The Iron Ghost (29 page)

‘This is a sorry state to be in,’ she said to Sebastian, casting her voice low as they stumbled along together. ‘One of our number lost, and babysitting these two.’

Sebastian smiled wanly. ‘They’ve been through a lot, the pair of them.’ He nodded to Prince Dallen walking in front with his head down. ‘I wouldn’t expect them to be the cheeriest of travelling companions.’

‘Huh,’ sniffed Wydrin, ‘can I just remind you, before you spend too long crying over Good Prince Dallen and his current poor fortunes, that he knocked you off our griffin and nearly froze you to death?’

‘A prince protecting his people,’ said Sebastian, pulling a flask from his belt and taking a quick sip before passing it to Wydrin. Below them the clear ice yawned away into a blue darkness. Wydrin couldn’t help thinking of the invisible bridge they had walked from the Secret Keeper’s house. ‘You can hardly blame him for that. And he let us go afterwards, when his father would have opened our throats to the sky.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Wydrin. She took a long swig from the flask, savouring the heat of the rum . . . ‘Because that ended so well.’

‘I think he’s a good man,’ said Sebastian, and the desperately concealed note of caution in his voice made Wydrin grin. She punched him lightly on the arm.

‘Oho,’ she said. ‘Well, he’s certainly striking to look at. And he seems to know what to do with that spear of his.’

Sebastian choked back laughter. ‘This ice may be thick, Wydrin, but I still think I could cut a copper cat-sized hole in it just for you.’

Wydrin passed back the flask. ‘Just you bloody try it, Carverson.’

Sebastian slipped the flask back into his belt. Ahead of them, Nuava, Mendrick and Dallen had reached another of the black monoliths, and were preparing to make camp for the night. It would, Mendrick had informed her in his chilly, precise manner, take another half-day of walking to reach the place they needed to get to.

‘You seem to have cheered up, anyway,’ said Sebastian as they caught up with the others. ‘You know, Frith will be fine. He can look after himself.’

‘He certainly can do that,’ replied Wydrin dryly. ‘He has always had a particular talent for it, if I remember correctly.’ She touched her fingers to the hilt of Glassheart, wondering where the lord of the Blackwood was now, and if he was even still alive. ‘I’m sure he’s out there somewhere, annoying the living shit out of this Joah character.’

Beneath the great slab of black stone they ate a cold meal hunched around the light from Dallen’s lamp. Wydrin passed around portions of the broth she’d made earlier, now largely turned greasy and congealed. Nuava took it gratefully anyway, and Wydrin was glad to see it; if she were hungry, then perhaps she was beginning to get over her shock.

‘You know a lot about these lands, don’t you?’ said Wydrin, catching the girl’s eye. ‘Do you know what these bloody great big rocks are about?’

For a moment Nuava looked confused, as though she’d forgotten there were other people present. Wydrin nodded in what she hoped was an encouraging manner.

‘The ancient peoples . . .’ Nuava began hesitantly. ‘They erected these tablets as guardians. They are all over the northernmost places, but particularly here. For reasons lost to history they considered this place in need of a great deal of watching over. They believed there were monsters under the ground.’ Her voice had started to take on the slightly scholarly tone Wydrin recognised from the Tower of Waking. ‘And perhaps they were right. Joah Demonsworn was said to haunt this land.’

‘And hopefully we will find him soon,’ added Sebastian. ‘Wydrin –’ he glanced at the werken, who was crouched off to one side, green eyes staring forward like twin moons – ‘does Mendrick truly know the way?’

Wydrin nodded. It was very clear when Mendrick explained it in her head, but less easy to convey in words to the others.

‘He says there is a place, some distance beneath the crust of the world, where the flesh of the earth is linked by the Edeian. He thinks of it as the nexus. If he can get there, he can send his mind out through this nexus and look for the place where Joah is hiding. He needs to be with the nexus to be able to do it.’ She shook her head abruptly. ‘I don’t pretend to understand it, Seb, but he’s very certain. We just need to get down to this place where everything is connected, and there are paths leading down to it near here.’

In this haunted place
, echoed Mendrick in her head.

‘You will want to post a watch,’ said Dallen suddenly. He was still a ragged sight in the dying light, his face gaunter than it had been. ‘A watch through the night, and I would strongly suggest vigilance during the daylight hours too. There are creatures here that would consider us a healthy meal.’ He shifted, casting his face into deeper shadow. ‘I would be glad to take the first watch. Sleep seems far from me at the moment.’

