Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms (19 page)

Lyall threw up his hands. “Well,
we can’t wait that long for answers.”

“I wouldn’t put too much store by
what it says,” Keris cautioned. “I asked it its age before, and it
replied that it was more than ten million turns old. Annata said
that it was the key to an instrument that could be used to disarm
the Prophet’s weapon safely. The instrument too lies beyond the
Great Barrier.”

Lyall appeared to be deep in
thought. Then he addressed the Chandara. “Boxx, what is the
key?”

“I Am The Key,” it affirmed, in
its strange lilting voice.

“How does the key
work?”

“You
Are The Key,” it stressed.

“I thought you said you were the
key,” Shann pointed out.

“I Am,” it stated
proudly.

Keris laughed, shaking her head.
“I warned you.”

Lyall sat back, temporarily
admitting defeat. Then the Chandara spoke up. “Does Keris Wish Me
To Speak The Key?” There was a pause. “I Can Speak The Key Only To
Keris.”

All eyes turned to look at the
Keltar. Keris made a ‘how should I know,’ expression. Then she
turned to the Chandara. “Boxx, please speak the key.”

It sat up on its hind legs and
began to chant, “One Two One Zero Two Zero Two One One Zero One Two
One Two Zero Zero Two One–”

“Boxx,” Keris
interrupted.

“Yes, Keris.”

“What are you doing?”

“I Speak The Key,” it confirmed.
Then it added, “The Key Is Not Complete.”

“That’s all right, never
mind.”

“You
Are The Key,” it insisted.

“Yes, thank you,” Keris dismissed
the creature.

There was another pause. Finally
it was Alondo who spoke up. “Well, what does anyone
think?”

“I think I have a headache,”
Lyall commented wryly.

“Aren’t we forgetting something?”
Shann pointed out. “The Great Barrier of Storms.”

“Keris,” Lyall asked, “did Annata
say anything about how we were to cross the barrier?”

“Yes she did, and I’ve been
thinking about that. She said that on our side of the world there
were two towers that could somehow send us to the other side,
without having to pass through the storms. She said she would
explain how, when she next contacted us.

“I think one of them must be the
Dagmar Tower, situated on the estate where I grew up. The tower is
ancient–no-one knows who built it and it has lain abandoned for as
long as I am aware. However, its proximity to Chalimar means that
the country around it will be thick with soldiers and Keltar. Given
our current standing with the authorities, I don’t think we stand a
chance of getting anywhere near it. So I ‘borrowed’ something from
Ferenek, the commander at Gort, that I believe will help us to find
the other tower.”

“But…what about the tributes at
Gort?” Shann sounded agitated.

“It seems we have a bigger
problem now,” Lyall declared. “If the Prophet manages to complete
this weapon, then all Kelanni will be threatened, not just the
tributes. We have to stop him. It is up to us.”

“But the
tributes will be
executed
after the incident at the compound,” Shann
protested.

“I seriously doubt that,” Keris
reassured her. “The tributes were not involved in what happened.
Ferenek is a ruthless man, but he is also ambitious. Execution of
tributes would lead to a drop in lodestone ore production, and
Ferenek would not want to be in the position of having to explain
that to the authorities at Chalimar.”

Shann clammed up but still looked
distinctly unhappy.

“Well, I am sure there will be a
lot more to discuss, but for now, I think we could all do with some
rest. I will take first watch. Then Keris, Alondo and Shann. All
right?”

There was a murmur of agreement.
Alondo and Shann made preparations to bed down in the shade of the
awnings. Keris lingered. In a few moments, she was alone with
Lyall. She had not known what to expect of this lanky, fair-haired
man who had posed as a Keltar and tried to free tributes all on his
own. She had wondered whether he was madman or saint, and was
relieved that he seemed to be neither. He had a way of taking
charge of a situation and of inspiring those around him. She could
see why Alondo and Shann had attached themselves to him. He was
regarding her curiously.

She decided to come straight to
the point. “There was one more thing that the woman from the past
said that I didn’t mention, because it didn’t seem relevant and to
be honest, I’m not sure what it means. You have heard the Prophet
referred to as the ‘Unan-Chinneroth’?”

Lyall was nodding, “Yes. It’s
Ancient once again, I believe.”

“Annata said that it means
‘without a tail.’ She said that the Prophet’s skin is white and his
blood is red, and that he is not Kelanni.

Lyall frowned
in consternation. “But if he is not Kelanni, then
what is he?
”

Chapter
12

Shann had had just about as much
as she could stand.

She had left
the farmhouse near Lind with a clear mind and a strong purpose.
They were going to free the tributes and break the power of the
Prophet to oppress the Kelanni people. Now, an arrogant woman, a
Keltar with a story that beggared belief, had dropped in out of the
sky and somehow hijacked their mission. How could Lyall and Alondo
simply go along with it? Could they not
see
what she was?

It had started from the moment
they roused themselves to begin the night’s journey across the
desert, away from the fortress of Gort and the tributes she had
pledged herself to free. Keris had gathered them all together as if
she were somehow now in charge. Shann felt dismay as she watched
Lyall meekly fall into line. Someone had to put a stop to
this.

Keris had unfurled a large scroll
of paper on the sand. “I took this from Ferenek’s office. It is
called a map,” she explained. Shann was intrigued, in spite of
herself. It was like being a perridon, looking down on the ground
from high up, only it showed far more than a perridon could ever
see. There was Chalimar and Corte, Lind and the road south through
the Southern Desert to Gort.

