Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1) (20 page)

“Where have you been?” Jhareth asked.

Nerris launched into a brief explanation of what had transpired in the great hall. At the conclusion, Astoren leapt to his feet.

“Treason!” the young knight said. “I knew there was something amiss about that Congir, but Sir Eddwar assured me I was biased because he was born common.”

“And probably not even in Faerna,” Nerris said. “He yelled the word
yenak
when Len-Ahl sent him careening into that pillar. I soldiered in Yagolhan for the better part of a year, and I’ve heard that curse before. Our Yagol prime minister disguises his accent well.”

“How could a Yagol become a member of the royal council?” Dist asked.

“Yagols look much the same as the rest of us,” Jhareth said, “and there is no trade between the two countries. I doubt most Faernans have even seen a Yagol before.” He shook his head.

“And if he’s Yagol, that suggests Queen Qabala is behind this,” Nerris said.

Jhareth rubbed at his eyes. “All right, several things have fallen into place. If he’s behind this so-called Church conspiracy, he means to drive a wedge between the crown and its people. Faerna is the fighting heart of any Alliance force, and if you stop the heart, you stop the rest of the body. If she does decide to invade the east, it’s in her best interest if the east is destabilized.”

“So what do we do about it?” Dist asked.

“We do what Len-Ahl suggested,” Nerris said. “We find the Exemplus, and use it to take our country back.” He turned to Astoren. “Do you think you can sneak us out of the castle? We have to leave now. Today.”

“But I’ve already paid for passage on that cog,” Jhareth protested.

“It can’t be helped,” Nerris said. “We need to find a ship leaving today.”

“I can get you out of the castle undetected,” Astoren said.

Nerris nodded. “Once we’re gone, don’t go and do anything stupid, like confronting Congir. That’s the surest way to get killed. In fact, he may come after you just for being my cousin. Perhaps it’s best if you left the city as well.”

“I know,” Astoren said. “At my first opportunity, I’ll ride forth from the city myself and head for Renoa. Prince Camion must know about this. He’ll have to return and take the kingdom in hand, by force if necessary.”

“No,” Len-Ahl said. “That is exactly what Congir wants to happen. You must hold off any conflict until we can return with the Exemplus.”

“Do as she says, Astoren,” Nerris said. “Len-Ahl seems to have answers the rest of us lack. Once we’re out to sea, I mean to question her on a few points.”

Len-Ahl nodded. “I will tell you what I can.”

Dist rubbed at his temple. “I don’t understand any of this.”

“You’re not in exclusive company,” Nerris said.

“Well, then.” Jhareth rose to his feet and gathered up his copies of the Stonechaser scrolls. “As much as I don’t like to leave King Maerlos in this predicament, it looks like we have a clear course before us. Let’s get after some treasure.”

Chapter Twenty

CAPTAIN JORGA WAS a large man with a big belly, and a bushy beard which hung almost to his chest. His eyes were friendly, his demeanor genial, and he had taken them onto his ship for a mere pittance. But that did not mean Nerris had to like him.

He was fond of the man himself. However, Captain Jorga was loud, blustery, smelled of smoked fish, and his carelessness at sea gave Nerris nightmares whenever he chanced to sleep near open water. In his favor, Captain Jorga was a fast friend to the Thrillseekers and agreed to set sail two days before schedule. He greeted Nerris with a crushing bear hug as he reached the top of the gang plank.

“I couldn’t believe my eyes when Jhareth marched up to my ship,” he said, following with a big belly laugh. “What luck my love and me happened to be in the city when you needed my help!” He affectionately patted the rail of the ship he had named
The Sea Tart
.

“Yes, luck,” Nerris muttered, dreading the seasickness to come.

“And what have we here?” Jorga said, catching sight of Len-Ahl. “My, you are a pretty one. It’s not often one sees the Thrillseekers with a woman. Aye, haven’t seen a lass like you since we sailed the skies with the lovely faermaid Laria Salville.” He craned his neck in Jhareth’s direction. “Jhareth, didn’t you have a thing for her?”

