’re talking about?”

Elixia nodded slowly and then said, “It’s the meeting room. I think the angel must have been trying to talk to the elders.” The group looked at her questioningly, so Elixia explained. “The elders are a group of high-order gods who come together to discuss the ruling of life on Paragor. They don’t meet for just any reason. The angel must have been very important if they let him into the conference room.”

Accolon slowly paced the room, then turned to face them.

“I’ll give you a scenario. The angel was flying away from Leostrial. The angel was a spy, and had discovered something important. He tried to leave and was shot. What he learnt was that Leostrial is somehow going to attack Elendial.”

Silence fell over the room, and Luca noticed Vezzet’s face was ghostly pale.

Accolon continued. “I don’t need to tell you how disastrous this would be. If Leostrial waged war on the gods and won, our existence would be changed irreversibly, the lives we lead would be destroyed. We cannot let Leostrial win.”

“Why would he want this?” Tomasso asked. “Why would anyone want such destruction?”

“I don’t know,” Accolon shook his head. “We can ask Satine what she thinks when she returns.”

“How can you have guessed all of this?” Elixia asked, her mind still on Accolon’s theory.

“In Uns Lapodis all the children of court are taught about the lore of the gods. We didn’t know that there were angels still living on Elendial. It’s not hard to imagine that someone lusting after power would want to attack the place where most of it lies. Does he seek to become like a god himself? I truly hope not. But, for now, I must ready myself for the coronation.” He turned and strode to the door, but as he opened it, he almost ran into a servant who had come to deliver a message.

“My lord, people have arrived. They have come from the sea. It’s Prince Fern. He wishes to see you.”

“Of course,” said Accolon, flying past the small man and nearly knocking him over. The five left in the room looked at each other. Vezzet was so pale Anna thought he might pass out. Tomasso, his brow creased in thought, was looking at his hands where they lay in his lap. He looked up suddenly right into Anna’s eyes, and she blushed, glad he could not know what she’d been thinking. She didn’t know what she saw in his eyes—something fierce, and it scared her a little. She looked at Vezzet, and despite his pale colouring, he gave her a reassuring smile, and it made her feel better.

“What the hell is going on?” she hissed to Luca under her breath.

He shook his head and spread his hands.

“But are they serious?” she pressed. “Are they actually saying that gods and angels are real? And that humans are capable of attacking them?”

He shrugged.

“But does this mean that these gods just rule Paragor, or do they rule Earth too?” Anna asked. “What’s everyone going to say when we get home and tell them the truth! They’ll be furious! Do you think they’ll believe us?”

Luca reached out and put his hands on Anna’s shoulders. “An, calm down. I don’t know. We’ll just have to wait and find out. Try not to let it worry you. Let’s go see who this Prince Fern is.”

Anna nodded mutely and followed the others out of the room.

As Luca entered the entrance hall ahead of Elixia and Anna, he stopped dead, a gasp escaping his lips. There stood Jane, and Luca rushed to reach her first, taking her in a huge embrace and kissing her on the lips. She gave a shocked, breathless laugh, clutching at him tightly. After a moment he stepped back that the others might greet her too.

A very, very tall, handsome man stood protectively behind Jane and stared at Luca with hard eyes. Luca wondered, bristling, who he was.

Another man and woman stood with them. The man had dark skin, was very large, and looked surly under his tattooed face. The woman was lean and muscled, and almost like a cat in the way she moved.

Then they stepped aside and Luca saw that another person stood behind them all.

Looking at the girl, Luca felt his heart clench. She was real. And even prettier than she had been in the water of the basin.

He waited for somebody to introduce them.

“This is Ria del Torr.” He looked into her eyes, and having her acknowledge him for the first time, he felt a little out of breath.

“Are you well?” she inquired worriedly.

He realised that he had been staring dumbly. Lowering his eyes he murmured an apology, wondering where his ever-present composure had gone. But he saw that she was smiling.

He was then introduced to the other two people. The woman’s name was Fey, and she was the Queen of the Amazonians. The man was Saish, Ria’s servant.

Accolon clasped hands with the man who had been standing behind Jane.

“Prince Accolon,” the man said warmly, a brilliant smile on his face. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been too long.”

Accolon nodded his head and said, “Prince Fern.” Too long indeed. Your presence here is certainly very welcome, and happens to come at a very timely moment.

So this was Prince Fern of Cynis Witron. Of course it was. Who else could it possibly have been? Even Luca, newly arrived, an entire country away, had heard about this man. This beloved man, the noblest warrior prince in the world. Even the people of other countries loved him, admired him, sought his approval, but never thought to come as close as that. He was a figurehead. A symbol. And here now, in front of Luca, behind Jane, and that meant so much. Everything was happening so quickly. It was hard to take it in, to make sense of what was plain and clear in front of him.

There it was—the way the prince was touching Jane’s elbow, as if in protection. Intimate, and personal.

Luca couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that seethed through him. Without thinking about it, he reached forward and took hold of Jane’s hand, drawing her a little closer to him. Jane smiled and squeezed back, but Fern just looked at him, at the two of them.

