Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) (18 page)

“Womb” was an appropriate name for the part of the Catacombs we now occupied. It was here that the white wolf Sy-tré was born into the living world. In the year 27 AA the young prophet Krii met a white wolf in this cavern and it never left his side from that day.

They became known throughout the lands for their ability to perform great miracles, inspiring scores of people to join the Kriite faith, known then as the Lightbringers.

Sadly, there were those among the Lightbringers who focused too much on their own light with little understanding of the true calling of the Lightmaker. Through their machinations, Krii was brought to trial for the crime of unauthorized wave use and bonding with an animal. He was slaughtered at the Devil’s Gate on the island of Kaslonica where life first began. That same island was now known as Reltland and was home to the prolific Zeikas.

So tightly were Krii and Sy-tré bonded that the wolf died with him. But that wasn’t the end of their tale. Their adventure continued when, as spirits, they went on to break the seal that separated the Lightmaker from his people.

Afterwards Krii returned to Shamayim, the perfect realm, to be with the Lightmaker. Sy-tré was sent back to Chryne in spirit form and charged with the task of watching over humankind. The third age—the Age of Astors—was declared to have begun at Krii’s birth year.

My quiet reverie was interrupted by voices. Realising a group of people were conversing about me nearby I opened my eyes.

‘Our thanks, Talon,’ said a man to my right, ‘for coming after us. And you, Sarlice.’

Sarlice nodded at him.

‘It was nothing,’ I replied slowly. ‘You would do the same for me.’

I opened my eyes to look at him. He, too, was leaning against the wall with his hands flopped at his side. I recognised him as Kolinar, a herbalist and soapmaker from Jaria. In his thirties, he was a well-featured man with sandy blonde hair and warm brown eyes. Without the characteristic dark skin of my people, Kolinar was from a migrant family of Rada.

‘Aye,’ he agreed, ‘except that I couldn’t have dispelled those wards like you did.’

I reached a hand up to stroke Tiaro. The earring almost seemed to purr through the waves, enjoying the attention. For a few minutes, the only sound in the cave was the gentle crackling of the fire.

‘I just don’t understand why the Zeikas are here,’ Kolinar mused. ‘Why build here in the Land of a Thousand Perils? This is the only place safe from the lava, geysers and mud pools, but they’re Light-touched, and therefore dangerous for many Zeikas.’

‘Perhaps they intend to corrupt the catacombs with their foul magic,’ Ivon suggested. ‘For what purpose I do not know.’

‘They obviously had an interest in Talon,’ said Namal, who was standing with his head in his hands. I was impressed by his ability to master his grief and continue functioning as one of Jaria’s leaders. We needed him now more than ever.

‘But why, then, did they let him escape?’ asked Ofrent. His cat Rada-kin was curled up on his lap, pressing its brown-furred body as close to his leather-clad torso as it could get.

‘What happened to you out there, Talon?’ Namal asked me.

I told my story as briefly as possible, not used to having dozens of people listening to me speak.

‘It seems like they weren’t expecting this much trouble from us,’ Ofrent said.

‘Nor Talon’s ability to banish spirit circles and wards,’ Namal added.

‘By the time those fires got out of control most of us had fought our way out,’ Ivon said. ‘The Zeikas were so busy trying to save their encampment they hardly had time to follow us, much less find Talon amid the chaos.’

‘If they were trying to lure you here, Talon, it seems like a botched attempt,’ Namal concluded. ‘And if they were hoping to have Jarian slaves to help build their new fortress here, they have been disappointed.’

‘That murderer, Regar, did anyone see him?’ I asked.

Sarlice stirred beside me. ‘He is dead, slain by one of Henter’s arrows.’ The Lythian stroked her warbow affectionately, the black wood shining orange in the firelight. It took me a moment to realise she was referring to her Tolite-kin by name.

‘Many Zeikas died this night,’ Namal said, ‘but this is far from victory. More will come.’

A woman by the fire, Sefrel, turned to face him. ‘And where does that leave us?’

‘Leaving Jaria,’ Ivon stated bleakly. Having grown up in Ubu he knew what it meant to be a Rada in a non-Rada society. If we were forced to leave Jaria would we lose our identity as a race? Become like all the other Rada who were scattered throughout Chryne? Mostly they lived like ordinary people, and expected their Rada-kin to fit in with a city lifestyle. Those who were awake looked sharply in Ivon’s direction.

