The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) (82 page)

“We cannot prove it. But, yes. There is no-one else who could have achieved the…effect.”

“Then you have hidden the Chandara in order to safeguard them?”

The woman in white nodded. “Yes.”

“However, circumstances have now changed,” Keris pointed out. “Boxx is gone. If I cannot contact the Chandara, then the instrument you have preserved for us will be useless. The Unan-Chinneroth will ultimately destroy both races, Kelanni and Chandara. Do you think that is the outcome Annata would have wanted?”

“No,” Annata agreed. “Nevertheless, I am still a machine. I cannot exceed my programming. The override condition must be met.”

“But when the Unan-Chinneroth has been defeated, the threat to the Chandara will have passed.”

Annata clasped her hands together and stared at the table. “Not good enough. The Unan-Chinneroth could return from the stars and exact vengeance on the Chandara. And we would be responsible.”

“Then I will meet your condition,” Keris declared. “If we do not succeed, then I will be dead and your knowledge will die with me. If we do succeed, then I will take each of the four parts of your instrument and destroy them one by one. Then finally, I will destroy myself. And again the knowledge will be lost.”

Annata looked up from the table and regarded the other woman intensely. “You would do this?”

Keris smiled. “To save two races? It’s a small enough price to pay, wouldn’t you say?”

“Very well.” Annata closed her eyes and her face became impassive.

Keris waited. She could hear the drone of flying machines far above and the rumble of the city far below. A faint wind rustled the leaves in the trees laden with their purple fruits. Finally she broke the silence. “Are you all right?”

Annata opened her eyes. “The override program is being rejected.”

Before Keris could speak, the air on top of the table congealed to form a sheet of paper, and a writing implement appeared in the smaller woman’s hand. She began writing at preternatural speed, her hand a blur. Suddenly, she froze, her eyes wide as if she had just been run through with a sword. She screamed.
A blinding flash of light.
Then Keris found herself standing in the room in the library once more–bare grey walls lit with a soft illumination emanating from the ceiling. Annata, the patio, the fruit trees, the stately towers and elegant spires of the great city of Kynedyr–all gone. Then she saw it. A single sheet of paper fluttering to the ground. Keris walked forward and picked it up. It was a map. A map to the last secret refuge of the Chandara in this world. Keris blinked tears away.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry I called you a coward. I was wrong. You were indeed worthy of the name…Annata.

The door to the room slid open. She turned to see Patris standing beyond the entrance. Keris composed herself and stuffed the map into her tunic, then strode out into the immensity of the atrium once more. “What happened in there? What did you do?” Patris demanded.

Keris ignored his question. “I’m sorry, but it is necessary for me to continue my present journey alone. I would suggest that you make for the town of Kieroth on the other side of these mountains. There is a building just outside of the town called ‘observatory’. Ask for Lyall and Alondo. You will be safe there until I return.”

Keris proceeded across the floor of the atrium and out through the open doors, leading to what was once a proud and beautiful city. Patris hurried after her, halting at the broken library steps. “Where are you going?” he called out after her.

Keris did not break her stride or look back. “To get what I need to finish this.”

<><><><><>

Chapter 23

A silver dart flashed over the Atarah Lowlands. Course erratic. Losing height. One of its engines sputtered and coughed. A thin trail of grey smoke tapered from its port side. It came in low, narrowly clearing a small rise, then swooping down. Its nose impacted the ground with a dull thud, sending up a cloud of snow. The craft skidded a short distance before coming to rest. The engines died away to silence. Moments later, the cockpit popped open and a slight figure climbed onto the engine housing, then hopped lightly to the ground, followed by a smaller shelled creature.

The figure turned to face the aircraft’s other occupant, hands on hips, head jutted forward. “What was
that
?”

Rael, boy mathematician and pilot of their stolen transport, stood and stepped over the side of the cockpit. “We’re down in one piece, aren’t we?”

“Barely,” Shann retorted. “I feel like I just spent the afternoon getting bounced around in a washtub. What are the chances of getting us airborne again?”

“What, you mean mathematically?”

“Don’t try and be clever,” she snapped.

He jumped down beside her. “Sorry.” He walked around to the port side with Shann dogging his steps, waved away a cloud of residual smoke, and began to poke inside the engine housing.”

Shann waited until she could stand it no longer. “Well?”

His head reappeared. “How do you feel about taking a walk?”

“You’re kidding,” she said.

“I told you before, I’m not an avionics engineer. My jury rigging has reached its limit. It’d take a team of engineers to get this thing flying again.” He pointed northeast-wards. “Lechem is that way. Based on our current position, I estimate it will take us about two ornahs. If we leave now, we should be there before dark.”

“Terrific.” Shann turned and stomped away in the direction the boy had indicated, Boxx trotting along beside her.

Rael had to run to catch up. “I don’t understand why you’re so annoyed.”

“I am ‘annoyed’, as you put it, because you insisted on trying to fly that thing yourself, rather than turn the controls over to me like I asked.”

The lanky boy threw his arms in the air. “But you’ve only piloted it once before.”

“Yes, and on that occasion, if you recall, I ended up outmanoeuvring an attacking vessel and saving both our lives.”

“I remember,” he said.

