The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection (188 page)

That hadn’t been the only revelation of Nai’s to stun Amber. That Zhia herself had been party to the conversation he’d had with the duchess, courtesy of Lady Kinna’s eyes, had also come as something of a surprise. He didn’t know who the child was, or the big sergeant, Kayel. All Nai could tell was that there was some link between the two of them - it was fading with time, but there was a clear residue of some magic that had been done. Similarly, the information that Legana, the Farlan spy, had killed Mikiss in their rented rooms was given without explanation. Nai had claimed the Lady herself had been present in their rooms, only a few days before she had been killed in the Temple District.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Amber began slowly. ‘This link, it’s fading, right?’ Nai looked up from his bowl of bitter tea and nodded. ‘Can you do anything to increase its strength?’

Nai pursed his lips in thought. ‘Mostly likely it would probably replicate the spell.’

‘Didn’t seem to hurt the first time round,’ he said dismissively, ‘and I reckon this link might come in useful, so I don’t want to lose it.’

‘It’s not going to disappear any time in the next month,’ Nai said with a shake of the head. ‘The spell is ended and there’s nothing draining the energy other than normal attrition.’

‘Good, Lord Styrax might be keen to keep track of that sergeant.’

‘Why?’

‘Do you remember when we were taken by Zhia? When that lost lamb of hers, Doranei, came to visit he was looking for someone in particular, someone he was sure had been seen going into that house. I always thought it was just too convenient that we got hit the first night we were there.’

‘You don’t think it was simply mistaken identity?’

‘Who attacks a necromancer without making damn sure there’s a good reason?’

Nai nodded. ‘And if you were leading someone to attack a necromancer - whether to set them against each other or just poke a stick in the hornet’s nest - you’d not rely on a passing similarity, not if you had the skill to make sure.’

‘That King’s Man always gave me a strange look when he thought I wasn’t looking. Never liked to have me behind him. I noticed that. What if that was because of the link? What if he was reminded of Kayel every time he looked at me, and Kayel’s someone he wants to kill?’

‘So who is Kayel?’

‘Haven’t got that far,’ Amber admitted, ‘but according to Doranei, Azaer was behind everything in Scree. Not sure if I believe that, but he did.’

‘Kayel is a disciple of Azaer?’ Nai mused. ‘Lord Styrax would certainly be interested to hear that whatever part the shadow is playing.’

Amber’s face became glum. ‘Let’s hope Kayel don’t find out in time. Gods, I hate having my swords out of reach.’

The journey into the mountain turned out to be encouragingly uneventful. Amber and Nai went directly to Kiyer’s shrine at the back of the Ruby Tower, then had to wait for over an hour before anyone else turned up. The two soldiers posted at their door had followed them, but made no attempt to restrict their movements. Nai was reluctant to enter at first. He told Amber that the shrine had been de-consecrated, that there was no fragment of the spirit of the Goddess residing there any longer. Unsure what to make of the information, Amber had ended up pacing the room and muttering to himself until the duchess and her small entourage arrived.

When she did finally appear, the duchess was resplendent in a riding dress of emerald and cream, and a glowing firegem the size of a quail’s egg was hanging from her neck. Oddly, she wore a dirk at her hip, hanging alongside a green cloth bag of similar length.

‘The guardians of the library demand you hand over your weapons before you enter the grounds,’ she explained, seeing Amber note the weapon. ‘The first time I went unarmed the poor fool looked like a lost puppy when I gave him nothing; it cheers them up to have something to be officious over.’

‘What about my weapons?’ Amber asked as the little boy from the throne room trotted in. He was wearing a miniature guardsman uniform, and much to Amber’s surprise he was gently ushered over to the duchess by the savage-looking Sergeant Kayel.

The duchess pointed to Kayel and Amber saw the man had a long wrapped bundle in one hand. ‘Kayel has them.’

On cue Kayel slung the strap over his shoulder, all the while keeping his sword-hand free and near the grip of his bastard sword. Keeping his eyes on Amber, the sergeant produced a key and locked the shrine door behind them, handing the key to the duchess. Now that Amber was paying attention he saw the sparkle of gems set into the hilt of Kayel’s sword.

He wears that and still they think him a sergeant? What’s wrong with these people?

‘You’re bringing your child? We’ll be walking for miles.’

