Prisoner of Fate (41 page)

Erin cocked an eyebrow and nodded slowly. ‘My sister, Megen, told me once, when I was pondering a question that weighed heavily on me, that I would know the answer when the time came.’ He reached inside his black robe and touched the ridge in his skin under which the amber jewel sat. ‘I made a choice and I have lived with it. It’s the best we can ever hope to do.’

‘Why do you stay down here?’ Meg asked. ‘Why don’t you live outside?’

Erin met her gaze and a thin, paradoxical smile graced his lips. ‘The choice I was asked to make was to either open what the Khvechevik buried here to the world or leave it sealed forever. I inherited one of the amber jewels, like you, and with it I can be the most powerful creature in the world. I can create, dominate, destroy whatever I want. I can be everything that people describe in all these books—omnipotent—a Dragonlord, if I use the term of the ancient people. I can be a god. Every spell ever created, every piece of knowledge, every human heartache and dream—they’re all recorded in this library and with this amber gem I could unlock and unleash all of them. That was my choice. It was my choice to make.’

‘And you chose to seal yourself in,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ he replied.

‘Why?’

‘It was the easier choice,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t want that responsibility. Other people could see all the power and the adulation I could glean if I unsealed this library and used it to my advantage. All I could see was the misery it would bring—not just to me, but also to everyone around me. “He who has power and does not use it wisely, as it should be used, should not use it at all.” Have you ever read that?’ Meg shook her head. ‘I read it in
Jaru’s Gift.
Read it if you ever get the chance. I thought about it and decided I was not the person to
wield such power. It’s too much for any person, no matter how good their intentions might be. These books are full of stories of people tragically destroyed by their own power. History repeats the lesson over and over. I had a chance to make a choice and I made it. The world outside is not for me. I live here. It is where I will always be.’ He finished, and he seemed to be waiting for her approval.

‘I made the same choice,’ she said. ‘I gave away the amber twice in the vain hope that I could live a normal life, and both times I lost my family because of it. I didn’t see that before. Now I do.’ She touched the amber under her tunic. ‘I’ve run from my responsibility. I’m getting too old to run much further.’ She smiled at Erin. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what?’ he asked.

‘Opening my eyes.’

‘They’re just books,’ he said.

Meg nodded. ‘Yes, but they contain our humanity. When I was allowed to read in the Royal library as a young girl, I couldn’t read enough. I read everything I could. The amber was a blessing. The Seers abandoned me on an island and sent the heretical books with me, but I couldn’t have been given a better gift. I cried when they were burned. I gathered them around me like old friends in my shop in Port of Joy. They’re not just books.’

‘So what will you do, now that you’ve got what you came to find?’

Meg looked at the young man, ageless because of the amber and his choice to create a version of Se’Treya out of the old Khvechevik library, and said, ‘I’ll do what I can do to set things right. It’s the only choice I have left.’

I
t was very dark when she appeared in the rubble of the Khvech Daas. She was surprised that so much time had passed—a whole day—and surprised that a fire wasn’t lit.
Something is wrong
, she decided, and suddenly wary she stood stock still and listened. A breeze rustled the surrounding tree canopies, but the city ruin was silent. She almost called out to find where the others were, but she held her tongue and placed her hand over the amber. Her sight shifted into night-vision, a skill that she hadn’t practised for a very long time, and she surveyed the ruin until she located two prone figures at the edge of the bushes. A few paces away from the sleepers, she spotted the third person, Swift, crouched on watch. She took two cautious steps forward, dislodging a fragment of marble, and Swift turned sharply, staring at her. ‘It’s me,’ she said.

Swift hissed, ‘Where have you been?’

Meg approached as quietly as she could and said, ‘I found the library.’

‘Keep your voice down,’ Swift whispered harshly.

‘Why?’

‘Kerwyn.’

‘Where?’

‘Somewhere out there. They came while you were away. Where did you go?’

‘Under the rubble. The library is buried there.’

‘Where did you get in? We couldn’t find any entry.’