Though the prince must have only been a couple of years older than the Strangers, he was well muscled, and graceful beyond measure. His grey eyes stared at Luca with more than a little wariness, and Luca didn’t have to be too clever to guess why. There was a long straight sword at Fern’s waist. It was carved, but Luca was not close enough to make out the patterns. He was clad very lightly due to the hot weather. There was a silver band around his upper arm, and Luca wondered bitterly how it was not broken by the size of his muscles.

The two princes stood opposite one another and the rest of them could see that they were very different. One tall and graceful as a dancer, with laughter in his eyes. The other short and stocky, and no mirth in him at all. And yet there was something similar about them both. They were of an age, Luca realised, and perhaps it was their youth that made them seem similar.

Looking from one to the other, Luca felt a sense of insignificance. He looked at Jane, and for the first time in his life, did not feel close to his best friend.

Was that the power that Paragor had over them? To change everything that they had known and make them feel lost?

Jane felt happier than she had in a long time. She had finally found her friends.

“Oh, An! I’ve missed you so much!” she laughed, hugging the girl tightly. Luca still hadn’t let go of her hand.

“I know!” Anna squealed. “We thought we were never going to find you! Have you seen the others? Jack and Mia?”

“No. I’ll explain about that later. Where’s Harry?”

“He’s not far away—I think Accolon said he’d be able to come back into the city once he’s been crowned.”

Jane felt a surge of disappointment. “I was really looking forward to seeing him. But how have you both been?”

Luca and Anna exchanged a look. “Really good,” Anna said quickly. “We woke in a room in this palace, and we haven’t gone far since! How amazing is all of this!”

“Too amazing,” Jane agreed with a shake of her head. “I’m so glad I found you—if I had to spend one more moment alone, I would have gone crazy!” She threw a sideways glance at where Fern was still standing with Prince Accolon. He looked at her in the same moment and flashed her a grin.

“Where have you been?” Luca asked, giving her hand a squeeze.

“I woke up on a cliff face!” Jane laughed. “I was about to fall off! Then we had to get to the bottom of this huge mountain, and we came across this horrible battle, and then we went to the Elvish ice castle—”

“Who is ‘we’?” Luca asked, interrupting her tirade.

“Oh,” Jane smiled, a little flushed. “Fern and I.”

“The prince?” Anna gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “You’ve been hanging out with the most famous,” here she paused to look at him, “gorgeous man in the world?”

Jane frowned. “I didn’t know he was a prince when I met him. He just happened to be on the cliff, and offered to help me.”

“Oh, Jane, you are so lucky,” Anna sighed.

“It’s not like that,” Jane said quickly. “He’s a bit of an idiot, actually. And engaged.”

Prince Accolon walked over and introduced himself to Jane. Luca reluctantly let go of her hand so that Accolon could shake it.

“Welcome to Amalia,” he said. His face seemed fixed in a permanent frown. He led them into a large room where they could sit down and talk. It seemed they had arrived just in time for a wedding and a coronation.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to rank higher than me!” Fern said, giving his younger sister a hug. She laughed. Elixia had the most enormous green eyes and Jane couldn’t help but stare at her youthful face.

“It’s nice to see you again, Jane,” the girl said to her. “I hope my brother has been taking care of you?”

Jane looked at Fern and couldn’t help but smile. “He’s been trying.”

“Jane doesn’t need looking after,” Fern muttered. “She’s a terror.”

“Are you honestly going to be the High Queen after tonight?” Jane asked Elixia.

The younger girl shrugged. “It seems so.”

“But ... you are so young!”

Elixia smiled. “We are all servants of duty. It cares not for our lost youth.”

“There is a matter,” Accolon said loudly, breaking into their conversation, “that will need addressing first thing in the morning. I invite you all to discuss it, for it involves every country in Paragor. I only wish there was a representative from Tirana.”

“Saish is from Tirana,” Ria cut in.

Accolon frowned. “He is a servant. He cannot be present for a council.”

Saish cleared his throat. “I think it may be time for me to tell you who I really am.

“I have been travelling through Cynis Witron under a false name. I have my reasons for this, and I would rather not explain them all now and waste time, but know that my true name is Liam, eldest son of Darknor.”

Accolon and Fern stared at him with wide eyes.

“Then you are the Emperor of the Sands of Anuk?” Fern asked with the tiniest hint of child-like awe and Jane gave him a surprised smile. He noticed and rolled his eyes at her.

“I am,” Liam replied calmly. He no longer seemed at all slow. He turned to Ria and said, “I am sorry to have deceived you. It was not the way a true friend acts, but you must believe that I now consider you to be exactly that, and I hope you feel the same about me. I only did what I did through necessity.” He paused for a moment, and seemed to struggle for the right words. “There is a bond between us after seeing the things that we did, and I will never be the one to break it.” There was more than one raised eyebrow after he said that, and though Ria blushed, she was evidently touched.

The emperor turned to the group and continued. “The Kabduh from the Sands of Anuk have a seer. Each year, and only once a year, he will tell us if the year to come will hold peace or war. After such a long period of peace, we were shocked to find that the coming year would bring the most destructive war Paragor has seen for thousands of years. That is all we were told. I needed passage to Uns Lapodis and Cynis Witron to see what I could learn of this war. I played servant for Ria because it allowed me to travel widely and learn of the coming trouble. I had no idea that I would be so fortunate as to come across Prince Fern and arrive at a war council. Now that you know who I am, I would ask to be present at your meeting in the morning.”