The Core

  He worried he’d said too much and she would press for more. He could see the desire in her eyes, but she respected his privacy. “What does the reason matter? The alagai cannot abide your touch, and your honor is boundless.”

  Briar took his hands back out, pulling the wrapping from one to look sadly at the ward beneath. “Think so?”

  Ashia moved over to lay a hand on his shoulder. “I know you do not like to fight, Briar Damaj, but you leapt atop a demon kai for me and my son. Everam is always watching, even if I had not borne witness. You will be received in glory at the end of the lonely path.”

  “Won’t,” Briar said. “Nothin’ I do can make up for what I done.”

  “What happened to your family wasn’t your fault,” Ashia said.

  Briar turned away, knowing he must speak the words now if he was ever to, but fearing what he would see in her eyes. “Was. Laid the fire wrong and filled the house with smoke.”

  Ashia was silent for a time. Too long. Briar wanted to scream, to run off into the mist. Anything to escape the silence of her judgment.

  Instead, she gently squeezed his shoulder. “That was ten years ago, Briar. You were a child. Nothing occurs, but that Everam wills it.”

  “Everam willed me to kill my family?” Briar was incredulous.

  “Perhaps.” Ashia shrugged. “Or perhaps it was going to happen, and He simply did not stop it.”

  Briar looked back at her. “Why?”

  Ashia reached out, touching his face. “All things come second to the First War. Like me, Everam forged you in pain to be a weapon against Nie.”

  “What’s the point of doing anything,” Briar asked, “if it’s all Everam’s will?”

  “My master used to say Everam draws power from our courage. Will is the one gift we can give to aid Him in His never-ending battle against Nie. Everam guides us, but the choice to be fearless or a coward, to fight or flee,” Ashia reached out, touching his chest, “this comes from within.”

  —

  The silk wrapping Ashia’s sandaled feet was soaked through with water and muck from the bogs Briar led them though, zigzagging through the wetlands, sometimes wading hip-deep in water in an attempt to obscure their trail.

  By midmorning he seemed satisfied, leading them onto drier ground. Ashia was completely lost, but Briar seemed at home as they picked up speed on the flatter land. By midday, they made it to the coast, and followed the cliffside up and up.

  The excess magic from the demon kai burned off with the sun, but Ashia knew the danger they were in and said nothing at the brutal pace Briar set. She thought she and her spear sisters had endurance, but Briar Damaj put them all to shame. They covered many miles before the sun began to dip low in the sky.

  “Is it much farther?” she asked finally. The reflection of the setting sun was so bright on the water it stung her eyes, but she knew it heralded darkness soon to come.

  “There.” Briar pointed to a seemingly unremarkable section of cliff, hundreds of feet above the waves crashing below.

  Ashia was going to question, but she could see the confidence on Briar’s face and trusted that he was about to produce one of his usual surprises.

  He went to the edge of the cliff and knelt, reaching over the lip. “This way.”

  He jumped.

  Ashia started, staring a moment before moving to peer over the edge. Dozens of feet below, Briar was sliding down a rope made of braided alagai’viran fibers, secured in a crevice just under the lip of the cliff. He kicked off the rock face to give the rope some swing, and disappeared.

  Ashia sighed, tightening her pack straps to ensure Kaji was secure as she took the vine and rappelled after him. Perhaps thirty feet down the sheer cliff, she came across a small cave, invisible from above, obscured by vines of alagai’viran that appeared natural at a glance.

  She slipped inside and found the cave larger than the entrance had led her to believe. The walls and floor were carpeted in dried demon root, softer and safer than raw stone, preventing alagai from rising in the cave. Too high above the lake for water demons to reach, too far below the cliff’s edge for land demons to notice. The entrance was too small to admit a wind demon with its wings unfurled, even if it should see past the curtain that grew across the entrance.

  “What do you think?” Briar asked at last.

  Ashia smiled at him as she took Kaji from his straps. “It is perfect, son of Relan. Your skill is as boundless as your honor.”

  Briar grinned, walking past her to part the alagai’viran vines covering the entrance like a curtain. “Haven’t even looked at the best part.”