‘I used magic,’ Meg replied. ‘There’s no other way in.’

‘Where’s the rat?’

‘She’s staying there.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s a—’

‘Long story, I know,’ Swift cut in. ‘We could use your magic to get us out of here.’

‘Are you sure they’re Kerwyn?’

Swift briefly explained what had unfolded in the afternoon. ‘Chase is not coping,’ she told Meg. ‘He blames himself for leaving Passion.’

‘It might not be her fault. She could still be safe,’ Meg argued.

‘But how else could the Kerwyn have learned where we are? Did you tell anyone else?’

‘No. But it depends on what the Seers know about me now. One soldier escaped in Shesskar-sharel. If they know I’m alive, they’ll send an army here.’

‘Are you
that
dangerous?’ Swift asked.

Meg left the question unanswered. ‘How long have you been on watch?’

‘Just started. Wahim took the first.’

‘Call me when it’s time to swap. Let Chase sleep longer,’ Meg offered, adding, ‘We’ll work out a plan in the morning.’

It didn’t seem long before Swift was waking her to take her watch and she struggled to keep her eyes open in the darkness. She gazed up at the stars flickering and vanishing behind clouds. She had read, when she was a very young woman in the Royal library, how
philosophers speculated that each star was a miniature sun and the universe had hundreds of worlds like her own. If that was true, were there hundreds of Megs out there facing the same questions and futures? And if that was true, were they all fated to make the same decisions, or did each one have the free will to choose to act however she wished? And did that mean that some Megs ended up living different lives entirely to the one she was living?

The rush of the breeze through the vegetation reminded her of the sound of the ocean aboard Captain Marlin’s schooner. She had wasted so much of her life, years in the grip of depression and euphoria, while the generations of Seers kept doggedly pursuing their goal to release the Demon Horsemen. What if they had succeeded while she was wallowing in her misery? Would she have cared or even known, rocking in an ocean of euphoria?

She pondered Erin’s quotation concerning power and the choice to use it. Why was it that so many people who gained power and privilege abused it selfishly? Was it so easy to get drunk on power? When he said that he’d taken the easy choice by abrogating his responsibility and sealing himself in the library, she realised that was exactly what she had done. She had sealed herself in her family, twice, to avoid facing the responsibility that came with the legacy of the amber, and then again in the euphoria at sea, and finally in anonymity as Batty Booker the bookshop owner. She was the only person with the knowledge and the power to stop the Seers
before
they released the Demon Horsemen and yet she had run from the very task she was fated to fulfil. The running had to end.

She lifted the necklet attached to the amber over her head and loosened the knot to release the sliver and rolled it in her palm, feeling its silky texture. Then she
stretched out on the ground, staring up at the stars, and opened her tunic until she could place the amber on her chest and pressed both palms over it.
I’ve done this before
, she mused whimsically.
But can I remember how?
She closed her eyes and imagined the gem sinking into her skin. There had been a rhythmic chant to accompany the spell, she remembered, when she had embedded the amber in her chest on the island. That seemed like another lifetime now.
The amber responds to your will
, she reminded herself.
Only the ignorant believe spells can be created from words and movements. Spells are the energy patterns we will into existence, amplified by the amber.
She felt the crystal grow warm and remembered there would be brutal pain. And when it came she cried at the stars.

Perched in the Khvech Daas trees on a thick branch that afforded a view, Meg and Swift observed the distant palace ruin. The brittle morning sunlight glittered on the distant river and made the white fabric of the moored flying machine incandescent. ‘It’s a Ranu dragon egg,’ Meg said. ‘You call them airbirds, but these are far more sophisticated than anything the Kerwyn have ever built. Are you sure the soldiers you saw were Kerwyn?’

‘I know a soldier when I see one,’ Swift replied, annoyed that Meg doubted what she’d seen. ‘They’re Kerwyn.’ A shot echoed somewhere to the south, among the ruins.

‘And there were five groups of six fanning out through the city?’

‘Yes, one group heading this way. I thought they would come straight here.’