‘They can’t just boot us out of our splittin’ homeland!’ a man across from him responded indignantly.

Angry voices echoed in the chamber.

‘We could stay here,’ a younger voice suggested.

‘We’ll petition the king,’ said another.

Others commented, but my concentration was waning. It seemed to me that even if we could increase the defences around Jaria village there weren’t enough warriors to protect the herds and farms. By its very nature, our home was spread out, using most of the realm of Jaria, not just the village.

Though it was possible to go deeper into the catacombs it would be easier for us to sneak home through the forest. I’d tried to follow other tunnels, once or twice, when I was younger, but they were too complex—a torch of embers or an oil lamp only lasted so long.

One such torch was being waved in front of my face with Namal standing before me.

‘Do you have the strength to walk with me?’ he asked.

I swallowed my first response and nodded politely. When I climbed to my feet, Rekala lifted her head and whine-growled.

‘I won’t be long,’
I promised.

She wanted to follow me, but she was beyond exhaustion.

Namal lead me deep into the catacombs where the pearly glow gradually faded. Soon all we could see was the flickering light of the torchfire on the walls, and our silhouettes in stark relief. Namal went unerringly down one tunnel and another, choosing with absolute certainty which way to go when it branched.

‘Have you explored these caves before?’ Namal asked.

‘Not this part of the catacombs, no. I visited the Womb a few times when I was younger, with Ella.’

‘You and your sister were close?’ It was more of a statement than a query. Namal was old enough to be among those who’d known me from birth, which was part of the reason I was so open with him.

I shrugged. ‘Why? Is there something down here of significance to Ella?’

Namal met my eyes as we walked, ‘Well yes, she knew about it. The Womb is the birthplace of the Rada, but deeper in is home to something much older, one of the few remaining Ancient Sapphire Trees.’

My eyes widened. An Ancient Sapphire Tree was even more special than a Great Sapphire Tree.

‘It is one of only nine remaining on Chryne,’ Namal went on, ‘the nine original trees from which all the lesser Sapphire Trees are spawned.’

I stared at him. ‘Can we see it?’

He gestured ahead with the torch. ‘That’s where I’m taking you. I thought you’d be interested.’

‘I am. Why haven’t I been told of it before?’

There was a slightly blue glow in the darkness ahead of us.

Namal put his hand across my shoulders, ‘Ah, now that is hopefully obvious.’

I sniffed, masking my frustration. From what I knew of sapphire trees they were sought after by weapon-smiths, armourers, jewellers, sculptors, collectors and more. The nine remaining Ancient Sapphire Trees were said to be impervious to human devices because they were among the countless original trees that were set down at the dawn of creation by the Lightmaker himself. Only if an Ancient gave up one of its leaves
willingly
could any item be crafted from it.

‘The Ancient Sapphire Trees are indestructible,’ I said. ‘Why would you need to hide its location?’

‘Not to protect
it
,’ Namal answered, ‘but to protect its spawn.’

As he said that, we rounded a sweeping bend and the blue light suddenly became a glowing miasma. Namal extinguished the torch and rested it on a stone table set into the wall. Before us was a forest of sapphire trees, spread out in a massive cavern even bigger than the Womb. Just like the Great Sapphire Tree near Jaria, these were as hard as rock from trunk to branch to leaf. The sapphire-like leaves glowed and throbbed with sap, and each tree was easily twice my height.

We walked among them for a while, and I noticed there was a faint sound in the air, like whirring and chiming. The cavern smelt like rich, dark earth, and the floor was slick with moisture. It felt like soil beneath my boots, not rock. Tiaro revelled in the presence of the trees, one of which might have been her ancestor.

It seemed possible that the earring had been fashioned from the leaf of one of these very trees—my mother or father might have come here to harvest it. I wondered if they had somehow known that I would become an Anzaii like my mother and sister. Emotions rose, almost choking me.

‘Why did you bring me here?’ I asked.

He stroked the shiny trunk of a tree. ‘Only the prime and a handful of others are aware of the Ancient Tree’s existence. Traditionally, it has been a secret kept between the prime, the elders and Jaria’s Anzaii. Your mother and sister took their responsibilities seriously, which is why you were never told about this spawning ground.’

