Golden Age (The Shifting Tides Book 1) (2 page)

2

A strange mist cleared, revealing a man standing on the terrace a dozen paces away, where before the paved space had been empty. He wore trousers and a short tunic of soft deerskin over a frame that was tall and whipcord lean, with skin so pale it was nearly translucent. A narrow face displayed thinly arched eyebrows, a sharp chin, and a crescent-shaped scar on his left cheek. His eyes appeared dark in the low light, but Chloe knew they were brown flecked with gold, and that looking into their depths made her feel like a young child beside something ancient. Like all of his kind, he had silver hair, worn in his case to his shoulders.

‘Zachary,’ Chloe whispered.

The eldran must have left his home soon after the first thunder to have arrived so quickly.

‘Chloe,’ Zachary said with gravity. ‘I came to see if your father needs me.’

‘Please . . . Sophia is trapped. You must help.’

‘Show me.’

Chloe grabbed his arm and rushed into the villa’s interior once more, dragging him through the intact reception and leading him to the area where the roof had fallen in. When she reached the debris at the doorway to her sister’s chamber she stopped.

‘Sophia?’ she called. ‘Zachary is here! He’s going to help!’

Barefooted, Zachary stepped lightly over the rubble and Chloe heard him speak with Sophia in low, soothing tones. He turned back to her.

‘You can help her, can’t you?’ Chloe wrung her hands.

The eldran nodded. ‘I can. But you know I will have to change.’ He glanced up at the open sky where the ceiling once was and then turned to Chloe. ‘You should go.’

Chloe drew in a deep breath before she finally nodded and retreated to the reception room. She clenched and unclenched her fists as she waited, her gaze fixed firmly on the hallway. The beam would have been heavy for four men to lift. She had to trust in him.

She could now only listen and imagine. Gray smoke suddenly poured out of the corridor. Zachary groaned, and as he did his voice became deeper. The groan became a rumble and then a gasping roar. Chloe heard moving blocks of stone and wished she could help, but knew she would only get in the way.

Still unable to help herself, as the mist cleared she moved forward to peek into the stone-walled passage. She caught a glimpse of a head, ugly and monstrous, with ears the size of soup bowls and a crescent scar on its left cheek. She saw muscled arms like tree trunks carrying a big stone as if it weighed nothing at all and tossing it to the side. Then the head ducked down once more and she heard more moving rubble.

Wishing she could enter further and see what was happening but knowing she should wait, Chloe tried to envision each sound. She fought her panic as she wondered if Sophia was badly injured.

There was silence for a time and she held her breath as she waited. She started to walk forward, scanning the corridor, peering through the dust. Her chest rose and fell as she approached the crumbled section and the doorway to Sophia’s bedchamber.

Then Zachary appeared.

He had returned to his normal form, and he held Sophia in his arms. His eyes were wild and he was panting. When Chloe saw that her sister was awake and alert, bed linen wrapped around her body, she fought a sob of relief.

‘Outside,’ Chloe said. ‘To the terrace. It’s too dangerous in here.’

Soon they were in the fresh open air and Zachary was laying Sophia down on the stone, standing back while Chloe checked her sister, astounded to find she’d escaped with just cuts and grazes. Even so, Chloe had been instructed at the Temple of Aeris in the mysteries of healing. She wasn’t satisfied until she’d checked every joint and her sister had recited the bedtime prayer three times.

‘I must go and see if I can be of use elsewhere in the city,’ Zachary suddenly spoke.

Chloe glanced up at him. ‘What of your people?’

‘It is your buildings of stone that are a danger, and we have none.’

‘Zachary . . . If you must change again, do not forget who you are.’

Zachary nodded. He shook his head from side to side as clarity returned to his unfocused eyes.

‘And thank you,’ Chloe said.

Without a reply, Zachary left the terrace, darting down the steps.

Chloe fetched her bag of healing supplies and led her sister to the agora where she would be safe with the servants. She then rushed away to lend aid to anyone who needed her skills.

The rest of the night passed in a blur.