‘Ruhen comes with me,’ she replied fiercely, bringing the boy close to her side. ‘He is a perfect child, and will not complain.’

Amber didn’t push the matter, a little taken aback by the passion of her reaction. ‘No Lady Kinna?’

Her expression softened as soon as the subject was diverted. ‘Lady Kinna will not be necessary; we keep these trips to a minimum number. Sergeant Kayel will come along to keep an eye on you, and he will carry Ruhen, should he tire. Now, Major, if you please; that stone font should slide towards me quite easily.’

The Menin soldier set to work, noting the grooved track in the floor. He gripped the ornate handles bolted into the font’s sides. The font had a wide basin to catch the water Amber guessed was poured to accompany prayers. In keeping with the theme of lapsed piety, the silver jug he would have expected to see in the shrine had disappeared, doubtlessly stolen once the chapel had been de-consecrated.

The font’s large square base concealed a wrought-iron spiral stair leading down to an unimpressive passageway. As the duchess walked to the top step she produced what looked like a small iron mace from the cloth bag, except bound within the head was a piece of cloudy quartz shaped like an egg. Extending past the egg were two steel prongs that appeared to be a tuning fork - and indeed, now the duchess was tapping the prongs delicately on the wall. As the note rang out the quartz began to cast a bright bluish light over the room. She handed the strange implement to Sergeant Kayel and produced another for herself.

‘Far more practical than pitch-soaked torches,’ she said as she reached the bottom of the steps. ‘Do remember to keep up; you’ll find it terribly dark by yourselves down there.’

Amber didn’t reply. He had a tinder-kit and candles, in addition to Nai’s magery - but there was only one passage leading to the library, so they didn’t have much choice anyway. He quickly caught them up and moved ahead as Kayel stepped to one side and motioned him to pass so he could be watched.

The passage through the mountain, two yards wide and at least seven high at its peak, was so smooth it had to have been magically made. It sloped down for about fifty yards before turning sharply right, heading south-east towards the library, and beginning a long climb upwards. Setting a brisk pace and trying hard not to think about the countless tons of rock above, Amber headed into the darkness.

After an hour the passageway ended in another sharp right turn. Past the corner, Amber found a tall pair of doors secured by a brass latch. Opening them he found an identical pair five yards further on, except the second set didn’t budge when he tried them.

‘They’re barred,’ the duchess told him as Kayel set Ruhen down on the ground and shut the first pair of doors behind them. ‘There is a chain by your servant’s shoulder, pull it and you will signal our presence.’

Amber did as he was told. A bell pealed solemnly from somewhere above the door, and within a minute he heard the clunk of bolts being withdrawn. The door jerked open and light flooded the room. For a moment Amber couldn’t see anything, then he made out an indistinct white shape standing in front of him.

Despite knowing what to expect he still gave a cough of surprise. The Litse white-eye was tall and slender, except for a chest deep enough to rival a Chetse’s, and hair nearly as white as his skin -but that all paled into insignificance when set against the crucial difference between Litse white-eyes and all others: the pair of grey-speckled wings neatly folded on his back.

‘Natai Escral, Duchess of Byora, welcome,’ the man intoned, his expression blank. ‘Please hand me your weapons.’

‘Good morning, Kiallas,’ the duchess replied breezily, unbuckling her dirk, and handing it to him. ‘How fares life in the library?’

Kayel looked less than pleased as he handed over his weapons and the bundle containing Amber’s scimitars, but the only reaction Kiallas gave was to frown when Amber had nothing to hand over.

‘The library endures as it always has,’ Kiallas replied, disinterested. He didn’t look like much of a scholar; his breastplate of shining steel had the rune of Hit, God of the Wind, emblazoned upon it. Intricate scroll-work detailed the edges of his breastplate, his vambraces and greaves, and the latter were topped with a small wing-shape that protected his knees.

A quiver full of javelins hung from his belt, but Amber was more interested in the pole-arm resting comfortably on his shoulder. Not as long as most spears, it had a curved head the length of a short sword; the major, trained to fight with scimitars, could well imagine Kiallas in flight, this weapon slashing beneath him.

