The Chaos Crystal (52 page)

'Clever,' Brynden said, speaking Glaeban, as he eyed Declan up and down. 'Sending a Scard to deliver your message.'

'I might not have been born ten thousand years ago, Lord Brynden,' Declan replied, meeting his gaze as evenly as he could manage. There was no point in trying to pretend he wasn't nervous. Brynden would feel that on the Tide, just as Declan could feel Brynden's confidence. And his curiosity. 'But I wasn't born yesterday, either. Where is Warlock?'

'Safe. For the time being.'

'I'd like to see him.'

Brynden studied him curiously. 'Why do you care about the fate of one stupid
gemang,
Hawkes?'

'I gave him my word he'd be safe.'

The Tide Lord smiled. 'And then you sent him to me with a message demanding a parley? You have an interesting view of the word
safe.'

'I was led to believe you are a man of honour.'

That gave Brynden pause. He was silent for a moment and then he turned to Kinta.

'I told you, Bryn—' she began, but he waved her to silence.

'Have the Scard brought here.'

Kinta glanced at Declan uncertainly. 'Are you sure?'

'I'm sure.'

The warrior bowed to her lord and turned for the door. Declan couldn't hide his relief as Brynden walked past him through the arched opening and stepped out onto the rain-spattered balcony to stare at the city.

'It hasn't rained here for years.'

Declan turned and followed him out into the rain. It was warm and not entirely unpleasant outside, and not the venue he expected for a meeting like this.

'Is the rain a consequence of what's happening in Glaeba?' Declan asked, recalling the numerous warnings he'd received about how using the Tide in one place often had a consequence in another.

Brynden shrugged. 'You tell me, Hawkes. You've been there more recently than I have.'

'They've never before had a winter as bad as this one.'

The Tide Lord leaned on the marble balustrade, staring out over the rooftops. 'Nor a summer as hot, a spring as dry
...
it's a common thing, when the Tide turns. There will be storms, violent storms, droughts, famines, floods — and that's without any of us lifting a finger. I used to think that was our purpose, you know; that we'd been put on this world to mitigate the effects of the Tide on others less fortunate.'

Declan was surprised to hear Brynden admit such a thing. But then, maybe he shouldn't be. If any immortal had put thought into the meaning of their existence, it was this man. 'Is that what you think now?'

'I don't know.' He straightened and turned to face Declan. His expression was puzzled more than threatening, as if wrestling with the philosophical problems posed by Lukys's plans for Amyrantha was more exhausting than an actual battle. 'The news Kinta brought me from her first meeting with you, has left me
...
unsettled. How certain are you of your intelligence, Hawkes?'

Although he suspected she would do so, it was a relief to discover he was right in his assumption that Kinta had passed on to Brynden what she'd learned in their meeting on the other side of the continent when Kentravyon had told them about Coryna. The detailed message Declan sent with Warlock would have done the rest, he supposed.

'I've seen the chamber Lukys has built in Jelidia to open the rift. Best we can tell, Cayal has the crystal and is on his way back to the ice palace with it. As for the risk to Amyrantha?' Declan shrugged, which allowed the water pooling in his collar to run down his back under his shirt. 'To be honest, my lord, we only

have Kentravyon's word on it. On the balance of probability, given Lukys claims the forces released when the portal closes are enough to kill an immortal, I'm guessing the risk is substantial.'

Brynden nodded and folded his arms across his chest. The rain had drenched his hair, and ran in rivulets down his face, but he seemed unaware of it, content to let it fall. Declan remembered riding in the rain with Jaxyn in Herino. He'd had no qualms about carelessly using the Tide to keep the elements at bay. Brynden was much more restrained, much more cautious of the power he wielded and the responsibility that went with it. 'How do you intend to stop them?'

'I can't. Not on my own. That's why I need you.'

Brynden frowned. 'You'll need every Tide Lord on Amyrantha, I suspect, to counter the force Lukys can muster. That means involving
all
the immortals, including Jaxyn, who is a wastrel, and Tryan, who is a sadist. Neither can be trusted.'