Wydrin glanced up at Sebastian, and saw him give the tiniest shrug. They would trust the prince this far, then.

‘Fair enough, your highness,’ she said. ‘Mendrick will find our path tomorrow. If you can keep any animals from chewing on our flesh until then, I’d be very grateful.’

Sebastian woke in the middle of the night to a cold hand on his arm. He looked up into the pale eyes of Prince Dallen, who shook him once more and stood back.

‘It is your watch,’ he said. ‘But come quietly, I want to show you something.’

Sebastian stepped over the sleeping forms of Wydrin and Nuava; the girl was curled in on herself, barely visible amongst her blankets, whereas Wydrin slept as she always did, limbs flung in various directions. Dallen led him beyond their small circle to the pile of rocks where he’d been sitting. Beyond it the world was a collection of blacks and greys, gently touched with starlight. The wind picked up then, gusting across the ice and swirling loose snow around their ankles. Sebastian gritted his teeth, wondering if he would ever be warm again.

‘Do you never feel the need to get warm?’ asked Sebastian in a low voice.

‘The Narhl don’t cope well in warm temperatures,’ said Dallen. ‘The heat from a fire, if I sat next to it for any length of time, would cause me to sicken and, eventually, to die. It is also rather uncomfortable. We are tied to our lands, Sebastian; in this and many other ways.’

‘That must be difficult,’ said Sebastian, wishing he hadn’t brought it up. To be so inextricably linked to a place, and then exiled from it. Reluctantly, Sebastian remembered leaving Ynnsmouth, disgrace heavy on his shoulders. ‘What was it you wanted to show me?’

‘Here, look out towards that rock.’ Dallen pointed, and Sebastian peered into the dark. There was another monolith close by, smaller than the one they were camped next to – at some point in the past the top half had broken off, and chunks of black rock were scattered at its base. He looked at the debris, and the area around it, but he could see nothing unexpected. In the far distance he could just make out the grey haze of more mountains. ‘What am I looking for?’

‘Follow the left-hand side of the slab downwards, and then look for the biggest rock. You should see two small points of light.’

Sebastian did as he was told and after a few moments, he saw them. Two small milky white circles, hovering just in front of the rock, where the darkness was thickest. He frowned. It was like suddenly discovering you were being watched by a blind cat.

‘What is that?’

In answer, Dallen took the cold-light from his pack and, turning a small dial on the casing, cast a circle of silvery blue light ahead of them. Sebastian saw a bulky shape briefly illuminated before it skittered sideways and behind the monolith; he got a brief impression of white fur, arched chitinous legs, and serrated claws opening and closing rapidly.

‘By Isu, what was that?’ Whatever it had been, it was a lot larger than the glimpse of its milky white eyes had indicated. Despite himself, Sebastian took a hurried step backwards, and he caught an amused glance from Dallen. It was the first sign of cheer he’d seen from the prince since his soldiers had been killed, and Sebastian was glad to see it, no matter how small or whether it was at his own expense.

‘A snow crab. Our old Narhl word for it is Arichok. A smaller cousin of the arachnos –’ His words dried up and he cleared his throat. ‘A smaller cousin of the creatures that attacked us. Some Narhl actually farm these creatures, and make a very tasty soup from their flesh.’ Dallen glanced at him. ‘A cold soup. Wild Arichoks are much bigger, much more dangerous. Did you see the great claw?’

Sebastian nodded. ‘I could hardly miss it.’

‘Also, their mouths have many sharp moving parts, and these they use to tear . . .’ He stopped again. ‘You see my point.’

‘Yes,’ said Sebastian, thinking of the skeletal arachnos young, and how quickly they had killed Dallen’s squad.

‘They tend to hunt in packs. Where this one was, there will be others. And they can move alarmingly fast when they want to.’ Dallen paused. ‘I just thought I should tell you that. Before you took over.’

‘Thank you,’ said Sebastian, wondering why the atmosphere between them was suddenly tense. ‘I shall certainly keep an eye out. A glimpse of that monster was enough to wake me up fully, at least.’

Dallen nodded once. ‘I will leave you my cold-light,’ he said, and again there was that sense that he wanted to say more but couldn’t force the words past his lips.

‘Is there something wrong, your highness?’

The prince’s eyes grew wide, just for a moment, and then he shook his head.

‘No. I am as well as can be expected. I shall go and see if I can get some sleep before we move off in the morning.’