Much of the damage to the city followed the same pattern: dislodged tiles and collapsed roof beams with the occasional toppled wall. Everywhere she heard cries. Heading into the densely packed lower section of the city, Chloe set broken limbs, administered soma, and sewed gashes closed with needle and gut. She encountered too many cases where there was nothing she could do and left behind wailing wives and stunned children.

As she ran from house to house she saw eldren lending their unique abilities to help. A female giant worked tirelessly to clear the ruins of a broken house while a small boy watched from just a few paces away, too concerned for his family to be afraid of the monstrous silver-haired woman. Several times Chloe glanced up, hearing the sound of wings as furies wheeled overhead, scanning the city as the seven-foot-tall
winged men searched the city for anyone needing assistance. Twice she
even saw gray-scaled dragons, lithe creatures with wings the size of sails and muscles rippling under glossy silver scales. Her breath caught as one with a crescent scar on the side of its wedge-shaped head swooped close overhead; it could only be Zachary.

The great tremor was not followed by another but the consequences were plain to see. She passed a row of five bodies near the remains of two houses and blanched, muttering a swift prayer to Aldus, the god of justice, to grant them entrance to heaven.

Eventually Chloe was completely out of supplies and she realized it was now light enough to see. The sun climbed the mountains behind Phalesia to reveal a city that had been shaken but still stood. The night had passed. The worst was over.

Heading back to the upper city and climbing steps that felt as if they would never end, Chloe felt exhaustion in every limb.

But then as she approached the city’s central square and its rim of civic buildings she heard a new chorus of cries, unmistakably shouts of fear.

People with wide eyes and pale faces ran back the opposite way, calling for soldiers as they passed. Hoplites with shield and spear sprinted in the direction of the agora.

Chloe started to run.

She skirted the Temple of Charys and reached the agora, an
expansive square with paving stones in alternating shades of rose and brown. Wooden market stalls clustered near one side, while the tiered steps on the left-hand side had been turned into a makeshift infirmary.

A giant, fifteen feet tall, with silver hair and a crescent scar on his left cheek stood hunched in the center of the agora. Thick skin of tan-colored hide covered a frame of powerful musculature. His chest heaved and his brown eyes lacked the spark of intelligence, instead darting from side to side. Every part of his stance communicated the impression of a cornered animal.

As the soldiers of the city’s guard arrived they moved to encircle the giant. The hoplites stood shoulder to shoulder, shield to shield, spears pointed at the heaving creature. Each man carried a sheathed sword at his side, ready to be drawn if his spear became unwieldy or was lost.

Chloe knew that eldren hated the sight of steel; the very presence of metal brought them pain. The giant roared at the prickly wall of iron-tipped spears.

As Chloe pushed her way forward she saw a man in leather armor and a blue cloak rush forward to stop her. Amos, the veteran captain of the city guard, cursed as she moved too quickly for him to catch her.

‘Chloe!’ Amos called.

‘Call your men back,’ Chloe said. ‘How many did he save this last night? And you come at him with spears.’

Soon she was approaching the eldran, her hands spread in front of her as she spoke in a soothing voice. Zachary had been changing too much, shifting between the shape of dragon and giant depending on how he was needed. She prayed she wasn’t too late for him to return to himself.

‘Your name is Zachary. You are an eldran. This is just a temporary form, not your true shape. You live in the Wilds. Your wife is Aella.’

Chloe came closer still until she was within the reach of the giant’s long arms. Despite the danger, she continued to speak softly, constantly reminding Zachary who he was. As she looked on, the wildness in his eyes began to clear.

Finally, gray smoke surrounded him. The cloud thickened and grew until the giant was completely enveloped by the mist. The vapor shimmered, wavering and flickering, like a mirage in the desert.

Then the mist cleared.

Once more Zachary was a tall, slim, pale-skinned man in deerskin. He straightened and put his hand to his forehead as he weaved on his feet.

‘Chloe . . .’ Zachary said. He shook his head slightly, fighting the wildness in his unfocused brown eyes. ‘Did I . . . Did I hurt anyone?’

Chloe glanced at Amos.

‘No.’ Amos shook his head, speaking to Chloe rather than Zachary. ‘He saved many. The rest of his people have left. No one was hurt.’

