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‘Tell me.’
‘The thing is, my people got the worst of it.’
‘You fought the biggest demon? The biggest group?’
‘No. Well, yes, but that isn’t it. The Wild singled us out, came for us above the others. Vasin, they singled me out. When I landed, they came for me, and me alone. It was like they knew I was coming. How can that be?’
‘I don’t know, I thought all but strongest of the Wild feared us. Surely they were easy prey for you.’
‘We slaughtered them, but they didn’t seem to care.’
Vasin’s headache got suddenly worse, as if trying to match his sense of foreboding. The odd behaviour described at Anuja’s hunt seemed to chime with Quiverhive’s activity. ‘I think this was another experiment,’ he said. ‘They tested the Godroad, and now they’re testing us.’
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_b454a839-926c-525c-99d1-c256163d3fa1)
Vasin followed the servant, trying to order his mind for what was to come. He was being led to a night gathering of House Ruby’s guests. This would be in part to discuss the business of the hunt, and in part to posture, to politic. It was Vasin’s chance to solidify the quiet work of the last sixteen years, and gain allies against Yadavendra. It was also a chance to fail long before the inevitable confrontation with High Lord Sapphire.
Nerves flew like angry hunters in his stomach.
The strangeness of his environment didn’t help. House Ruby was more sparing with its gemslight than he was used to, leaving patches of the narrow corridors dark. He noticed the individual rubies were not all cut to the same size. Some were a few millimetres thicker than others, and some stood slightly taller. You had to look to see them, the differences minor, but to his eyes, the imperfection was telling. The ceilings were too low, too cramped, and he had the absurd sense of them pressing downwards, trapping him.
Despite the late hour the castle seemed empty as he travelled, and this too disturbed him. A Sapphire castle always had guards at stairwells and key corridors. As much as he hated that – the feeling of always being watched was one of the things that drove him into the sky after all – he also found it reassuring.
They arrived at a room Vasin had not seen before, and he heard laughter echoing through the arched entrance. The servant waited for it to fade and then sang to announce his arrival and request permission to enter. Vasin felt a brief pang of fear that he would be rejected. Ridiculous, irrational, but in the moment, impossible to ignore. It was soon refuted by Lady Anuja, who gave permission, prompt and clear. The servant showed him inside.
The room was of a reasonable size, heptagonal, and filled with long, low seats, puffed up with cushions. Each chair was accompanied by a tiny squat table with drinks and small baked treats.
He saw three Deathless faces turn in his direction, smiles slowly fading from some shared joke.
Here we go.
Lady Anuja was sat opposite the doorway, artfully positioned. Her stiffness and discomfort dressed as regal posture, with the cushions carefully constructed around her to support her injured body. All signs of fatigue were gone from her face. ‘Lord Vasin. Ruby-friend. Sit, relax, be welcome.’
‘Thank you,’ he replied with a bow, noting the raised eyebrows and pointed look that passed between the other two inhabitants.
‘This,’ continued Anuja, gesturing to her right, ‘is Lord Lakshin of House Opal.
He saw a slight, delicate man, his body most likely coming to the end of its prime years. There was a studied poise about him, that struck Vasin as too rigid to be comfortable. The Opal tended to keep to themselves, and he knew nothing of Lakshin beyond a name. This in itself was odd. Most Deathless were known for something, even if it was embarrassing. No legend was visible either, which would be fine if Lakshin was in his first lifecycle, but he wasn’t, suggesting mediocrity. And as everyone knew, there was no such thing as a mediocre Deathless, at least never for very long.
Anuja pointed to her left. ‘And this is Lord Quasim of House Peridot.’
Quasim was in a young body, well muscled, but already showing signs of a fast life. The legend of a previous lifecycle had turned both of his ears gold, along with the knuckles on his right hand. Vasin wondered what the tales behind them were. He’d heard the Story-singers praise Quasim’s courage and humour but he also recalled his mother making a barbed comment about the man going through three lifecycles in the time most Deathless enjoyed one.
He gave a bow of respect to them both. ‘A pleasure to meet you.’
In the red light, their faces seemed like statues, their eyes hidden in bloody shadows. Neither of them bowed nor saluted, though their heads tilted in the barest form of acknowledgement. It stabbed at his pride, making his fists clench within his long slevees, but he couldn’t blame them for being angry. After all, House Sapphire had all but slammed its doors on everyone else.
He went and took a seat, pondering the best approach as the servant poured him a glass of wine.
This has to go well. If I can win them over, I gain two more voices that will support my challenge when it comes.
‘I’m afraid I bring bad news.’ And he told them of his encounter with Quiverhive.
Anuja looked grave as he spoke, Quasim puzzled, as if still waiting for the punchline to a joke, and Lakshin shook his head in disbelief. ‘A demon on the Godroad? Unharmed?’ He shook his head a second time. ‘Impossible. Perhaps you mistook its closeness for contact, as you say, you were high above it.’
‘I know what I saw.’