“Then how is it that you suddenly think I’m incapable?”

Rael trudged after her across the thin covering of snow. “I don’t think you’re incapable, Shann. It’s just that I’ve piloted avionics over thousands of met-ryns. The engine was damaged. I just thought–”

“Yes, well let me tell you, your piloting skills leave a lot to be desired. I don’t recall you pushing off lodestone once since we cleared the mountain.”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” he said. “We were safe by then. Besides, we needed to land out of sight of the town to begin with.”

She stopped to face him and put her nose in the air. “And why is that?”

“Have you forgotten about Boxx? We can’t just walk into Lechem with a Chandara in tow. Remember the uproar that ensued when you and Boxx first arrived in Kieroth? Of course, that’s probably nothing compared with what my father would say.”

She looked down at the little creature at her feet. It did not appear concerned that its fate was being discussed. “What do you intend to do with it?”

“There’s an old barn on my cousin’s property not far from the town. I used to play there as a child. I know a place where it will be warm and safe. It should only be for one night. I want to get going again as early as possible tomorrow.”

“So you say.” She turned and marched on, making small footprints in the thin, crisp covering of snow.

Rael caught up to her with his long gait and walked alongside. “You know what your problem is? You just can’t stand not being in control.”

“That is not true,” she protested. “I was content to follow Lyall. But he trusted me and didn’t treat me like a child. Your trouble is that you think being clever with numbers makes you an expert at everything else. It doesn’t.”

“I know that.”

Shann had been expecting some quick riposte, but instead, the boy suddenly deflated as if there were no fight left in him. She felt a pang of guilt. “What’s the matter?”

He was silent for some moments. She was on the point of repeating her question when he suddenly spoke. It was the last thing she expected him to say. “I want you to teach me how to use your cloak and staff.”

“What…? Why?”

“Before…on the mountain, when the murghal attacked. I was…helpless. I had to have a girl protect me.”

“What does my gender have to do with it?” she asked.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just that I felt useless, that’s all.”

Shann looked across at him. He was studying the ground as usual. “Rael, it was you who figured out how lodestone grenades work and then proceeded to make them out of broken artefacts and bits of ancient machinery. If you hadn’t done that, we would still be up in that tower, slowly freezing to death.”

“I know. But I would still like to learn. Will you teach me–please?”

She sighed. “Well, I only have the one cloak and staff. And my own skills are…limited. I didn’t train for very long.” He was looking down at her. She could see that he was in earnest. “All right, all right. Maybe we’ll find some time for training during our journey. How much farther is it to the place Boxx indicated?”

Rael considered. “Twenty-five met-ryns–thirty, maybe.”

“How far is that?” she asked.

“A ryn is the length of a pendulum whose period of arc–the time taken for one swing–is one tenth of a dahn. A met-ryn is a thousand of those,” Rael said.

“Wouldn’t the speed of the pendulum depend on the weight you put on the end of it?”

Rael smiled. “No, Shann. It wouldn’t.”

Clearly there were some things about this world she would never understand. Rael himself being one of them. There were times when he behaved strangely, and other times when he could be smug and irritating, but Shann had to admit that she did not know what she would have done without him. Truthfully, she was glad to have him as her guide–her friend. “So, tell me about your parents.”

Rael’s smile vanished like the suns passing behind a dark cloud. He continued walking beside her in silence across the featureless white landscape.

~

It had been a short detour to the smallholding owned by Rael’s cousin. Rael was right, of course. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of the scene that first morning in Kieroth when she and Boxx had been discovered. Nevertheless, she hated the thought of leaving it out here on its own, even though Rael kept insisting that it would be quite safe.

“Won’t your cousin be curious?” she asked.

Rael smiled. “I’m sure he would, if I had any intentions of telling him.”

“You’re not going to tell him?”

“If I told him, he’d want to know everything. And a day later it’d be all around town. Trust me it’s better this way.”

“But what if he goes there and finds Boxx by accident?” she protested.

“It’s the middle of winter. The barn isn’t being used right now. There’s no reason for him to visit it.”

“What about children?”

Rael shook his head. “No children would be playing this far out of town, especially after sunset. Boxx will be fine here. You just need to explain to it that it needs to stay put.”

They opened a crack in the wide double doors and squeezed into the slatted wooden structure. It was ramshackle but dry. A ladder gave access to an upper level.

“Can it climb ladders?” Rael asked.

“It’s a forest dweller,” she pointed out. “They climb trees.”

“Of course,” he said. “Silly question.”

Rael ascended the ladder first, testing the aged rungs one by one. He disappeared over the top, then reappeared and signalled for the others to follow. Boxx scampered up the ladder, followed by Shann, who accepted Rael’s helping hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. A wide loft extended out onto an empty forebay, covered by nothing more than a few piles of golden straw. The floorboards creaked under their weight. Boxx stood up on its hind legs, looking up at Shann expectantly. She got down on her haunches and addressed the creature on its level. “You have to stay here tonight, all right?”

Its round face was devoid of expression. “I Must Stay Here.”

“That’s right,” she said. “We will be back for you tomorrow morning.” She looked up at Rael, who nodded his head in confirmation. “We have to leave it something.” She started rummaging around in her pack. “Do you have any food at all?” she asked him.