He left, not looking back, and Sebastian settled himself on the snow, looking out into the silvery night. He was remembering how King Aristees had glared at him when Dallen had grasped his arm; of the disgust and fear that had been in that glance. He’d seen that look often enough, and he wondered if Prince Dallen had grown up seeing it on his father’s face, and on the faces of the men and women of the court. And now he didn’t even have them.

Sebastian pulled his cloak closer around his neck and looked out into the night, watching for the milky eyes of the Arichok.

Gwiddion sat in Frith’s lap, still wrapped in a blanket, opening and closing his beak while Frith tried to drop small morsels of meat down the bird’s narrow throat.

‘Be still, Gwiddion, and this will be a lot easier.’

Frith had smuggled the scraps of food back into the bunk room inside his cloak. He had no idea whether Joah knew about the bird, or cared, but instinctively he felt it was safer to hide the creature, particularly as Gwiddion still seemed unable to turn back into his griffin form. Food had eventually been provided by Joah after Frith had complained about feeling hungry, and the mage had fetched a quite random dinner from who knew where: a large chunk of cold lamb, the fat turned wobbly and white, a handful of heavily spiced bread rolls, and some small, tough yellow fruits that tasted under-ripe. Joah had seemed distracted, barely interested in the food at all, and Frith suspected that if he hadn’t mentioned it, the rogue mage would have carried on working until he dropped down with hunger. When he wasn’t looking, Frith shredded small pieces of the lamb between his fingers and hid them away.

Gwiddion finished up the last of the meat, snapping his beak in what Frith decided to take as a sign of appreciation. From the central chamber there came a sudden low roar, followed by the sound of Joah laughing. Frith hid Gwiddion back on the bunk and went back through the door. The Heart-Stone was now glowing fiercely, almost too bright to look at, while Joah crouched in front of it.

‘What is happening?’ asked Frith. The light coming from the stone flickered, and he had to close his eyes for a moment.

Joah turned round. In the greenish light his face looked skeletal. ‘Oh, Aaron, there you are. I wondered where you’d got to.’ He stood up, wiping his hands on his robes. ‘I wanted you to see this. The Heart-Stone was the final piece of the puzzle, and I would never have found it if I hadn’t been brought back to this place, at this time. I think it was meant to be.’

Frith approached cautiously. The colour of the stone was changing, the eldritch green draining away to become a mottled, bruised colour.

‘Do not look so alarmed, Aaron,’ said Joah. ‘It is quite safe.’

‘What is it?’ Frith asked. The glass tank above the aperture that housed the Heart-Stone was still glowing faintly with its own light.

‘This is the Rivener, my friend, our path to an unlimited source of Edenier.’

‘The Rivener.’ Frith shook his head. The pain was like hot needles being driven into his head, and already his stomach was rolling again. ‘What does it do?’

‘Here, sit. There are a few things I should explain first for you to appreciate it fully.’ Joah pulled a pair of chairs over to a low stone table. There was a bottle of wine there, and Joah poured them both a glass. The liquid looked black in the sickly light. ‘Do you know, Aaron, where Edenier comes from? Where it originated?’

‘I – no. It is the magic of will. That is what I was told.’

Joah nodded and took a sip from his wine, briefly pulling a face. ‘It is, in a way. It is the magic of will, of spirit, quite separate from the magic that suffuses Ede, in places like these hills and mountains.’

Frith sniffed the wine. It smelt better than it looked. ‘I understand that, yes.’

Joah smiled. ‘Of course you do. What you might not have heard is how mages came to have this power in the first place. You see –’ he cleared his throat and glanced back at the Heart-Stone, ‘before the old gods, there was the First God. A being we called Ede, just as we called our world. She was so old that her existence was linked with the world itself. She was a creature of pure will, of spirit alone, and it was said that she was all powerful, and benevolent.’

‘I have heard the name before,’ said Frith. ‘Linked to a goddess, yes. Beyond ancient.’

‘She was, my dear Aaron, and she was pure Edenier. Spirit unencumbered by the physical form, by human needs and vices. Back then the peoples of the world were divided into tribes, and the strongest of these tribes grew wily and clever. They saw the power of Ede, and wanted it for themselves. They took up arms, and with their clever new weapons they slew Ede.’ Joah frowned. ‘The histories, such as they are, are rather vague on this point. And when they killed her, they ate her and claimed the Edenier for their own. That tribe were the very first mages, Aaron.’