The Grave Thief: Book Three of The Twilight Reign (64 page)

‘Anything more?’

‘There is some sort of magical link between the duchess’s bodyguard, Sergeant Kayel, and our friend Major Amber.’

‘Curious, I saw nothing of that through Lady Kinna’s eyes.’

‘It is very faint - it is like each carries an echo of the other in their shadow. You would only notice it in the presence of both.’

‘Kayel and Amber,’ Zhia mused. ‘That’s an interesting twist.’

‘You know Kayel?’

‘Only through Kinna’s eyes - but clearly he’s far more than a bullying sergeant. Keep your eyes and ears open. I want you to stay here as long as Styrax does. Make yourself useful in whatever manner you can, and report to me an hour after dusk each day - understand?’

‘I do.’

‘Good.’ She hesitated a moment and her voice softened. ‘Nai, this is more important than you can begin to imagine. You will have to trust me that your safety is best served by keeping me informed. Now go, before you are missed.’

 

Zhia released the stream of magic and sighed, feeling the energies dissipate into the night air. She sat, high up on the cliff, motionless, untouched by the howl of wind, almost as if she were encased in a glass bubble. The piece of rock she sat on was roughly oval, and some ten yards across, the only flat piece of ground in the desolate environment of Blackfang’s upper reaches where it was impossible to travel even fifty feet in any direction without having to climb.

Nothing protruded above the outer ring of cliffs. Within, the surface of the mountain was a jagged wilderness protected from the worst of wind erosion. There were occasional small tufts of grass and patches of moss clinging precariously to the rock, but they were few and far between. Not many birds braved the treacherous gusts and lack of food to nest here; it was a desolate, inaccessible place.

It was a useful place to lurk unmolested.

‘You heard?’ she said after a long pause. She had abandoned her usual silk dress in favour of more practical hunting breeches and tunic, though they were decorated with embroidered sprays of blue flowers. Her long-handled sword was slung across her back, housed in a leather scabbard etched with a pattern that echoed that on her clothes. Furthering the image of martial readiness, her abundant hair was fastened back with long silver pins set with sapphires.

‘I did,’ Koezh replied from the small cave behind her. ‘How far can you trust him?’

‘Not at all.’ A small smile crept onto her lips and she turned to give her brother a look. ‘He’s as honest a man as I know, but with no allegiance except to himself.’

‘So if he finds anything as he walks the perimeter, he’ll tell Lord Styrax.’ Koezh sounded weary. ‘There can only be one reason why Styrax has given him such orders. Whether he knows exactly what he’s looking for or not, he knows the dead space is not natural.’

Zhia agreed, ‘He’s guessed halfway, and he’ll stumble upon the rest.’

A light flared inside the cave, illuminating its cramped interior. Koezh sat upon one bedroll looking at the glass sphere which emitted the light. A small hamper and a few thick leather-bound books were piled beside it. Zhia’s bedding was piled against the opposite wall.

The vampire looked grave. ‘So all we can do is wait.’ He gestured to the few belongings beside him. ‘It’s been a long time since we played camp like this.’

He was ready for battle, dressed in a full suit of ancient black armour, except for the helm and gauntlets, which lay on the rock floor next to him. His hate-filled sword was suspended on a pair of thick iron pins that he’d driven into the rock above his bedroll. Without the ward surrounding her, even Zhia would have found it uncomfortable to look at the weapon Aryn Bwr had instilled with the fury and grief of his heir’s murder.

‘It has been millennia,’ Zhia replied with a slight edge to her voice, ‘and I for one see no reason to repeat it now. It will take him days of research before he can make his move. If you wish to camp out, Prince Koezh, that is entirely your prerogative.’

‘We cannot know how long it will take,’ Koezh replied with a tone of infinite, infuriating patience. ‘You don’t know how far along he starts, and we cannot take any risk. He is not a man we can buy off or threaten as we did Deverk Grast; even if he knew the whole story he would still go through with it. We cannot risk anyone taking possession and we cannot trust the guardian to stop him - quite aside from the destruction it would unleash upon the innocents of Ismess.’ He gestured towards her bedroll. ‘All this you know, so come and sit with me.’