‘Still as engaging as ever I see,’ the duchess said with forced cheer as she made her way around the white-eye and out into the daylight. ‘This view, however, more than makes up for the lack of conversation.’ She stretched her arms up and took in a deep breath before turning to look for Ruhen. ‘My dear, come and see the Library of the Seasons.’

Amber and Kayel followed the boy out as Kiallas turned to descend the grey stone steps cut into the bedrock that led down to a stretch of meadow and a low-walled garden full of withered brown plants that a wingless boy was hoeing without apparent impact. Beyond that was the first of half-a-dozen enormous white-stone buildings that Amber now saw dotted the whole crater-like opening.

There were vertical cliffs on all sides, hemming in a space Amber guessed to be more than half a mile across - a valley like a dented bowl sheltered by the surrounding cliffs. Looking down on it all was the black dragon-tooth of Blackfang’s single peak, rising from the apex of the valley’s dented wall. He could hear falling water, and he saw the thin blade of a river flash behind the largest of the buildings, a huge six-sided construction with a green-furred copper dome and wings extending from three of the sides like an crippled insect.

None of the buildings were even remotely similar to each other. The nearest to the party was low and wide, with half of the second floor exposed to the elements. Furthest away, stepped levels crept up the cliff-face beside the enormous double-archway that led down into the Ismess quarter of the Circle City. There were dozens of figures in white visible, mostly without wings but all blonde - pure-blood Litse. Amber recalled his briefings; it was usually only the white-eyes who carried weapons, but clearly the presence of Lord Styrax and his attendants had stirred them up, for all the adult males nearby were armed, despite looking somewhat awkward.

‘Remarkable,’ Nai said, moving up beside him. He held his hand out, fingers splayed, and moved it through the air as though dipping his fingers into a stream, ‘Nothing, nothing at all.’

‘Looks good to me,’ Kayel commented, grinning evilly at Ruhen as he spoke. ‘I’ll take it.’

‘Nothing at all?’ Amber echoed, ignoring Kayel’s contribution. For a moment he didn’t realise what Nai was talking about. ‘Oh, of course.’

Some unknown quirk in the formation of the library exploited the fact that just as some places were high in background magic, others were starved. The Library of the Seasons was one such place; magic simply would not work there. Try as he might, Nai would find no energies to draw from the air around him.

‘I hadn’t realised it would be like this,’ he said, shivering. ‘The air’s so dry it tastes like sand on the wind. It’s like suddenly having the colour blue erased from your sight.’ Nai looked utterly bewildered; he didn’t even notice the sharp look the duchess gave him.

‘Well, get over it,’ Amber urged him, and forced himself to look away from the awe-inspiring sight. ‘There’s work to do. Kiallas, can you tell me where I’ll find Lord Styrax?’

‘I am to escort you all to the Scholars’ Palace so you may refresh yourselves.’ Kiallas said, pointing to the tall building hugging the cliff-face, seven or eight storeys high with long balconies running the length of each floor. The white-eye looked at Amber with a mixture of disdain and faint contempt.

‘I don’t need an escort,’ Amber said, trying not to let the white-eye arrogance irritate him, ‘just point me in the right direction.’

‘Visitors must be escorted at all times.’

‘Fetch an escort then,’ Amber said shortly. He pointed towards the largest of the buildings, the copper-domed one. It was called the Fearen House, where the library’s collection of grimoires and treatises on magic were housed. If Lord Styrax was anywhere he was most likely to be nosing around those. ‘We’re going that way.’

Amber set off down the steps with Nai trailing along behind. He heard a fluttering sound and another winged white-eye, of lower rank judging by his armour, scampered over. With the sense of a weight lifting, Amber left the duchess and her bodyguard behind, their voices soon fading into the wind. He felt like shaking his body out like a dog, elated to be free of the oppressive tunnel and unpleasant company. It was hard to decide which one unnerved him most: Kayel, with his malevolent demeanour, or Ruhen, with the shadows in his eyes, but the fresh air was all the sweeter for being rid of the pair of them.

‘What’s that?’ Nai asked when they reached the massive building, pointing at a dark stone monument at the base of the steps leading up to the portico. Beyond it was a crescent-shaped hump of ground twice the height of a man and more than twenty yards long.

‘The Failed Argument,’ Amber said, ‘a monument to Kebren. The curved rock is called The Dragon, it’s supposed to be the guardian spirit of the library.’