‘But they’re being very methodical and slow, which means they’re definitely looking for someone.’

‘Us,’ said Swift.

Meg nodded. ‘They don’t want anyone to know about the contents of the bag.’

‘And did you find out what it is?’

‘Yes.’ Another shot reverberated across the city, and another immediately after.

Swift waited for Meg to elaborate, but Meg was silently observing the ruins. ‘So what is it?’ Swift asked.

‘A weapon,’ Meg replied, matter-of-factly. ‘It can destroy the Demon Horsemen. It was built to slay dragons and Dragonlords.’ Swift stared at her. ‘You don’t believe me,’ Meg said.

‘Dragons?’ Swift quizzed.

‘They were real, a long time ago,’ Meg told her calmly. She sucked in her cheeks and said, ‘Actually, not that long ago. The Khvechevik here in Chuekwer worshipped the Dragonkin, and the last of the Dragonkin was killed just a few hundred years ago.’

Swift shivered. ‘I thought they were fantasy stories.’

‘Most people do. It’s almost impossible to imagine how a creature like a dragon could exist, but they were magical constructs, originally created by the Dragonlords who themselves were self-created magical constructs—Alfyn who abused the Genesis Stone by embedding it within themselves to amplify their magical power.’ She stopped, realising what she’d said.
A Ahmud Ki thought I was a Dragonlord when we first met
, she remembered.
Now I understand.
And she felt a pang of regret for having re-embedded the amber.

‘So what will we do?’ Swift asked.

As Meg reordered her thoughts, she glimpsed a red uniform in the ruins, less than a hundred paces from the dry moat surrounding the Khvech Daas, and pointed out the soldier to Swift. They watched five more soldiers come into view, moving slowly through the buildings, carrying shiny weapons. ‘Ranu peacemakers,’ Meg noted and when Swift asked her what she meant
she briefly explained the difference between the thundermakers and peacemakers. ‘Fighting isn’t an option,’ she added.

‘We can make a run for it,’ Swift suggested. ‘There’s just enough space for us to make a break into the range to the north.’

‘They’d spot us,’ Meg argued. ‘And if they didn’t, they’d keep hunting for us. They expect to find us here. They’ll keep searching for us until they are absolutely certain we never came here.’

‘What else can we do?’

‘I have an idea,’ said Meg and she began to shimmy down the tree branch.

‘What?’ Swift asked.

Meg stood on a limb, looked up at the young woman, and said, ‘We’ll make them think we never came here.’

Swift, Chase and Wahim stared at the blue haze shimmering in the gap between two marble blocks. ‘There’s not enough time to explain,’ Meg urged as she finished conjuring. ‘The soldiers will be here shortly. Trust me and step into the portal.’

Chase looked at Swift. ‘After you,’ he said.

Swift looked at Meg who said, ‘It might be dark or there might be someone there. Don’t panic. Wait for me to arrive.’

Swift drew her knife. ‘You won’t need that,’ Meg told her. ‘Whisper is on the other side.’ Swift resheathed her weapon, took a deep breath and stepped into the light—and vanished. ‘Chase?’ Meg urged.

Chase swallowed and stepped through. Wahim followed him. Meg looked towards the tunnel through the Khvech Daas foliage, wondering if the soldiers had found it.
It won’t matter now
, she thought.
Time for some cunning and patience.
She reminded herself of the
cardinal rule to close a portal after using it, smiled with satisfaction at her work and stepped into the light.

The octagonal room was lit when she entered to find her three companions facing Erin who was nursing Whisper, and Erin’s expression showed that he was as astonished as Swift, Chase and Wahim at their arrival. ‘I think introductions are in order,’ Meg said, and she quickly introduced everyone, finishing with, ‘This will be our home for a short while.’

‘Why did you do this?’ Erin asked. ‘Why bring them here?’

Meg explained what had transpired above ground. ‘So this is the only choice,’ she argued. ‘The Kerwyn won’t find us and eventually they’ll think we never came here.’

‘How long will that take?’ Swift asked.

