The Path of the Storm (6 page)

The smell of burning grew stronger.

Ella thought furiously, wondering how she could force everyone away from the shrine. Her eyes rested on Miro's zenblade. She knew the activation sequences for Miro's sword. She'd made it herself.

Something terrible was going to happen.

Ella called the words that would call the zenblade to life, chanting, her voice rising in strength. Under the scabbard the activation rune would be lighting up, red lines travelling from one symbol to the next, colours changing, moving through the spectrum.

Amber had only moments ago exchanged Miro's flower with the sword. Ella was directly behind Amber, and the zenblade heard Ella's call. She didn't want to burn Miro's hands off, but she wanted to clear the area. Fast.

Miro cried out and dropped the zenblade as the scabbard melted away. An impossibly bright searing light shone from the sword. Then came the sound: Ella had chosen it to be the most disruptive sound the sword could produce. The deafening noise was terrible to hear.

Those in the distant crowd who thought it part of the show clapped their hands with delight, but many shook their heads and clapped their hands to their ears.

On the riverbank where the wedding was taking place, it was pandemonium.

The guests fled the area, chairs upturned and hands held to heads. Looking at the shrine, Ella saw smoke pouring out in a widening plume. Igniting flames made the danger unmistakeable.

Time slowed.

Bartolo grabbed Miro and pulled him away, activating his armoursilk and enfolding his friend in his arms as he did.

Rorelan lunged for Tomas and lifted the child in his arms.

Ella took Amber's arm and ran, tumbling them both into the walled pool of a fountain.

Behind them, the shrine exploded.

It was unlike anything Ella had ever experienced; the explosion was concussive and forceful, almost primal, like a volcano erupting.

Above it all, Amber's scream stayed with her.

"Tomas!"

4

F
ATHER
Morten died instantly in the strange blast. His body was burnt beyond recognition, flesh charred and eyes ruined. The fleeing guests were saved, with a wide black circle scorched into the earth where the closest had once been seated.

Bartolo and Ella's swift actions led to both Miro and Amber escaping unharmed.

High Lord Rorelan, after taking Tomas in his arms, caught only the edge of the blast as he fled. His back was red and raw. Nestled as he was in Rorelan's embrace, Tomas was blessedly unscathed, although the backs of the child's little legs were mottled with crimson and purple.

Yet that was the end of the good news. Rorelan and Tomas were both vomiting blood, and white spots appeared on their fingernails. Investigators discovered a yellow residue on the scorched earth, and the same sickly colour surfaced on the wounds of both man and child.

Miro ordered the city of Sarostar locked down, with soldiers blocking the exits and patrolling the streets. But the messenger who had claimed to be from Evrin Evenstar was long gone, and with no rationale behind who stood to gain from such a deadly attack against the Empire, a plan of inquiry had yet to be formulated.

As the days passed, Miro considered refusing the guests permission to leave, but Rogan talked him out of it. The guests were a target as much as anyone else and suspicions were already growing between them. Some of the dignitaries pointed to the fact that the Veznans hadn't come to the wedding, while others whispered about the seating plan, marking out those who were conveniently placed far from the blast. Better that they go; Rogan's difficult task of keeping the Empire together was now made even more so.

After offering Miro and Amber their sympathies, the dignitaries left Sarostar in small groups and large contingents. Miro was forced to be polite and respectful, thanking them for their support and for travelling what for some had been a very long distance. Miro was surprised by the sincerity of Dain Barden Mensk of the Akari, while High Lord Tiesto of Halaran was one of the last to leave, but eventually even he was called back to his homeland by his responsibilities. Rogan Jarvish had so far stayed, and was a rock Miro could lean on, while Amelia's support of Amber was invaluable.

Initially relieved beyond imagining when Tomas escaped relatively unharmed, Amber was now distraught as her son's condition worsened. Her new husband consoled her, and neither cared that they were now officially married.