Nerris rolled his eyes. Jorga would spend all day reminiscing if they let him. “Len-Ahl, this is our old friend Captain Jorga,” he said. “He’s helped us out in a few tight predicaments.”

“You said you sailed the skies?” Len-Ahl said with wonder.

“Aye!” Jorga turned back to them and beamed at Len-Ahl. “A skyship, wonder of the ancient world, based on a lost art of ship making.
The Skylark
, Jamellos Laveston dubbed her.”

“We had somewhere very high we needed to go,” Nerris explained. “Our benefactor at the time, Jamellos Laveston, spent several years researching ancient tomes and texts for clues on how to restore a ship which could fly through the air.” He jerked his head toward Jorga. “He finally succeeded, and then this lump crashed it.”

“Hey,” Jorga protested. “I was the one you picked to pilot, wasn’t I?”

“You were the only one fool enough to volunteer,” Dist said as he passed by.

“Jorga has this thing with his ships,” Nerris told Len-Ahl. “They tend to end up at the bottom of the ocean, sooner or later.”

“It’s my curse,” Jorga admitted.

“It’s because you like to drink behind the helm,” Dist said, looking around. “For the love of Clystam, Jorga, didn’t anyone ever tell you when you sink the old boat, you buy a better one? There are patches in the sails!”

Dist pointed up, and Nerris followed his finger. Sure enough, the main mast looked like it had succumbed to a bout of leprosy. All throughout the deck, as well, were quite a few spots where rotten wood had been replaced with planks and boards nailed over the holes.

“You were expecting a pleasure barge?” Jorga asked. “Times are lean, and I’ve had to resort to hauling pickles lately. Not much big money in trading produce.”

“I hope Jhareth didn’t swindle you on our passage,” Nerris said.

“Think nothing of it,” Jorga said. “I don’t know what kind of adventure you’re on, but the sea is at your disposal as long as I’m with you.”

“We just want to get to Orrigo,” Jhareth said. “Let’s not get carried away.”

Jorga grinned. “Jhareth, when have I ever gotten carried away?”

None of them chose to answer.

Once they were out of the harbor, they found a strong wind to pull their creaky cog west. As soon as they cleared the Arm, they could turn south for Orrigo. If the wind held up, they would dock in the harbor after a mere three days. Nerris supposed he should be grateful the trip would be short. As good as it was to see Captain Jorga again, he had no desire to stay on any ship of his longer than he had to.

As the sun set in front of them that evening, Nerris found Len-Ahl at the starboard gunwale. Her eyes were closed, and her golden hair billowed in the sea breeze. Nerris stopped beside her and rested his arms on the rail. He wanted to ask Len-Ahl about what had happened back in the great hall at Faerlin Castle, but she looked to be at such peace it would be a shame to sully her moment with talk of dark events.

“The air smells different here,” she said after a few moments of silence.

“It’s the salt in the water,” Nerris said. “I keep forgetting this is your first time at sea.”

“Does it go on like this forever?” Len-Ahl asked.

Nerris looked ahead, aware of the sunset to his left. “If you keep going out this way, you’ll run into Hilonia eventually. To the far east, out past Miagama and the Huku Islands, lies the water known as the Endless Ocean. No one who has attempted to cross has ever come back.”

“Not even in one of those skyships?”

“The skyships only work over land,” Nerris said. “We found that out when we tried to fly over Lake Lilo. But who knows what the ancients were able to accomplish? Much of their technology was lost with the fall of the Aristian Empire.” He leaned over the side, watching the waves break against the ship’s hull. “There are those who believe all the world’s landmasses are merely large rafts floating slowly over the vast oceans. They say somewhere out there, the ocean drops off into an enormous waterfall known as the Great Cataract. One day Tormalia, Egkari, the Chei sub-continent, all of it, will come upon the Great Cataract and go over the edge. And that will be how the world ends.”

“That would be a poor end for the lands of the world,” Len-Ahl said. “All that has been accomplished swept away in an instant.”