Declan nodded in agreement. 'That's the main reason I need you and Lady Kinta along, my lord,' he said, figuring a show of respect would go a long way with the Lord of Reckoning. 'I need someone I can trust to watch my back.' Declan was amazed to realise he spoke the truth. He probably could trust Brynden; more than he trusted any other Tide Lord, at any rate. That left him feeling more than a little disloyal toward Arkady.

But he couldn't worry about that now. There was a world at stake. It was alarming how quickly he was learning to put his own feelings aside to deal with that threat.

The Tide Lord studied Declan as if he understood Declan's moral dilemma, and then he smiled. 'You believe you can trust me? How do I know I can trust you? You are Lukys's son. Prove to me this is more than an elaborate prank put together by one of my jaded brethren to amuse themselves on the rising Tide.'

'How do you expect me to prove that?' Declan asked. The immortal had a point. Brynden really had little more than Declan's word and the second-hand story of a madman to go on.

Before Brynden could answer, however, Declan felt Kinta returning on the Tide. They heard the door opening and turned to find Warlock walking across the hall beside her, dressed in a plain linen slave's tunic, but otherwise unharmed.

Stepping back into the hall, Declan studied Warlock closely for a moment, looking for injuries, before asking, 'Are you all right?'

'I'm in one piece, if that's what you're asking,' the Scard replied with a scowl. He may not have been physically harmed, but he clearly wasn't happy with his treatment at the hands of these immortals.

The Lord of Reckoning followed Declan back into the hall, wiping the rain from his face with his hand, and then turned to Kinta. 'Hawkes believes he can trust us.'

'Can't he?' she asked, glancing at Declan. He could feel her uncertainty on the Tide, and wasn't sure what it meant.

'I'm more concerned whether we can trust him. Give me your sword.'

Without asking why, Kinta unsheathed her sword and handed it to Brynden in an action that seemed suspiciously rehearsed. The immortal hefted the blade for a moment and then offered it, hilt first, to Declan.

'Kill the Scard,' Brynden said.

'Excuse me?' Declan said, wondering if he'd misheard the order. Not that he seriously thought he had. The offered blade said it all, even without words.

'Kill the Scard,' Brynden repeated, offering him the sword again. 'You want to prove your noble intentions to me, then do as I ask. Kill the Scard.'

Declan stared down at the sword for a moment in confusion and then looked at Brynden. 'What purpose would that serve?'

'I will know you mean what you say.'

Shaking his head, Declan looked at Kinta, who'd contributed nothing, thus far, to the conversation — other than her blade. 'How will it prove that? Tides, it's not Kentravyon who's crazy. It's all of you!'

'You're not willing to do it then?' Kinta asked.

Tides, I was such a fool to think this man could be
trusted. He sold Arkady into slavery. When did you stop listening to your instincts, you fool?

'No!' Declan said, taking a step forward to put himself between a rather worried-looking Warlock and the immortals. 'Absolutely not. And the hell with you for asking. What are you people? Are you so far removed from your own humanity that mortal lives have become a tradable commodity?'

As he heard himself utter the words, Declan realised the irony. He sounded just like Arkady after she'd found out about the deal he did with Cayal over her future. That infuriated him almost as much as Brynden's absurd order to kill Warlock. And it forced a decision from him, one he found it surprisingly easy to make. He snatched the sword from Brynden and tossed it onto the tiles with a clatter. 'You know what? The hell with all of you. I'll find another way to stop Lukys and Cayal destroying the world. Without your help. Or maybe I won't. Maybe, if it's the only way to put an end to monsters like you, I ought to go back to Jelidia and give Lukys a hand.'

He turned his back on the Lord of Reckoning and his consort and looked at Warlock, making no attempt to hide his anger or his disappointment. 'Let's get out of here, Warlock.'

The Scard didn't need any further encouragement. He was probably fighting the urge not to retch on the stench of them, anyway. He fell in beside Declan without a murmur of protest.