‘As long as it takes for the Kerwyn to give up and leave Chuekwer,’ Meg answered. ‘Patience is the key—patience and cunning.’

‘Like the rabbits,’ said Chase.

‘What about water? And food?’ Wahim asked.

‘I don’t have any,’ said Erin.

Wahim, Chase and Swift looked at him. ‘How do you live down here?’ Swift asked.

Erin looked at Meg. ‘He has magic,’ she said.

‘To live without
eating
?’ Chase queried. ‘How?’

‘I learned how to use magic to stop my body from changing. I don’t age, I don’t sleep and I don’t get hungry or thirsty,’ Erin told them.

‘Can you teach me how to do that?’ Swift asked.

Erin shook his head. ‘We’re different to you. People used to think it was possible to learn magic, but in fact it’s to do with something else.’ He looked at Meg. ‘Do they know?’

‘About the amber?’ Meg asked. Erin nodded. ‘No.’

‘You told us the story of Lady Amber,’ Chase reminded her.

Meg smiled. ‘About me, yes. But there’s more to the story than the legend.’

‘Like what?’

‘A lot of things.’

‘We’re listening,’ said Chase. ‘We don’t seem to be going anywhere else for a while.’

‘And the truth this time,’ said Swift cynically. ‘We’re stuck with you, but you’re also stuck with us. We should know the whole truth.’

‘You still haven’t told me what we’re going to eat and drink,’ Wahim reminded her.

‘I’ll provide what you’ll need,’ Meg said. ‘I have some tricks you haven’t seen yet.’

‘How long will we stay here?’ Chase inquired.

‘A few days or so,’ Meg explained, ‘but it will seem very quick to us. This place is like Se’Treya. Outside, time will go much faster,’ but she knew her companions didn’t understand the discrepancy in time that would occur while they hid. How could she explain to them that the magic used to construct Se’Treya and sustain the old Khvech Daas library could alter the passage of time?

Hordemaster Lowvalley stood with his hands on his hips and stared at the pile of ash at the edge of the rubble-filled clearing and snorted disdainfully. ‘Rabbit hunters!’ he said with a sneer. He turned on his heel and negotiated the marble rubble until he reached the tunnel that his soldiers had hacked through the overgrown garden surrounding the site. He stopped and gave a short order to the six men who’d found the clearing and the abandoned camp site to start searching the ruins to the north-east. Then he bent low and passed through the tunnel, occasionally catching his coat on ragged twigs.

Outside the Khvech Daas location, he straightened and took off his cap to wipe the light perspiration from
his receding hairline and forehead. The old city was a monumental ruin of a size and scope that fascinated him and filled him with awe, easily ten times the size of Port of Joy. Flying over it in the Ranu dragon egg, he wondered how many people had lived in so large a place, and how they managed to build structures out of stone that even as ruins looked as if they would dwarf the Port of Joy palace.

The flight east had been long and difficult, and within a few days he expected to begin the return journey, and he was not enamoured of the prospect. He scratched his neck, replaced his red cap, and waited as the six soldiers crossed the dry moat and began to circle to the west. He estimated when he arrived that it would take his thirty men fully eight days to thoroughly search the city, assuming his quarry were at the ruins. After all, it was possible that they hadn’t yet arrived. Before he left Port of Joy, the royal cartographers told him that it would take at least forty days for a person to travel across land from Port of Joy to Chuekwer. If they had procured horse transport beyond Shesskar-Sharel, they might cut the journey time by a few days. By his estimation, and according to the details supplied by Warlord Fist, his arrival coincided with thirty-eight days since the fugitives had escaped. Already, the signs were that the people Warlord Fist wanted hadn’t reached the city. His men had flushed out three parties of local men who were hunting the strange little grey-and-white animals they called rabbits. Translating the Ashuak tongue was almost impossible, but he had a clever young man in his squad who had a knack for working out what a non-Kerwyn or non-Shessian speaker was saying. He made some sense of the babbling rabbit hunters who were clearly afraid that the soldiers were going to shoot them.
And that was tempting
, he considered.