“It’s just an old story,” Nerris said.

“I can see how the vastness of the sea would give rise to such tales. When we first set sail I was overwhelmed with a feeling of smallness. It was an odd sensation.”

“Are you feeling sick at all? A first time at sea can do that to some people.”

“Oh, no,” Len-Ahl said. “I like it. The sounds of the waves hitting the ship, the salty breeze... such a perfect union of wind and water. Undines and sylphs, in perfect harmony.”

“Undines?”

“Water faeries,” she said, opening her eyes. “I have been watching them at play for hours now. They are so innocent out here. They know nothing of the land and all its problems.”

Nerris vaguely remembered Len-Ahl telling him sylphs were the faeries of the air. He squinted, casting a long look into the Aristian Sea. “I can’t see anything.”

“It is harder for someone of this world to sense the faery realm,” Len-Ahl said, “but it can be done. Close your eyes.” Nerris did so, and Len-Ahl put a hand on his arm. “Imagine yourself sitting on a distant shore. Hear the waves breaking against the sand and rocks, and feel the spray of the mist against your skin. Look at the mist drawing closer to you, enveloping you, and feel it caress you with its gentle touch.”

Nerris could visualize and feel everything Len-Ahl said. Soon, he could feel the wet mist encircling him, drawing him away from his shore. He felt a sense of life he hadn’t felt in years. A safe, exhilarated feeling. He opened his eyes in time to catch sight of something on the waves. Before his mind could register what he saw, it had vanished, a splash in the water the only evidence to mark its passage.

“Did you see it?” Len-Ahl asked.

Nerris felt a bit disappointed. “Only some fish.”

“Perhaps,” Len-Ahl said. “I know why you came over here, Nerris. You have questions.”

“Many questions,” he said. “Where to start?”

“With whatever is on your mind right now.”

“Who are you?” Nerris asked. “I know now you are no mere Oak Forest curiosity. The beings you converse with, what you did back in the great hall... you have some connection to all this cult business.”

“As do you,” Len-Ahl said, gazing at him with her deep green eyes. “Am I right?”

“Yes,” Nerris said. “I encountered them when I was in Yagolhan, six months ago.”

“I had never met one before Congir,” Len-Ahl said, “yet I suspected what he was. The reason I came with you, my purpose for being, is to fight those who would undo Angelica’s great works.”

“Angelica, Queen of the Faeries,” Nerris said. “It always seems to come back to her. You’re one of them, aren’t you? A faery.”

“Yes and no,” Len-Ahl said. “You heard Congir call me a child of the Xenea, no doubt. Xenea is the proper name for the faeries and it is true my mother was one. However, my father was human.”

“A half-faery?”

“It is not a common union,” Len-Ahl said, “though it can happen. In the days of antiquity, humans and faeries used to live in harmony. But the humans began to move away from nature, and construct walls of wood and stone. They drew into themselves and lost abilities they once had, such as communion with all living things. As the eons drifted by, they found they could no longer sense the faery realm, and the Xenea became as myth and story to them. Even with my help, Nerris, you still deny what you saw. I struggle with my human side as well, at certain times.”

“And your music?” Nerris asked. “How did it stop those cultists?”

Len-Ahl sighed. “If only I were stronger. I thought I would be able to stop Congir, but the cult is stronger in Faerlin than even I suspected. I fear all I was able to do was delay them. No doubt those poor priests will still be sacrificed in the name of the Destroyer, if they haven’t already. Music comes from a place of purity in the soul, Nerris. To give oneself over to Eversor is to lose that purity. If you know how to play the right notes, music can be anathema to them.”

Nerris remembered the glade in Yahd’s Walk, how he had heard the music on the air, helping to drive the cultists away. “Faery music?”

Len-Ahl chuckled. “Where do you think music came from? It is the original spoken language of the faeries.”

“And the Exemplus? What do you know about it?”