As she treated both Rorelan and Tomas in the Crystal Palace, Layla, a skilled healer, said their sickness wasn't natural. When Layla spoke of poison Ella looked down at the ground, unable to meet Amber's eyes as the healer said there was little she could do to help.

Miro dispatched a messenger to Evrin Evenstar, but it would be weeks before the fastest courier could return. No one seriously suspected Evrin, but perhaps he could shed light on the strange blast and even deadlier poison.

With so many mysterious phenomena at hand, and no answers to be found, Ella buried herself in the libraries of the Academy of Enchanters.

~

F
OUR DAYS
passed and Ella had found little to go on. She strode through the Great Court, heading from the Melton Library to the Wrenright Library, her footsteps quick and the sandstone buildings on either side passing her in a blur. She thought about what she knew, so preoccupied she almost ran into a centurion tree, stumbling and walking around it at the last instant.

Ella was quite sure the device utilised a chemical explosive of some kind, which explained why the divination wand hadn't found anything, yet she had never heard of a people with such knowledge of the physical world, easily surpassing the masters of the Academy.

The makers of the device could harness strange forces, combining their explosive with a precision timer and a deadly poison. If someone, anyone, had encountered such mastery of the elements, there was no better place to look than the Academy of Enchanters.

Ella kept running the events of the wedding day through her mind. She didn't know how she'd felt something was wrong, but she'd learned to trust her intuition and this time she hadn't listened. She was terrified of facing Miro and Amber and telling them she'd had a premonition and hadn't said anything.

Looming over the expansive court, the Green Tower was a dark square against the night sky, blotting out the stars. Ella didn't bother reading the glowing hands on the great timepiece. She knew it was late.

In the very centre of the Great Court stood a tall marble statue, newly erected after the war. Given prominence over all the other statues spotting the Academy, this woman had been someone important indeed.

The carved woman wore a hooded dress decorated with a myriad of tiny symbols, although the runes were an artist's interpretation and not the real thing. Her hair was long and straight, flowing to her waist, and in the starlight it didn't take Ella much effort to picture the way it had been, shining silver.

Ella found herself in front of the statue. She looked down and took a deep breath, before gazing up at the face of Evora Guinestor, the late High Enchantress.

"Evora, you always knew what to do. There's something buried in these books that tells me what I need to know. Please, show me the way. You always said perhaps we focussed too much on lore and too little on the physical world. Please, where should I look?"

"I hope she answers you," a voice came from behind Ella.

Layla looked haggard.

"There's nothing I can do," the Dunfolk healer said.

"How… How are they?"

"The man and the child; they're both comatose. All I can do is stabilise them, make sure their bodies continue to receive sustenance. Internally, their bodies slowly fail them. The fluids they expel are tinged with red. I hold little hope."

Ella put her hand to her mouth. "How… How long?"

"The big one, the High Lord, his condition has deteriorated more swiftly. Still, I cannot say. The High Lord can hold on for a few weeks. Not long. The child is more stable, but I do not expect him to wake."

"Lord of the Sky," Ella whispered. "Thank… Thank you, Layla. For trying." She took a deep breath. "Has anyone learned anything new about the attack?"

"They say there was no lore involved, but none know of anything that can create such destruction. The device also projected a powerful poison." Layla shrugged.

"There must be something here to explain it," Ella said, looking out over the buildings of the Academy.

"Yet the wisest of your people do not know the answer. Perhaps you are searching too close to things you already know. Perhaps you need to look farther, to where mysteries still remain."

"What are you saying?" Ella thought about the libraries she'd been searching. She'd been lost in all the treatises on lore, daunted by the volume of information on the peoples of the Tingaran Empire. Should she shift her focus?

"Also, there are those who say you should be with your brother and your friend right now."

Ella sighed. "I have to try. Something here could help them... Tell me, Layla, what do you believe?"

Layla met Ella's gaze. "I trust you, Ella. You are my friend. And I think you might be the only hope of saving that child."

~

I
T WAS
some hours before dawn as Miro walked the corridors of the Academy, looking for his sister.