Zachary slumped and closed his eyes, before reopening them. The darting glance of an animal had left them completely. ‘For that I am glad. I changed for too long.’

‘Look,’ a man said, pointing.

Chloe lifted her gaze. She frowned, then gasped. The eternal flame at the Temple of Aldus was extinguished. The flame always burned brightly through even the strongest storm, and despite the night’s terror there had been no strong wind, with the thunder heralding a quake rather than a storm. Yet it had expired.

‘It is an omen,’ someone in the crowd muttered.

‘We are being punished.’

‘It is a warning.’

‘Both the ark and the temple are safe,’ Zachary said. ‘That is what is important.’

Chloe saw more than one citizen glare at the eldran. Others regarded him with expressions of terror.

‘And so is the city,’ she said. Her voice rose as she spoke. ‘Zachary saved my sister’s life and worked tirelessly throughout the night to help our people. He did so for no motive other than the generosity of his spirit.’

‘Thank you,’ Zachary said. ‘But now I must go. I cannot change again, so I must walk.’

Zachary stumbled out of the agora, heading for the lower city and the gates. The people made way, gazing at him fearfully, never taking their eyes away.

Chloe went to the nearby marble steps and sat down, exhausted. The lids of her eyes were heavy.

‘Chloe.’

She heard Amos’s voice, but didn’t look up.

‘Chloe!’

This time the voice was different.

Her eyes opened and she tilted her head to look up.

Aristocles, her father, First Consul of Phalesia, gazed down at her with concern. A skinny man with white hair balding at the top and perpetual lines of worry on his forehead, he still wore the elaborate silk tunic he’d worn when he left the previous night to attend the symposium. Chloe stood up to embrace him.

‘Father, you are safe.’

‘Sophia? The servants?’

‘The roof fell in at the back of the villa. Sophia was trapped but Zachary saved her.’

‘She is unharmed?’

‘Scared, but well enough. Will you see her?’

‘There is nothing I would rather do, but I first must set the city to rights. Will you take care of her?’

‘Of course.’

Aristocles looked up at the Temple of Aldus and frowned at the absence of the flame. ‘This is a dark day,’ he said ominously. ‘A dark day for Phalesia indeed.’

3

Chloe leaned on the terrace guard rail and gazed out to sea. Waves rolled in one after another and she followed them with her eyes as the curling water broke on the rocky beach. Her eyes then traveled upwards, and above the shore, on top of the cliff, at the bay’s closest end, she could just make out the flicker of the eternal flame at the Temple of Aldus, once more burning brightly. The golden ark below the torch’s pedestal glittered in the sunshine.

The agora below buzzed with activity as citizens shopped and vendors hawked their wares. The workers had departed the villa earlier in the day, their repairs finally complete. The overseer had given Chloe his assurance that the work his team had done would survive the strongest tremor; even so, Sophia now shared Chloe’s quarters; her own bedchamber gave her nightmares.

Chloe turned and saw Sophia limping toward her, although her younger sister couldn’t seem to make her mind up whether to hobble her left or right leg. The servants and their father had been pouring attention on her, giving her sweets and checking on her several times a day. Sophia was enjoying their sudden indulgence.

‘My bruises hurt,’ she said as she approached.

‘Which one is the worst?’ Chloe asked.

Sophia lifted her chiton and pointed to a faint mark on her shin.

‘No, I think it must be this one,’ Chloe said, touching her sister’s nose.

Sophia scowled. ‘There’s no bruise there.’

‘Well then, why is it blue?’

‘My nose is not blue.’

‘It certainly is,’ Chloe said gravely. ‘As blue as your eyes.’

‘It is not!’ Sophia said with indignation.

‘You had best look in the silver mirror and see for yourself.’

Chloe watched carefully as Sophia stalked inside and noted with satisfaction that this time her sister had forgotten to limp.

Sophia returned a moment later. ‘I told you my nose is not blue.’

‘I know,’ Chloe said, pulling her younger sibling into a tight hug. ‘I am glad you are well.’

Sophia squirmed but then turned serious when Chloe released her. ‘Chloe . . . Why are the gods angry? Is it because of the eldren? What will happen to Zachary?’