‘Did your hunters see it also?’
‘No.’
‘Your entourage then?’
Vasin’s heart sank. ‘No … I travelled here alone.’
‘Then you will forgive me if I trust centuries of experience before the report of one Sapphire Deathless.’
There was a brief and awkward silence. All four of them filled it by sipping from their drinks.
Quasim leaned forward. ‘Lady Anuja tells us you are most nimble in the sky, Lord Vasin.’
He gave a nod to Anuja in recognition of the compliment. ‘Then I hope I prove worthy of her words when we next fly together.’
Quasim grinned. ‘She says you’re almost as good as me!’
Anuja rolled her eyes but said nothing. Her silence seemed out of place, given that she acted as the High Lord of her house. It troubled him.
‘Perhaps,’ Quasim added, ‘you would be interested in pitting your wings against mine?’
‘Perhaps,’ echoed Vasin. ‘But I am more interested in how my wings might serve my friends. I’ve heard a little of how things are here, but not from you.’
‘Things are hard,’ said Quasim, still grinning. ‘And glorious. The Wild throws ever more at us, and we prove more than a match for it.’
‘I hear the most recent hunt had six tributes.’
‘Aye! And they drew out a mighty horde for us to fight.’
‘What was it like?’
‘It’s hard to describe,’ said Lakshin. ‘You really had to be there.’
Another insult. He kept a tight grip on his pride, reminding himself that he needed the Opal onside. ‘I’m here now and I don’t intend to be idle. If there’s anything you can tell me, it would be appreciated.’
Lakshin scowled and Vasin wasn’t sure if it was at the memory or the imposition. ‘These aren’t like normal hunts. They start the same way of course, but the moment we take wing, things change.’
‘Forgive me,’ he glanced at Anuja. ‘But there’s nothing normal about sending six tributes.’
‘It’s true,’ agreed Lakshin, also glancing at Anuja. ‘May I?’ She waved consent and he continued. ‘In the hunt before, Fourboards made its sacrifices and sent out two tributes, as is the tradition.’ Lakshin looked out of the window towards the distant, glittering lights below. ‘Neither of them made it more than twenty paces into the Wild before they were taken. Can you believe it? It was so sudden our hunters never even found the torches.’ He shook his head, still disbelieving. ‘The following night was a long one for the people of Fourboards. Murkers came right up to the fences. In the end, they were driven off but by then they’d managed to break one of the supporting stilts and an entire house fell into the swamp.’
‘They attacked the settlement itself? You’re sure?’
Lakshin seemed annoyed at the interruption. ‘What of it?’
‘I thought Murkers only attacked living things.’
‘They were, the house was full of living things.’
‘Yes, but to bring down a structure like that …’
‘Please. They’re beasts, the house was between them and food so they attacked it. It’s no different to when the Toothsack ate part of Raften.’
Vasin frowned. He wasn’t convinced, and nor it seemed, was Anuja. Lakshin seemed to consider the matter closed and carried on.
‘In response to the attack, the elders of Fourboards called another hunt and upped the number of tributes to six.’
‘And did these tributes get through?’
‘Oh they got through,’ said Quasim. ‘It was incredible. Imagine it, Lord Vasin. All that blood in one place crying out through six wounds. They called every demon in the swamp.’
‘Incredible?’ snorted Lakshin. ‘It was the height of idiocy. There we were, three Deathless, all backed by hunters, and it was all we could do to not be overwhelmed.’
Vasin was surprised when Anuja didn’t respond to this criticism of her people. Perhaps she agrees with him. ‘I don’t think idiocy is the same as desperation. By the sounds of it Fourboards needed the second hunt to succeed.’
‘You don’t throw out a thousand years of tradition because of one anomaly!’
‘What other choice did they have?’
‘To endure. The traditions are there to protect us all. By breaking them, Fourboards put us all at risk. Surely you of all people should understand that?’
Vasin took a deep breath as he imagined hooking his fingers into the Opal’s lower jaw and ripping it out. He kept his hands by his sides however, and his voice light, ‘That’s why I’m here, to honour our friends in House Ruby.’
Lakshin’s eyebrows lifted. ‘I look forward to seeing it, Lord Vasin. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my lady, it’s been a long day.’
Quasim stood up as well. ‘A glorious day! Fourboards is safe once more, and the Wild will take time to recover from the beating we gave it.’
As will Lady Anuja, thought Vasin. As will we all. It troubled him that despite all they had seen, Lakshin and Quasim were still behaving as if everything was normal. As if tradition and skill alone would be enough to see order restored.
‘A toast before you leave,’ announced Anuja, raising her cup. She did not stand, and so the other two Deathless were forced to sit and collect their drinks. ‘To days shared. Be they long, glorious, hard or joyful. Let us endure them together, as friends, always.’
‘To days shared,’ they said. Then toasted, stood, bowed, and left.
‘I should retire too,’ said Vasin. ‘Leave you to your business.’
She held up a hand. ‘In a moment. First tell me you can hunt with them.’