“All right, we are here.” Keris’
index finger pointed to a point north-east of the fortress. If we
make reasonable time, we should pass beyond the edge of the desert
in less than two days. Beyond the desert lie the Eastern Plains.
There are few settlements. The Kelanni who live there
are…different. They are mostly hunters, nomadic. And some of them
are little more than rogues. If we should meet any, watch out for
yourselves.” She looked at them one at a time, before returning her
attention to the map.

“I believe our destination lies
here.” She indicated a point on the south-eastern edge of the
plains. There was a representation of a tower on the map, but there
was no name next to it. “I calculate that we should be able to make
the journey in about twenty days. We will need to exchange your
morgren for graylesh. There is a trading post there, near the edge
of the desert.”

“What about Boxx?” Alondo asked.
“I don’t think it could ride one of those.”

“You have a point,” she
acknowledged. “I suggest that we attempt to procure a wagon for
supplies, and for Boxx to ride in.

“I did manage
to acquire some other items at Gort that we might find useful in a
pinch.” Keris got up, went to her saddle pack and returned with two
boxes, one a lot smaller than the other. She opened the larger
container first. Set in ten velour recesses were ten silver globes.
Shann had glimpsed such a globe only once before, during Lyall’s
battle with the Keltar in Corte, but she recognised them
instantly–
lodestone grenades.
Keris handed five of them to Lyall and put the
remaining five in her own pouch. “Use them only in an emergency,”
she counselled. “I do not think it likely that we will be able to
get replacements any time soon.”

Shann’s brow knotted. “What about
me; don’t I get any?”

Keris’ expression was one of
strained patience. “Have you ever used one of these,
child?”

Shann felt her hackles rise.
No-one had called her “child” since she was little. It was
demeaning. Her eyes blazed at the older woman. She forced herself
to answer. “No.”

“Then you are more likely to blow
a hand or an arm off–or somebody else’s. Just…try and stay out of
the way.”

Shann looked at Lyall for
support, but his head was down, stowing the grenades in his pouch.
She felt alone, isolated, powerless. She lapsed into a morose
silence.

Keris selected
the smaller receptacle and opened it. Within it were two Rings;
bronze in colour, each set with a stone, the colour of midnight.
“These are Speaking Rings,” she explained. “When you speak into
them, they can reproduce your voice at great distances. However,
they need to be Linked with each other, so that they resonate. One
Ring can only be used to communicate with one other Ring to which
it has been Linked. And the Link cannot be undone; it is permanent.
I could only find the one pair, so we need to use them wisely.” She
snapped the container shut and placed it in her pouch.
Making sure that you keep control,
Shann brooded.

Keris stood up and began making
preparations to leave. Lyall and Alondo meekly followed her cue as
if she was a queen and they were a part of her retinue. The two men
packed away the awnings and then began coaxing the morgren forward.
Boxx fell in behind the two beasts of burden. Keris addressed Lyall
and Alondo directly, ignoring Shann as if she were beneath
contempt.

“Follow the road east,” she
commanded. “I will head back and check for signs of pursuit and
then catch up with you.”

“Be safe.” Alondo called
out.

Sure, don’t fall down
any holes or anything.

Keris adjusted her cloak and
trotted back the way they had come. In a few moments, she flared
her cloak and leapt into the ferruginous twilight.

Shann waited until she was sure
the Keltar had gone. Then she caught up to the other two. They were
side by side leading the animals and engaged in quiet conversation.
Whatever it was they were discussing, Shann didn’t care to know.
There was an issue that was far more pressing.

“Lyall,” she interrupted him in
mid-sentence. “What are we doing?”

He turned from Alondo to her.
“Excuse me?”

“What are
we
doing
?” She
repeated.

“How do you mean?”

“That woman is
a
Keltar
, and we
are taking her orders.”

“We have to know if the Prophet’s
men are tracking us, Shann.”

“That’s not
what I mean. Ever since she arrived, you two do exactly what she
says, and it’s like I don’t
exist
.”

Lyall brought his animal to a
stop and turned to look at her directly. She saw the same clear
blue eyes; the same unruly fair hair and felt oddly reassured.
“Shann, I brought you into our group because I believed you were
courageous and sincere. Since that time you have demonstrated
integrity and resourcefulness far beyond anything I might have
expected. I regard you as a full member and an equal partner in
this enterprise, and I value your opinion. If you have something to
say, then I would gladly hear it.”

Shann felt her confidence
growing. “All right then. Why are we following the orders of a
Keltar?”

“I am not following her orders.
And she is not a Keltar; not anymore.”

“Yes she
is
. Keltar are the sworn servants of the
Prophet. They don’t change.”

“I did,” Lyall
observed.

“You
were never actually a Keltar–you told me as much.
Look at what has happened so far. We came to Gort to rescue the
tributes and to cut off the Prophet’s supply of lodestones. Now we
are headed in the opposite direction. She has already succeeded in
diverting us from our purpose. She will
destroy
us the first chance she
gets.”

“I don’t think so, Shann. If she
had wanted to destroy us, she could have done so very easily by
simply doing nothing. When Alondo and I entered the compound, we
had no idea that a trap had been set for us. She saved our
lives.”

He glanced at Alondo. Alondo
looked down at his feet; then raised his eyes to meet Shann’s. He
had become accustomed to siding with Shann against Lyall during
their banter on the journey to Gort. It was a source of humour and
it had helped to cement them together as a group. Now he looked
most uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Shann; I have to agree with Lyall.
We would be lying dead in that guardhouse if it wasn’t for
her.”

“How do you
know she isn’t manipulating you somehow?” Shann pressed on. “And
what about that crazy story of hers about being spoken to by
someone from the past? You’re not telling me you
believe
all of
that.”