When the Heavens Fall (2 page)

The First Guardian's tower was much as Luker remembered it: the open fire; the candles in their holders; the desk with its covering of scrolls. A quill pen lay on a piece of parchment, the last words on the page glistening as the ink dried. The heat felt oppressive after the chill of the Great Hall.

With his back to Luker, First Guardian Gill Treller stood gazing out a window. When he finally turned, Luker saw that the last two years had not been kind to him, for his neatly trimmed beard was shot through with gray and his hairline had retreated a few fingers' widths. He clutched his black robes tightly about him in spite of the heat. But his look still held the same intensity.
And hostility,
Luker realized, frowning.
He's no more pleased to see me than I am to be here.

The usual warm welcome, then.

“What took you so long?” the First Guardian said.

“Good to see you too, Gill.”

“The summons was delivered a week ago. You could have swum from Taradh Dor in that time.”

“You're lucky I came at all.”

“Indeed? I don't recall giving you a choice in the matter.”

Luker shrugged, then crossed to the desk and poured himself a glass of red wine from a decanter.

“Help yourself to wine,” Gill said.

Luker took a sip. “Not bad. A bit young maybe.”

“If I'd known you would arrive today I'd have ordered something more to your taste. Now perhaps we can begin.”

“I've got a question first,” Luker said. “How did you find me?”

“I didn't need to
find
you. I knew exactly where to look.”

“You've been scouting me all this time?”

“That surprises you? A Guardian does not simply disappear, Luker, however much he might wish to. The emperor would not allow it.”

“The emperor?” Luker said, his eyes narrowing. “What's he got to do with this?”

“You thought the summons came from me?” Gill shook his head. “You walked out on us, Luker. Not for the first time, either. If I'd had my way, you'd have been left to rot on Taradh Dor.”

Luker pulled the sheet of parchment from his cloak and tossed it on the floor. “Then why's your seal on the Shroud-cursed scroll? Since when have you been Avallon's errand boy?”

“The emperor judged you would not have come if the summons had been his.”

“Damned right. I don't take orders—”

“I suspect Avallon may see things differently,” Gill interrupted. Pulling a handkerchief from his sleeve he dabbed at his watery eyes. “You'll find much has changed in the time you've been away. The emperor's power has grown. We are all his servants now, whether we like it or not.”

Luker stared at him. Seeing the Sacrosanct's neglect had been surprise enough, but to hear such words from the First Guardian's mouth … “We've really fallen that far?”

“Gods below!” Gill said, throwing up his hands. “Look around you, man! The Sacrosanct is falling into ruin. The Council hasn't convened for more than a year. What would be the point? There are barely a score of us left.”

“Better the Guardians go the way of your hairline than stain their knees before Avallon.”

“You really mean that?”

“Aye.”

“Then why did you answer the summons? Why are you here now?”

Luker swirled the wine in his glass. “Maybe I was just curious.”

“The Abyss you were. You came back because you're one of us. You always will be.”

One of us?
This from the man who would have left him to rot on Taradh Dor? “You're way off the mark, Gill, but I'm not going to argue with you. You can't dress this up as some test of my loyalty. The summons came from the emperor, not you.”

The lines around Gill's eyes tightened, then he turned his back on Luker and looked out the window once more. The silence dragged out. Luker was beginning to think he was dismissed when the First Guardian spoke again. “Did you see the new citadel on your way up from the docks? The Storm Keep.” He pointed. “There, beside the White Lady's temple?”

Luker squinted at him. Just like that, the summons was forgotten? Had the First Guardian conceded defeat already?
No, not Gill.
A new line of attack, then. Luker joined him at the window and looked down on Arkarbour. He hadn't noticed the Storm Keep on his walk from the lower city, but its towers could be made out easily enough through the rain, silhouetted against the twin fires at the entrance to the harbor. They'd been built just tall enough to eclipse the tower he was standing in. A pissing contest in stone.

“You're looking at the stronghold of the Breakers,” Gill said. “You remember them?”

“I know the name. Some squad in some legion. Just one more cog in the emperor's military machine.”