They'd not taken more than two or three steps, however, before Kinta called them back. 'Wait, Declan Hawkes.'

Against his better judgement, Declan turned back to look at her. 'What?'

She smiled, picking up her sword and checking the blade for nicks before she sheathed it again. 'There is no need for you to leave,' she said. 'Brynden was merely testing you.'

'And I failed the test miserably,' he said. 'I get that. See you around eternity, someplace.'

He turned to leave again, but this time it was Brynden who stopped him. 'Your refusal to kill the Scard means you passed the test, Hawkes, not failed it.'

Declan turned back to stare at them in confusion. 'I beg your pardon?'

'You are immortal, Hawkes, but you have a Scard by your side, willing to aid your cause. He must be gagging on the very stench of you, and yet you command his loyalty enough to send him here to Ramahn to deliver your message for you. That's a loyalty not bought cheaply. Scards are not easily fooled or coerced. You must have some good qualities if he will follow you. That you're not a wanton killer is apparently among them.'

Declan stared at him in disgust. 'But you were quite happy to take an innocent life to find out
if
I
was?'

'When the good of many is at stake, the life of one becomes expendable,' the Lord of Reckoning said with a shrug. 'I have long believed my purpose in becoming immortal would one day be revealed, Declan Hawkes. Perhaps that time is come. There is no greater or nobler purpose, after all, than saving millions of innocent lives from the whim of a madman.'

Declan was tempted to point out that Brynden's very own whim had caused the last Cataclysm, but decided that was a debate they didn't have the time for now. 'You're with me, then?'

Brynden shook his head. 'No, Declan Hawkes, you are with me.'

Declan opened his mouth to object but Kinta never gave him the chance. 'Brynden commands the respect of the other Tide Lords in a way you simply cannot, Declan Hawkes,' she explained. 'They have known you for less than an eye-blink. Brynden, on the other hand, has known them for thousands of years, and they know him.'

'And from what I hear, they're not all that fond of him either, my lady,' Declan reminded her.

'I don't need to command their affection, Hawkes,' Brynden said. 'But I do command their respect. Your note said the new King of Glaeba is capable of brokering peace between Jaxyn and Tryan. Is that true?'

Declan nodded. 'The first meeting was due to take place the day I left Glaeba.'

'Once Tryan and Jaxyn have settled their differences, they will listen to me. None of us wants to see Amyrantha destroyed, even if some of the immortals we must rely on to save our world have more venal motives than others.'

Declan didn't like the idea of putting Brynden in charge, but he had a bad feeling there was no other way this would work. He'd never been sure how he was going to get the others to follow him, and had been lucky, so far, that he'd achieved even this much. And Brynden did have a point. The other Tide Lords may not like the Lord of Reckoning, but they respected him.

With a great deal of reluctance, he nodded. 'Fine. But we don't have much time. I don't need to tell you how fast the Tide is rising, and for all we know, Cayal is already back in Jelidia.'

Kinta shook her head. 'Not yet. We still have time.'

'How do you figure that?' Warlock asked. He'd wisely kept silent until now but apparently the Scard could no longer contain himself. Declan admired that about Warlock. Any other creature in his position

would likely be a quivering furry ball of fear by now, in the presence of so many immortals.

Declan was surprised when Kinta answered him with no sign of irritation or impatience. 'Immortals prefer to take over existing power structures for more than our love of pomp and ceremony,' she said. 'A functioning government is always easier to adapt than trying to establish order out of the chaos of utter devastation.'

'And functioning governments usually come with established spy networks,' Declan said, understanding immediately what she was trying to explain to Warlock. He looked at her curiously. 'You have spies out there with news of Cayal, don't you?'

Kinta hesitated for a fraction of a second and then nodded. 'He is on a ship heading south. It left the Chelae Islands about three weeks ago, and as far as my informants could tell, it was under sail, not propelled magically by the Tide. That could be because they have the crystal and can't work the Tide with it onboard. Kentravyon is with him and so is Elyssa.'