  Ashia turned, and the view took her breath away. The lake spread out before them, the horizon glittering with the last rays of the sun, sky brilliant in purple, white, and blue.

  Kaji’s eyes were wide. He pointed at the horizon. “Wud?” He wanted to know the word for what he was seeing.

  Ashia hesitated. What word could do justice to such a sight? Sunset fell far short.

  She knelt, placing Kaji on the ground beside her. She touched her hands to the floor, and he mimicked her. “It is Everam, my son. Creator of all things, Giver of Life and Light. It is for Him we live. It is for Him we fight. It will be for Him, when we die.”

  She began to sing The Prayer of Coming Night to him. Briar did not join them, but Ashia’s sharp ears caught him stumbling through the words under his breath, as if sifting it from memory.

  When the prayers were done, Briar pointed north. “There’s the monastery.”

  Ashia had to lean her head out of the cave mouth to see, but there it was, a fortress alone on a high bluff jutting out over the water. Lights glowed in its tower windows and on its walls.

  More lights shone out on the water, marking the fleet of Laktonian ships that held the blockade.

  “More’n they need to cover the docks,” Briar said.

  “Do they mean to take the fortress?” Ashia asked. With their numbers, the fish men could likely take the docks and storm the fort, but seeing the long climb from the water, Ashia knew the cost in lives would be enormous.

  “Maybe bait for Qeran,” Briar said. “Try’n pull his ships north.”

  “He won’t be fooled,” Ashia said. She took Kaji inside, feeding and changing the boy in the warm glow of Everam’s light. Briar had no wards around his eyes, but he moved about as comfortably in the near pitch blackness as he did in the light of day.

  They moved in silence for a time, preparing a cold meal and eating, lost in their own thoughts. Kaji was the first asleep, and soon Briar followed suit, curling into a small nook at the back of the cave, breath calm and even.

  Ashia closed her eyes, seeking the shallow sleep of her training, but tired as she was, it was difficult to find. Too many images flashing across her mind. Kaji’s first steps. The mimic in Briar’s form. The swarm of alagai tearing Rasa apart. The ring of demons closing on her helpless son.

  The weight of her body seemed to double. She slumped, succumbing to the insistence of deeper sleep, where the images became nightmares filled with flashing claws and demon shrieks.

  She started, coming awake. There was the cry again. It hadn’t been a dream. Had the alagai found their hiding place? If so, there was no escape. They would need to hold the entrance till dawn. With her circle laid across the narrow threshold, it was possible.

  Unless there was another mimic on their trail.

  Ashia drew her spears, rolling to her feet, but Briar was already moving past her, darting to the cave mouth to seek the source of the cries. She moved close and readied herself for action as he stuck his neck out past the wards to look upward.

  There was a flash of light, and Briar gasped and pulled himself inside, scrambling back as a wind demon dropped right in front of the cave mouth, opening its wings with a great snap! and catching itself on a current of air.

  The demon was lit from below, visible without Everam’s light, and Ashia realized in horror that it clutched a flame demon in its talons,
the glow of the creature’s eyes and mouth illuminating the carrier.

  She readied her spear for a throw, but hesitated. If she threw out over the water, there would be no retrieving the weapon.

  But then the demon flapped off into the night, soaring out over the water away from the cave—unaware of their presence.

  Ashia and Briar returned to the entrance, watching the sky come alive as dozens of wind demons leapt from the cliff with their burning payloads, winging out onto the water.

  “What in the abyss could they be doing?” Ashia whispered.

  “Fightin’?” Briar asked. “Flamers don’t get on with other cories ’cept rockies. Maybe they’re gonna drop them in the lake?”

  Ashia shook her head. “The winds are not dropping them, and the flames are not struggling. This is some stratagem.”

  “For what?” The answer to Briar’s question became obvious as the flight of wind demons banked with uniform precision, soaring toward the Laktonian fleet.

  Ashia drew a ward in the air. “Everam preserve us.”

  The wind demons threw out their wings, abruptly changing direction and using the momentum to fling their charges at the sails. Flames blossomed on the canvas as the demons slid down to the deck, spitting fire on crew and boards alike. They raced across the decks leaving a burning trail, then leapt suicidally from the bows.