“Oh, come now, the Breakers were always more than that. Their commander is a Remnerol shaman—Rakaal—who was spared the noose at Avallon's order. The rank and file are also chosen from men in the emperor's debt. In the fifth Kalanese campaign they gained a reputation for doing the jobs no one else would do. And because of that they became to the emperor what the Guardians could never be.”

“You reckon Avallon's grooming them to replace us?”

“I'm sure of it.”

“Then he's an idiot. Whatever the Breakers' loyalties, they're still just soldiers.”

“Because they don't have the Will, you mean? Oh, but they do, Luker. Amerel and Borkoth are training them. They walked out on the Guardian Council last year.”

Luker mastered his surprise. “Borkoth, I get, but Amerel? How did the emperor get his claws into her?”

“Next time she stops by I'll be sure to ask.”

Luker sipped his wine. “Even with Amerel on their side, it'll be years before the Breakers master the Will. Just as well, too. It's probably the only reason you're not floating facedown in the harbor already.”

“You think I don't know that? The emperor needs the Guardians for now, but each day our position becomes more precarious. We must use the time we have left to counter his plans.”

“Right. A score of you left, you said.”

A gust of wind set the tower's windows rattling. The First Guardian moved to the fire and held his hands out to the flames. “We are not without allies. The Senate won't stand by and watch us die out. It fears the emperor's growing power, just as we do. For now there are only a few dissenting voices—the senators won't risk open conflict with the emperor while the war with the Kalanese goes badly. But when it ends there will be a reckoning. We just have to make sure we survive long enough to see it.”

“The war's turned sour?” Luker said. “I thought Tyrin Malek was holding his own.”

“You haven't heard the news? Reports say Malek has suffered a crushing defeat west of Arandas. He was lured into the shadow of the White Mountains by a Kalanese feint and hit with a flank attack by troops hidden in the foothills. The offensive drove a wedge through his forces, then the main Kalanese host fell on them before they could re-form. The Seventh was routed and scattered across the Gollothir Plains. The Fifth—what's left of it—is retreating south to Helin.”

“Malek himself?”

“Taken. The Kalanese may try to ransom him, but I doubt the imperial treasury has any coin to spare, even for one of the emperor's brothers.”

Not all bad news, then.
“What about Arandas?”

“Avallon has ordered a full withdrawal.”

Luker grunted. “The Aldermen will love that. Emperor spends years bullying Arandas into joining his Confederacy, then cuts the city loose at the first sign of trouble.”

“Avallon had no choice. The Kalanese and their allies are massing in the tens of thousands. Arandas cannot be held.”

The fire cracked and popped as wood settled in the grate. Luker finished his wine and set the glass down on the desk. “All of this is fascinating, but it changes nothing. Avallon started this war. If he wants to finish it, he'll have to shovel his own shit for a change.”

The First Guardian seemed unperturbed. “I haven't even told you what the emperor wants. Hear me out at least. You may find you're more sympathetic to his cause than you suspect.”

Luker eyed him warily, wondering where this was heading. Somewhere with a sharp drop on the other side, most likely.
He thinks he's got me, in spite of all I've said. What's he got hidden up his sleeve?
“I'm listening.”

The corners of Gill's mouth turned up. “Let me get you some more wine.” He lifted the decanter and topped up Luker's glass, then poured one for himself. “Won't you sit?” he asked, gesturing to a chair. When Luker shook his head, Gill drew his robes about him then said, “You recall the night of the Betrayal? The assault on the Black Tower?”

The change of subject took Luker aback again. Another feint?
He's trying to keep me off balance. Disguise the real strike when it comes.
“Aye,” he said finally.

“Then you must remember Mayot Mencada. No? He was one of the mages that sided with the emperor. Along with Epistine he pierced the Black Tower's defenses long enough for us to slip through.”

“If you say so.”

Gill moved back to the window. “After the attack, Avallon installed Mayot and a few others on the Mages' Conclave. Most were quietly removed by the mages when the emperor's attention was focused elsewhere, but Mayot survived.”

“You going somewhere with this?”