I could only frown in frustration.

‘Feera was the sole surviving Anzaii, after Ella and the others were captured, as you know.’

‘Aye?’

‘Now that she, too, has been parted from us,’ Namal began carefully, ‘you are Jaria’s only Anzaii. Some will want you to take up the mantle and serve as those before you served.’

The honour of being Jaria’s appointed Anzaii leader was more than I had ever dreamed, but I felt a certain aversion to being harnessed so soon after coming into my new abilities. Having just met Rekala and Tiaro it seemed there was a world of possibility for me now. I realised that my desire to find out what was going on beyond Jaria’s borders had doubled.

‘I should not like to disappoint my leaders,’ I said carefully.

‘I said “some”,’ he reminded me. ‘Your leaders may not have decided what to do with you yet.’

Do with me? Am I chattel?

‘And what do you think I should do?’ I responded stiffly.

Namal continued walking, glancing at me over his shoulder.

‘I think you should heed Sy-tré,’ he said, ‘and follow your heart.’

We had arrived at the foot of the biggest sapphire tree yet. Its trunk was wider than me, even with my arms out straight. The branches towered above me with leaves as big as saddles. When I rested my hand against its trunk, a burst of sensation went through my mind. Tiaro screamed in alarm as hundreds of voices and emotions overwhelmed me. I collapsed to the ground, completely absorbed in the waves.

Here was Namal. There were the Jarians—including Sarlice and Ivon—all the Rada-kin and a number of bonded weapons, Tolite-kin. Further away were specks of floating darkness. Masses of resentful, murderous thought, scheming and complaining, eating, rutting and praying to their many gods—Zeikas!

‘I can sense them,’ I exclaimed. ‘The Zeikas.’

Namal was crouched on the ground beside me, peering intently at me. ‘Do not touch it again.’

‘I won’t.’

The burst of insight faded, leaving echoes of thought in my mind. It had been far too much information for me to process; a barrage of words and images continued to range through my conscious mind, making little sense. I breathed hoarsely in and out.

‘This is the power of an Ancient Sapphire Tree?’ I sputtered, after a while.

‘Yes,’ Namal said slowly. His voice was a little high-pitched, like someone was squeezing him around the middle. ‘And it is too much for most Anzaii to bear. I am amazed that you were able to discern the Zeikas.’

‘I, too, am astonished,’
Tiaro said.

‘This tree gave up a leaf to us once,’ Namal said. ‘And an item was fashioned from it by Zoen of Watercrag. It has been in our keeping for generations, passed from Anzaii to Anzaii. In days past, when there was more than one Anzaii in Jaria, the best of them was declared “Wave Master” and took care of Jaria’s Anzaii artefact. Feera’s time is over and it seems your time has come.’

I picked myself up, staring at him. ‘Are you making me the Wave Master of Jaria?’

‘Nay—it is not my decision to do that, but seeing as you are Jaria’s only Anzaii now you are entitled to carry the belt. That is written in the Codes of Jaria.’

He handed me the belt of black leather that I had last seen around Feera’s waist. On closer inspection I realised that the jewels it was encrusted with were thick shards of sapphire tree leaf.

Following my gaze, Namal said, ‘They’re made from one of the Ancient Sapphire Tree’s leaves. Hundreds of years ago the Anzaii wore entire suits of leafshard armour, but those were crafted from Great Sapphire Trees. This is something even rarer.’

The shards were as tough as rock, but flexed with the leather. Dark channels of the tree’s sap glued it all together. By my reckoning, this belt would be impervious to blade and fire.

‘You entrust this to me?’ I asked in disbelief.

‘Yes,’ Namal said. ‘It is law.’

‘Surprising that the Zeikas didn’t steal it from you.’

‘They daren’t, for these are holy trees and the belt a holy artefact.’

I thought again of the reversed corpse I had seen in the Zeika camp. It had only been demonic powers that had kept that Zeika alive. Contact with a holy artefact would have a chance of making the demons flee.

‘Imagine a leafshard sword, Tiaro!’
I exclaimed mentally.
‘It would kill Zeikas past the span of normal human years with the lightest touch.’

The earring hummed a warning, vibrating in my ear.

‘Such power is only to be wielded by the most trusted of Krii’s servants. You are wise for your age, but you have much to learn.’