Zhia scowled, falling into long-abandoned habits of the younger sister but well aware that her brother was right.

‘Even if we hand it to him later, we must be sure first,’ she admitted, joining him inside the cave. The icy gusts tore at her clothes for a brief moment while she exchanged one ward for the other. ‘I reserve the right to blame you for a poor night’s sleep, however.’

Koezh inclined his head. ‘Mother always said one must always accept a lady’s blame. I believe the principle holds true even if one suspects it is misplaced anger.’

‘Your meaning?’ Zhia asked coldly.

Her brother smiled. ‘Avoiding a certain young man seems to have put you on edge. It’s all very sweet. Shall I sing to you to help you sleep?’

‘If you do I’ll cut my throat and you can wait by your damn self,’ she snapped, turning away from the laughter on his face.

‘Suicide by petulance; a lesser-know joy of immortality.’

‘Enjoying the morning air?’

Amber turned quickly at the sound of Lord Styrax’s voice.

Gods, I didn’t hear a thing
, he thought, before replying,
‘
Just so, my Lord. A night in Nai’s company is enough to make a man appreciate a bracing breeze.’

‘The air was not fresh in your room?’ Today Lord Styrax had selected the clothes of an officer at leisure: thick black linen tunic with no braids or badges of rank, black breeches, and tall riding boots polished to a high shine. The white-eye may not have been particularly handsome - indeed, people barely noticed his features, and few would be able to describe them. All folk remembered was the power he wore like a mantle.

‘A little ripe, if you’ll forgive the observation, my Lord.’

‘It was the pork - even my stomach thought it a trifle overspiced.’

Even here in the library grounds where no magic could exist, Lord Styrax’s presence was nearly overwhelming. He may have been one of the largest men in the Land, but he carried his size with ease, moving as deftly and neatly as a dancer. Amber believed the inscrutable giant to be something more than human: as if the Gods had finally perfected the model. Even Aryn Bwr could not have inspired more worship than Kastan Styrax.

Lord Styrax walked the few yards to stand beside the major. The Library of Seasons had only one exit, through an enormous gate. The gatehouse was set into the rock and jutted into the road, looking down the entire length of Ilit’s Stair. The arch exploited a natural fissure in the cliff face and square blocks the height of a man shored up the rock. Without gates the library looked remarkably vulnerable, but Ilit’s Stair was two hundred yards of stepped slope more than twenty yards wide, offering no cover whatsoever to those ascending.

The guardians of the library had ensured it was no secret that there were enormous storerooms where, in addition to the weapons belonging to their current guests, there were whole rooms full of arrows - one for every man Deverk Grast had led into Ismess. Whether that was true or not, there were certainly a dozen or more ballistae kept for a similar purpose.

‘Longing for freedom?’ Lord Styrax said, gesturing towards the archway, through which they could see the sparsely wooded hills on the other side of the city and a clear, pale blue sky. It was still early; the sun had risen no more than half an hour ago and the valley remained in shadow. The air was cold and crisp.

It reminded Amber of winter mornings when he had gone hunting with his father and brothers.

‘Just appreciating the view,’ he said eventually. ‘I get a little restless in these gentle surrounds, especially with my men out there without me.’

‘I will keep you busy then. I’ll be in the Fearen House all day, and I shall need someone to attend me.’

‘Of course, my Lord.’ Amber hesitated for a moment, then asked, ‘My Lord, surely Nai would be a better aide? I’ll only be able to contribute by carrying books.’

Lord Styrax nodded. ‘Doubtless true - but never trust a necromancer. Folk might hate my kind for good reason, but we have nothing on the walkers in the dark.’ Styrax’s words immediately reminded Amber of the conversation he’d overheard in Thotel, between the necromancer Isherin Purn, Nai’s master, and Lord Styrax. Without understanding it, Amber had nevertheless recognised there was a subtext to each man’s words, hinting at tensions and allegiances he knew nothing of.

They watched the heads of the guards at the gate turn their way: nervous Litse faces looking like deer that had sensed wolves. The white-eyes were slowest to react. Three of them were facing out towards Ismess, feeling the wind that rose up Ilit’s Stair. One had his wings fully outstretched, though he would have to walk another ten yards or more to be able to fly. As large as they were, those wings would not be capable of lifting a man without magic.