Chloe frowned. ‘What are you talking about? Where did you hear that?’

‘I was with father at the agora and one of the consuls spoke to him, the fat one. He said that the gods are angry because we have allowed the eldren to live so close to our borders. He said they should all have been destroyed long ago.’

‘Destroyed?’ Chloe’s eyes narrowed.

She knew the Assembly of Consuls was meeting at that very moment.

Turning away from her sister she gazed down at the lyceum, a long rectangular building of glistening white marble columns with a peaked stone roof.

‘Don’t worry. I’m sure Zachary will be safe.’ Making a decision, Chloe lifted her chin. ‘I have to go now.’

‘Where are you going?’ Sophia asked.

‘To the lyceum.’

‘But it’s only for men—’

‘All they do is talk,’ Chloe said. ‘Surely they’ve all seen a woman do that.’

Chloe changed her plain white costume for her finest garment, a chiton of pale blue silk that flowed like water. She fastened it with three copper pins in the shape of dolphins and put wooden sandals on her feet, then swiftly departed the villa. Her sandals slapped on the stone steps as she walked down the winding staircase, inhaling the scent of the flowering plants that grew on both sides, until she reached the bottom and made her way to the agora, now passing through streets filled with the stench of refuse.

Since the tremor a week ago, the city of Phalesia had nearly returned to its former self. As Chloe’s father said, it could have been much worse, and almost all of the damage was confined to houses, while the city’s defenses and harbor remained intact. The swift actions of the men who had laboriously hauled the boats of the fishermen and merchants up to high ground had saved nearly the entire fleet, with only a few war galleys caught in the surging tide in need of repairs.

Reaching the bustling agora, filled with folk dressed in a multitude of styles and colors, Chloe weaved through the throng, crossing to the far side to climb the marble steps that led to the lyceum. As befit a place where laws were made and trials conducted, a stern bronze statue of Aldus, the god of justice, stood tall and imposing outside. The god wore a long robe and carried two tablets in his arms. He appeared to be looking at the writing on the tablets but they were arranged so that only he could read what was inscribed.

The lyceum was the largest structure in Phalesia. A long building with an entrance in the shape of a horseshoe, it had no walls and essentially consisted of row after row of columns holding up the high triangular roof. In the center was a rectangular gallery, sunken into the floor in a series of tiers. The consuls sat on the lowest tier and the city’s citizens seated themselves on the tiers above. Only one man was allowed to speak at a time from the central floor. No women were allowed to participate.

This was the first proper Assembly since the week-old wrath of the gods, and there were men on every level of the gallery, all facing the consul who was speaking, so that Chloe was able to reach the back of the crowd without anyone noticing her.

The crisp voice of round-faced Consul Nilus filled the air. As she stood on her toes to look, Chloe saw him turning at regular intervals to address all present.

‘That the gods are angry there is no doubt,’ he said in a voice designed to fill the lyceum. ‘We must make offerings to all. Perhaps it is time to visit the Oracle at Athos, for we need to shed light on what we have done to bring such wrath down upon our city.’

Another consul, a heavyset old man with a gray beard, stood and waited impatiently to speak. Chloe recognized him as Consul Harod; her father said he was a troublemaker.

‘I yield the floor to Consul Harod,’ said Nilus, nodding at his colleague.

Harod moved to the middle of the floor, while Nilus seated himself on the lowest tier, gathering the folds of his white tunic in his lap.

‘Offerings are not enough,’ Harod’s voice boomed. ‘The gods have shown their displeasure. We cannot simply appease them. We must do more.’

A chorus of assent greeted his words. Chloe frowned. She had an idea what was coming next.

‘The cause is clear,’ Harod said, his full beard wagging as he nodded sagely, eyes roving over the gathered assemblage. ‘The gods are angry because we have allowed eldren into our city.’

This time the voices of agreement were forceful. Harod waved for calm before he continued.

‘This peace we have established with the strange ones is not a good thing. They turn wild when they change, forgetting who they are, becoming monsters that destroy our villages and eat our livestock. We have finally cleared the last of the serpents, dragons, and giants from the area. The last thing we need is more. Everyone knows what happened in the agora.’