  But they did not fall into the water. The wind demons, circling above, swept in and caught them again, winging back toward the cliffs, their part in the attack complete.

  In moments it was done. Burning crew members ran across the decks of every ship, some rolling on the deck, vainly trying to extinguish themselves, others leaping into the lake, heedless of the water demons.

  The remaining sailors beat frantically at the flames, but firespit was sticky, clinging to everything used to beat at it. A bucket brigade formed, but the water only made things worse. Demonfire was so hot the water instantly turned to steam that sent fire leaping through the air to stick wherever it spattered.

  Soon the ships were engulfed in flames, visible for miles in the dark of night until at last the heat and smoke weakened the wards on the hulls. Water demons churned the waves around the ships, pulling them under, flames winking out one by one.

  “What?” Briar’s face was lit in the glow.

  Ashia reached out, taking his hand and squeezing it. She did not know if the act was to comfort him, or herself.

  “Sharak Ka has begun.”

  CHAPTER 25

  THE MOUTH OF THE ABYSS

  334 AR

  “Beloved.”

  The moon was a scant crescent of silver light as Jardir circled the night sky. He could see demons thick in the lands below, glowing like torches to his crownsight.

  “I am here, my love,” Inevera responded almost instantly.

  “We approach the gateway to the abyss,” Jardir said. “We are far from civilization, but alagai are thick in the area. The ambient magic is increasing. This may be the last time we speak before I pass beyond even the reach of the Crown of Kaji.”

  Below, the Par’chin and his Jiwah Ka, wards of unsight glowing softly on their skin, escorted Alagai Ka’s prison. Shanvah drove the small wagon, its steel car covered in the Par’chin’s wardings, containing the evil within and masking it from the evil without. Her father sat chained to the bench next to her, staring blankly into the distance.

  If those protections had not been enough, Shanvah’s voice enveloped them, amplified by the choker her spear sister had given her. She sang a verse of the Song of Waning over and over, a beautiful, tranquil melody that threatened to ensorcell even Jardir.

  Watching from above, Jardir could see the wards protecting the party below. They glowed in crownsight—the limit of their light’s reach the limit of their power. Shanvah’s magic was subtler, but its effect was unmistakable. The movements of the alagai rippled as they came into her range, subtly steering away without rousing attention.

  “My niece has grown powerful,” Jardir said. “Truly Everam’s Plan is unknowable. There are Spears of the Deliverer who fought by my side for twenty years. I have so many sons I cannot claim to know them all. Yet it is my niece, barely old enough for marriage, chosen to walk with me into the Mouth of the Abyss and bear the weight of Sharak Ka.”

  “Forgive me, beloved, for every unkind word I have ever spoken of your sisters,” Inevera said. “From their wombs sprang three of the greatest warriors Ala has ever known.”

  “Everam grant they be enough.”

  “Have you slept?” Inevera asked.

  “We rested for an hour, when the sun was high,” Jardir said.

  “That is not enough, husband,” Inevera said. “Magic can restore vitality, but your minds need to dream, or you risk madness.”

  “Then I pray we can stave it off until our duty is complete,” Jardir said. “After that, it does not matter.”

  “Of course it matters,” Inevera said.

  “We will sleep in the coming day,” Jardir said. “Tomorrow night is Waning, when we will set Alagai Ka free to guide us on the path into the dark below. I fear there will be no sleep after that, until victory or death.”

  “Where are you?” Inevera asked.

  “Just north of the mountain where the Par’chin and I fought Domin Sharum. There is power here, beloved. I understand now why the Par’chin was drawn to it.”

  “Your voice grows fainter,” Inevera said. “Open your heart to me one last time. What do you feel as you approach the Mouth of the Abyss?”

  “Eager.” Jardir hesitated. It was true, but not the whole truth. “Afraid. Afraid I will fail you. Afraid I will fail all Ala. Afraid I will be weak, and Everam forsake me in my hour of need.”