‘Of course. The question is whether they’ll hunt with me.’
‘They will hunt wherever and with whomever I chose, until such time as their High Lords call them home.’
He thought about her words. She states that they will follow her orders, yet makes a point of asking me as an equal, as if I were here as a High Lord rather than subordinate. And this after inviting me to join their gathering, calling me Ruby-friend in front of her allies. She knows I move on Yadavendra and is giving her support.
On impulse, he knelt before her and took her hands in his. ‘Thank you. I won’t forget this, and nor will House Sapphire.’
She inched closer, wincing with the effort, sliding her hand down his wrist to clasp it. For a time they held eye contact, and Vasin was glad of it.
‘The Wild is changing, my friend, and we must change with it. The Sapphire must heal and be better than they were before.’
‘We will, I promise.’
She squeezed his wrist. ‘And I will hold you to it.’
A new day was dawning and word had reached them that High Lord Sapphire was coming with it. As soon as Chandni left her chambers, she stood straighter, any worries banished from sight. Her majordomo’s robes were perfectly fitted, their edges crisp, the studs of sapphire bright at her collar. Gloves covered her scar and any awkwardness with her right hand, and her feather was trapped within a braided cage of her hair. Unmanaged, it would pool around her feet. As it was, the bottom of the braid swung against the back of her calves.
She made her usual tour of the castle, pleased to note that everyone was where they should be. The other staff acknowledged her, and she exchanged a quick word with each as she passed. Usually these were banal comments on the weather or the way the castle was sitting in the sky that morning. In a couple of cases she would stay longer, enquiring about the health of a family member or whether a requested tool had arrived. She worked her way through the castle, past the legs of the sapphire giant that stood astride the main entrance. Mid-thigh they vanished into the ceiling, his lower body, upper body and head each on a different floor. The guards standing between his feet saluted as she went down into the kitchens.
A rich symphony of scents greeted her as she descended the stairs, accompanied by the familiar clatter of pots and plates. Once, long ago, she had run down here, assassins hot on her heels. The memory remained fresh in her mind, reborn every time she came this way. She forced herself to slow down. It had become a point of pride to use every step, and savour the fact that it was at a pace of her own choosing.
In most other places in the castle, her arrival would prompt a flurry of salutes or bows, but here in the kitchens, everyone was engaged in their tasks: kneading dough, chopping herbs, cleaning the never ending supply of dirty plates. Here, and here alone, Chandni tolerated it. For though she was in charge of the castle, the kitchens were Roh’s domain.
A thick slab of sapphire protruded from a corner of the room, the air around it shimmering with heat. Energy from the suns fed the crystals beneath the castle, the warmth and light carried up through the walls like blood through veins. Here, the sapphire had been shaped flat with shallow depressions for placing pans and plates, and during the day something was always cooking on them.
She made her way over to the old cook, who was busy stirring a pot of thick sauce. ‘Good morning, Roh.’
‘Big day today, Honoured Mother.’
‘I trust you have something special prepared for the High Lord’s dinner.’
‘That I do, that I do. And I’ve got his favourite soup ready for lunch. You know our High Lord, always early.’
It was true. Not in the way that Chandni was early. She liked to arrive with time in hand, to ensure she was present at the appointed hour. For her it was about respecting others and being precise. Yadavendra, on the other hand, would be shockingly, monstrously early. It was one of the reasons Chandni had already dressed in her best clothes, as on a previous visit she’d still been changing when he’d arrived. The frantic rushing, the panic, it had made for some of the worst hours of her life.
Never again, she’d sworn to herself. I’d rather go out into the Wild.
The throwaway thought brought back true memories of the Wild, and she shuddered. And then, straight after, came memories of Varg. He’d been thrown into her life so suddenly, and then left it the same way. He’d made the Wild bearable, and he’d been devoted to her in a way that nobody else was. The staff here were all loyal, but they were loyal to her as a tool of House Sapphire and Lord Rochant. Varg was loyal to her personally.
Even though he serves Lady Pari, he wants to be with me.
She thought of his gruffness, his strength, his appalling language, and had to suppress a chuckle. Then she thought of other things, the ease at which he blushed in her presence, his hands massaging her feet, of them wandering elsewhere, his promise that he would pay off his debts to the Tanzanite and come to her. That had been sixteen years ago.
It was fantasy of course, but it was her fantasy, the only one she had, and she clung to it.
‘I imagine you have a lot on your mind, Honoured Mother, what with the High Lord on his way,’ said Roh.
The blood grew hot in her face. ‘Oh … yes. I’ll leave you to it.’
Roh hummed an acknowledgement and went back to her business, while Chandni made her way out quickly.
Any thoughts of Varg were long gone as she reached Satyendra’s chambers. All was quiet in the corridor outside save for the swish of fabric as the guards saluted her. She acknowledged them and paused at his doorway to sing for permission to enter. As his mother, she didn’t have to, but she did it anyway, to make a point.