“If you'll let me. Mayot fled Arkarbour recently. No doubt the mages were delighted to see the back of him—except that he took something from the Black Tower when he left.”

“What?”

“The Book of Lost Souls.”

Luker scratched his scar. “That supposed to mean anything to me?”

“I'd be surprised if it did. I know little myself, save that the mages consider the Book to be valuable and are anxious to see it returned.”

“What's this got to do with me?”

“I would have thought that was obvious. The emperor wants you to hunt down Mayot and get the Book back.”

Luker blinked. Then he burst out laughing.

Gill's expression darkened. “I fail to see what is so amusing.”

“You're serious? Malek's troops have taken a mauling. Malek himself is probably staked out over a fire somewhere in Kal Kartin. The Confederacy's on the verge of collapse.” Luker ticked them off on his fingers. “And the emperor wants me to look for a
book
?”

“Apparently so.”

“Why? What's in it for him?”

“I don't know.”

“You didn't think to ask?”

Gill waved a hand. “In case it's escaped your attention, the emperor isn't in the habit of confiding in me of late. Perhaps he seeks to win favor with the Black Tower now that the tide of the war has turned.” The First Guardian shrugged. “In truth, I don't care. All that matters is that Avallon wants the Book and has come to us for help. This is a chance to earn his gratitude. One we can ill afford to pass up.”

“Prove we're still useful, you mean.”

“If you like.”

Luker picked up his wineglass and raised it to his lips, his gaze still locked to Gill's. “Why me?”

“Why has the emperor chosen you?” The First Guardian shrugged a second time. “As I said, there aren't many of us left. Senar Sol, Jenin Lock, Alar Padre, all gone.” He cast Luker a calculating glance. “I can't afford to lose another member of the Council on this mission. And for some reason Avallon seems to hold you in high—”

Luker held up a hand to cut him off. “Wait. You mean I'm not the first to be sent after Mayot?”

“No. There was another, but he vanished some time ago.”

Luker's throat was suddenly dry. “You said someone on the Council. Who?”

“Kanon.”

Luker set his glass down on the desk with a crack. Wine spattered the sheets of parchment like drops of blood. “Kanon's disappeared? When? Where?”

The First Guardian frowned at the scrolls. “I can't tell you.”

“Can't or won't?”

“I'm not in the mood for word games.”

Luker ground his teeth together. He should have seen this coming. Gill had remained confident in spite of Luker knocking him back because the First Guardian had always known he had Kanon's disappearance to fall back on if persuasion alone failed to win Luker round. “You think I don't know what you're doing, Gill? You're trying to use Kanon to bring me to heel.”

“You leave me little choice.”

“And Kanon himself? You going to just—”

“Oh, spare me!” Gill cut in. “This is about more than Kanon. The future of the Guardians is at stake, yours included. You think the emperor will let you walk away if you refuse him? He'll see it as a betrayal.”

So now he threatens me.
Luker turned for the door. “We're done here.”

“Wait!” There was a touch of the Will in Gill's voice.

Luker froze in midstep, then shook his head to clear it of the First Guardian's lingering touch.
He dares use his Will on me?
Luker slammed up his defenses. “Get out of my head!”

The First Guardian studied Luker for a heartbeat, then placed his wineglass on the mantelpiece. Luker felt Gill's power brush his thoughts again, a subtler but more insistent probing. In response, Luker gathered his own Will and used it to slap the First Guardian's questing aside. As their powers collided, the candles in the room were extinguished. The fire in the grate flickered and died, plunging the room into darkness.

Gill stood silhouetted against the window. “Think carefully before you do something you'll regret. This is not a fight you can win.”

Even as he spoke, Luker sensed him drawing on his power again. Gill's next attack struck his wards with a force that made him wince. The pressure in the room increased. A candleholder toppled to the ground with a clang, sending candles rolling across the floor. It felt to Luker as if a great weight pushed against his chest, and he drew in a breath with difficulty. His hands hovered over the hilts of his swords. “I don't like people riding me. And I sure as hell don't like seeing Kanon thrown to the wolves just so you can get cozy with Avallon.”