  “These are the fears of all Everam’s children, while Nie exists,” Inevera said. “It is only just that the Deliverer feel them most of all. But I have watched you all your life, son of Hoshkamin. If you cannot bear the weight of Sharak Ka, then it cannot be borne.”

  Jardir swallowed a knot in his throat. “Thank you, beloved.”

  “Thank me by—” The words cut out, and suddenly Jardir heard only wind. He stopped, even flying back to try to reestablish the connection, but he could not find it again without traveling farther from the wagon than he dared.

  Below, the father of demons lay thrice-bound—once on his very skin, once by silver warded chains, and a third time by warded steel walls.

  The journey is long, and you are mortal, Alagai Ka promised. The time will come when your guard grows lax, and then I will be free.

  It was a prophecy Jardir could not let come to pass. Twice, they had battled Alagai Ka, and twice the prince of Nie nearly defeated them. If he should manage to summon aid when released, there were alagai enough in the area to overwhelm even Everam’s chosen.

  “Farewell, beloved,” he whispered to the wind as he flew back to watch over the wagon.

  —

  They followed ancient roads gleaned from the Par’chin’s dusty maps. Through prairies and deep wood, cutting this way and that to avoid hamlets and refugee camps as they made their way up into the forested foothills. The road vanished soon after, heavily overgrown over the centuries. There were paths wide enough for the wagon, but only barely.

  From his high vantage Jardir noticed something strange. The road reappeared up ahead, having seen regular use, and recently. He flew higher, and saw why.

  He activated the crown, speaking to his companions below. “There is a large village ahead. Guard the father of demons closely while I investigate.”

  “Ay, think we can manage,” the Par’chin said.

  Jardir Drew hard on the power of the spear, launching himself toward the town in the distance. After so many weeks at a crawl, it felt good to flex his power.

  The village, hidden in the trees, came into view, and Jardir pulled up so short the force of it wracked his body.

  Surrounding the village were ancient stone obelisks, each standing twenty feet tall and weighin
g many tons. The wards on their pitted surfaces were still strong enough to hold the alagai at bay.

  But what truly shocked Jardir was that they, and the village beyond, were Krasian in design. Not modern script and architecture; more like the remnants of Anoch Sun. What were a lost tribe of his people doing so far north?

  And where had they gone?

  —

  Shanvah dropped to her knees when she returned from searching buildings. “There are no signs of battle, Deliverer. It looks as if everyone abruptly gathered supplies and left peacefully.”

  The Par’chin frowned. “Lot of that goin’ around, since you folk came out of the desert, spears wavin’.”

  Jardir ignored the barb. “This far north, Par’chin? I doubt they even had word of my coming.”

  “Deliverer,” Shanvah said. “Could this be the remains of Anoch Dahl?”

  Renna tilted her head. “City of…Darkness?”

  “Just so,” Jardir agreed. “Kaji built Anoch Dahl to supply his army as he took them into the abyss.”

  You will find a piece of Kaji, Inevera said. A gift from your ancestor to guide you in the dark. Could that be what this was? A marker left by the Deliverer to his heirs?

  The Par’chin blew out a breath. “And they survived three thousand years, only to pack up and leave for no reason…what? A year ago?”

  “Less,” Shanvah reported. “Months.”

  “When Alagai Ka staged his assault on Waning,” Jardir guessed.

  “Sure as the sun ent a coincidence,” Renna said.

  “We will learn soon enough,” Jardir said. “We must rest now, while the sun is in the sky. It may be the last sleep of our lives, for tonight we release Alagai Ka.”

  —

  The prison was hot under the hated day star. The metal walls acted like an oven, the inside reaching temperatures that would be fatal to the surface stock.

  The heat was less a comfort than the lack of discomfort, but it remained the one tolerable thing about the Consort’s captivity.

  Everything else was pain. Each bump of the primitive conveyance jolted the demon, pulling the silver chains tight, their wards bringing fresh agony and shame. When his captors fed him at all, it was with the minds of animals, a diet of fat with no meat. Chained, he was forced to sacrifice the last of his dignity to crawl, each movement a new torture, to press his face against the disgusting flesh, sizzling in the heat. The prison stank of it.