It was now the fifth night since the wedding, and he'd hardly slept. Rorelan's state had steadily worsened, while Tomas was still and unresponsive. Amber hadn't left her child's side, and Miro needed to see someone, anyone, where he could let himself be sad, rather than strong for his wife's sake.

At this late hour guards patrolled the grounds and halls, and a uniformed soldier started to question Miro, but seeing who he was, let him past with a sympathetic nod of his head. Miro wandered the libraries for hours as he searched for her.

Finally, after pacing endless rows of shelves and waking up half the Academy, Miro had searched all the libraries except one. A librarian pointed him in the direction of the Trenton Exploration Library, which apparently dealt, of all themes, with discovery and travel.

Miro saw the glow of a nightlamp before he rounded a corner and saw his sister, hunched over a desk. Ella pored over the open pages of a book, muttering under her breath and turning the pages so rapidly Miro wondered she had time to scan them.

She obviously hadn't eaten in days; her face was grey and pale, yet there was an animation in her expression Miro recognised immediately. This was the Ella who'd left the temple school at fourteen, yet been admitted to the Academy four years later after a short verbal examination, dazzling the masters in the process.

"Ho, Ella," Miro said wearily.

"Just a moment." Ella looked at Miro and frowned, before turning back to the book.

Nonplussed, Miro looked down at the book she was reading and snorted humourlessly. He could read the title from the top of the page: Toro Marossa's
Explorations
. Toro Marossa's adventures were famous throughout Merralya, yet he'd lived long ago and Miro could see little relevance between the explorer's well-known journal and their plight.

Miro moved to stand closer beside his sister and tried to read the page she had open. Suddenly Ella brought her face close to the page, reading every word as if committing it to memory. She then stopped reading, sighing and closing her eyes momentarily, before smiling and leaning back in her chair. She made way for Miro to see what she'd been reading.

The islands I have come to call the Ochre Isles were once occupied. I have no doubt whatsoever. Abandoned buildings were scattered throughout all three islands, in particular the largest, the one I named Valetta in honour of one who was once dear to me.

We spent most of our time on Valetta. The men thought we were searching for treasure but it was signs of those who were here before I was most interested in.

These people abandoned the isles many years ago yet I knew I had found a new people for the buildings were all of an exotic design. We found several items of interest including a large ocean-going vessel, much larger than our caravels, larger even than a Buchalanti dreadnought. This foreign ship was in a terrible state of repair but fascinating nonetheless. Bronze tubes lined the sides, their purpose unknown, while the ingenuity of its construction was far beyond anything I'd seen.

We abandoned our exploration of the vessel when one of my men discovered some barrels marked with the symbol of a flame. He poured out a strange black powder, ran it between his fingers, and then took quite ill. After vomiting for some time, white spots appeared on his fingernails.

We took him off the ship, but before we left I noticed some of the barrels bore a second symbol beside the flame. The universal language of symbols told me we were being warned the contents of the barrel were poisonous. I instructed my men to stay away from the barrels.

We resumed our explorations elsewhere, first, of course, taking the sailor to the ship's surgeon. The man lingered for a week before recovering.

My first voyage to find what lies across the Great Western Ocean has been a success, yet has opened up more questions than answers. Who were those who built these structures? Why did they abandon these islands? Where did they go? What is this strange black powder? I'm resolved to return to these islands, and to explore farther still…

"I just found it now," Ella said. "I'm sorry it wasn't sooner. I read this book when I was younger, but still, if it wasn't for Layla…"

Miro shook his head. How long had Ella searched to find this one account? "Don't be sorry. Lord of the Sky, I can't believe…"

Ella rubbed her eyes. "I can promise you this chemical explosive isn't mentioned anywhere else in the Academy, and this explains why. We can be certain now that some do recover, and we also know something about where this poison is from. The islands were abandoned when Toro Marossa found them, but that doesn't mean they still are. The creators are out there somewhere — the poison proves it — and they're not in the lands of the Empire."