“My mother once told me a little knowledge is a dangerous thing,” Len-Ahl said, “and a lot of knowledge can mean disaster. I was never informed of the Exemplus’s nature; only that it is the most powerful stone in creation, and I must find it before it can be rejoined with the corruption. When we understand the scrolls of Angelica, I feel we may begin to understand why we were brought together to do this.”

“The corruption?”

“You know of what I speak.”

Of course. The Doom Rock. Qabala must have known about the Exemplus this entire time, and she wanted to come east to look for it. The two stones must be counterparts, and Qabala wanted to wield them both, dual godstones with untold power. Nerris had seen a glimpse of the power one gave to Qabala. He shuddered to think what it would mean for her to wield two.

“Do you have anything you would like to say?” Len-Ahl asked.

“No. Nothing.” Nerris slumped against the gunwale. Even after all that had happened, he could not flippantly betray Qabala’s secrets. She had made him feel again, and given him something to live for. He owed her better than that.

Len-Ahl intertwined her arm with his. “You put up such walls, much higher than those of any castle. One day I will stand atop them, however.”

Nerris laughed. “You’re saying you want to straddle my parapet?”

Len-Ahl gave his arm a light slap. “I did not mean it like that!” She laughed. “Whenever you speak to me, it is like smoke rising from a chimney. I know one day I will get inside those walls and experience the warmth of the fire within. And that will be a joyous day indeed.”

Nerris remained silent for a time. “You may be in for a long wait,” he finally said.

“I do not mind,” Len-Ahl whispered. “It is our fate.”

“Can’t say I believe in fate,” Nerris said. “Not for a long time.”

“Why?”

“I loved someone once,” he said. “She wasn’t much taller than you, and she had the same... vibrancy, I suppose you would call it. A spirit which shone brighter than a hundred suns. And she brought out that spirit in me as well. When we were together, it was clear to me we would spend the rest of our lives with each other.”

“Yet here you stand.”

“Here I stand,” Nerris agreed, a lump forming in his throat. Just thinking about Ketsuya did that to him. “Len-Ahl, I swear that whatever task you have, I will protect you from those who would do you harm. Until the end. But don’t ask for my love. That road leads to ruin.”

Len-Ahl considered him. “You know what I think? I think you are the one in need of protection.”

Nerris laughed. “Me?”

“You are formidable, no doubt,” she said. “Thrillseeker and all that. But maybe you should think of me as that extra bit of protection, something on top of your sword, armor, and those inner walls of yours. Think of me as someone to guide you when you are lost, or cannot think. Look to me at those times, Nerris, and I will see you through all the ruin.” She gave his arm one last squeeze and released him. “I think it is time I turned in for the night. Where does one sleep on a vessel such as this?”

“Jorga set up private quarters for you, being the only female on board,” Nerris said. “Go below deck, hang a right at the corridor, and don’t look in on Dist or Jhareth. They’re drinking with Jorga’s men. Unless you’d like a few drunken pinches. Keep in mind we’re on this scow with sailors, not saints.”

Len-Ahl giggled. “Thank you for the advice.”

As she disappeared below deck, Nerris turned back to the sea. In the distance there were many splashes upon the surface of the water, but Nerris could not make out their source. Was it some kind of fish, as he suspected, or something else? All he could do was watch.

Nerris didn’t see much of Len-Ahl, or anyone, over the next two days. While rounding the tip of the Arm, Jorga’s helmsman scraped against some shallows, sending a shudder throughout the whole ship. Nerris spent the rest of his time on the Sea Tart puking his guts over the gunwale, and no one wanted to come near him.

Hours before they were scheduled to make port in Orrigo, Dist and Jorga approached him. Jorga thrust a tankard of ale at him. “Peace offering?”

Nerris took the tankard and quaffed it straight. “You had to put a drunk man on the helm, didn’t you?”

“It was his turn,” Jorga said. “I may have underestimated how drunk he was, but we made it out all right. If it makes you feel better, I’ll have that helmsman scrub the barnacles from the hull when we reach port. He’ll think twice about drinking next time his turn comes up.”