‘Caged birds,’ Styrax said, nodding towards the white-eyes as they finally turned towards them. He appeared to be enjoying their discomfort. ‘They’re bound to this place; conditioned to stare past the bars but never slip through them.’

Amber admitted, ‘I don’t understand these people. Even their white-eyes seem alien to me, and I thought your kind at least would be the same the Land over.’

‘They are a broken tribe, unaware even of their past glories. Without a man or woman of vision, they will wallow another thousand years in this festering place, until inbreeding or war destroys them.’

But which solution will we provide?
Amber wondered as Styrax turned abruptly away, motioning for Amber to accompany him.

It had rained during the night and the ground was muddy, so they headed for the nearest gravel path. Gesh followed behind. The white-eye was dressed as he had been the day before, in formal white robes underneath ceremonial armour. It was strange to see so little colour in a man; with his pale skin, creamy yellow hair and white eyes, Amber thought Gesh hardly looked alive. His slim build and ethereal appearance put Amber in mind of tales of Elves, and the contrasting bright red and green javelins held in an oversized quiver at his hip only added to that unreal image.

‘He’s got some spirit, that one,’ Lord Styrax commented, having followed Amber’s line of sight. They continued down the gravel path as it meandered to follow a stream, then swung back towards the looming Fearen House.

‘Give me some time and I’ll find a way to get to him.’ At Amber’s puzzled expression Styrax gave a laugh. ‘No, not like that! Lord Celao is an embarrassment and a fool; better he chokes on a fishbone and Gesh takes command of Ismess. I will not allow any vassal state to remain so weak.’

‘They’ll never love you,’ Amber said, thinking aloud.

‘True, but neither will they hate me, and their children will grow up knowing who restored their future to them. No, Ismess is a problem I need only time to solve - it is Byora that will require proper thought.’

‘The duchess, Natai Escral, or that bodyguard of hers?’

‘Both of them. Your information reaffirms my belief that Byora is the Circle City’s tipping point, and we’re clearly not the only ones to think that.’

‘This is all beyond my comprehension,’ Amber sighed. ‘How do you second-guess immortals?’

‘In some ways they are simpler to understand; their desires and fears are magnified to a far greater scale. I suspect Zhia is merely keeping herself in the game for the time being. She senses great things are afoot and she knows she must remain on the board if it is ever to be of use to her.’ Styrax clapped a massive hand onto Amber’s shoulder. ‘You did much good in Scree, Major; you played the hand you were given well. Until then Azaer was nothing more than an obscure reference for me; now I see where its schemes have directly involved me. Zhia’s legend also obscured the person behind it, but before the great traitor, before the monster, she remains a person, someone to be known, just like any other.’

Amber nodded. The debriefing when he rejoined the army had been exhaustive and exhausting, at times verging on interrogation as Lord Styrax and General Gaur hungrily deliberated and debated over every conversation and action he could remember.

‘All I heard of Azaer was its legend.’

‘One carefully fostered, but yes, it is Azaer I need to know better before I can understand it. The shadow warned me before I killed Lord Bahl that I would be facing rebellion when I returned. Why? Did it require my conquest to continue apace? Did it want me here as a witness, or had Salen betrayed it? What is it doing in Byora that may require a diversion? That will be your job in the months to come, to run a low-level observation of Byora and tell me what is happening there.’

‘I’m honoured, my Lord.’

‘I doubt you’ll find much honour in it,’ Styrax said with a smile, ‘but you survived Scree and you know what you’re looking for. Don’t worry about your men; you’ll be leading them next time they go into battle.’

‘Thank you, my Lord,’ Amber said, touched that his master understood his need to be with his men when they faced the enemy.

At the entrance to the Fearen House, Lord Styrax stood looking at the oblong monument again. ‘Mysteries upon mysteries, ’ he said aloud. ‘However, the first business of the day is the puzzle of the heart. I take it your skills do not extend to cryptography, Amber?’

Amber shook his head and Lord Styrax clapped him on the back. ‘Never mind; let’s see how fast you learn!’ he said brightly, leading the way up the steps to the main entrance.