Before Chloe knew what she was doing, she was moving. She pushed forward through the throng of men, resolutely heading down the steps. Ignoring their stares, she didn’t stop until she reached the floor.

She saw her father, Aristocles, seated near Nilus, so astonished his eyebrows looked as if they were trying to climb to the top of his head. The gray-bearded Harod was stunned enough to forget what he was saying. Consul Nilus had his mouth wide open.

Crossing to the center of the speaking floor, Chloe pointed at Harod and she spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. ‘They only change if they must, and in this case they were changing to help us.’

‘Clear the floor!’ shouted a tall man on the third tier.

‘Get her out!’

‘Only when I’ve said what must be said,’ Chloe called, turning narrowed eyes on the tall man who’d called out. He folded his arms over his chest and scowled.

Standing in the middle of the sunken floor Chloe spoke for all to hear and gazed out over the consuls around her. ‘Zachary
saved
my sister’s life. No number of men could have freed her without harming her, but Zachary did, and right now she is alive and well.’

She glared at gray-bearded Harod, who appeared unable to speak.

‘The eldren saved countless more of our people,’ she continued. ‘Zachary knew the risk of turning wild, but he pushed himself to his limit, for us, and no one was harmed.’ Chloe drew in a deep breath. ‘I don’t know if what happened was a punishment or an omen, but I do know one thing.’ She spoke clearly with as much volume as she could now. ‘It had nothing to do with the eldren.’

Chloe scanned the crowd. She didn’t know if her words had had their desired effect. The citizenry appeared more stunned than anything, particularly the consuls, watching her in wide-eyed silence. Even Harod shuffled back to his seat on the gallery’s lowest tier and sat down heavily. The consul next to him raised an eyebrow and Harod threw up his hands.

No one wanted to be the man to confront the first consul’s daughter.

But then Chloe’s father slowly stood, raising his thin frame and walking to the center of the floor. ‘Please, daughter,’ Aristocles murmured, speaking for her ears alone. ‘There is a way these things are done. I must take no sides and then argue the course of reason. Letting me speak is the way to get the outcome you desire. A leader hears the opinions and then has the final word.’ He raised his voice: ‘Daughter, may I have the floor?’

Chloe nodded and her father smiled softly, indicating that she move to the side with his eyes. She left the floor’s center but didn’t sit with the other consuls, instead standing near the steps, her arms folded over her chest.

Aristocles looked down at the floor as if pensive, before raising his gaze to cast his eyes over the crowd. He somehow managed to look at everyone, even Chloe.

‘We have heard impassioned arguments today. As your elected first consul I wished to hear the many opinions before revealing some new information that sheds light on our situation . . . and before imparting my own thoughts for your consideration.’

The mention of new information made many of the consuls frown. Consul Harod tugged his beard thoughtfully. Chloe had always known her father to be a gifted speaker, but she’d never been able to see him address the Assembly at the lyceum. With just a few words he had seized control of the dialog, while making his potential opponents curious rather than combative.

Aristocles let the silence hang for a time. It was difficult to have conflict in a room full of silence. He gave the impression of a thoughtful man who had pondered at length and was now prepared to share his wisdom with his peers.

‘I have visited with the priests and magi from all the temples,’ Aristocles said. ‘All concur. We are not being punished by the gods, we are being warned. The thunder with no clouds and the tremor in deepest night, followed by the extinguishing of the eternal flame at the Temple of Aldus . . . this is no punishment but an omen. We are being warned of terrible danger.’

Chloe saw that every citizen’s eyes were now on her father; every consul leaned forward, eager to hear his words. Aristocles felt the same way Chloe did about the eldren, but he hadn’t needed to mention them once in order to bury the notion that the gods were somehow angry that he had shown a hand of friendship to their race. Instead of confronting Harod’s emotional rhetoric directly, Aristocles had given them what they wanted: an answer.

‘Phalesia is in danger,’ Aristocles repeated with the utmost gravity, tilting his head back to include even the men on the highest tiers. ‘This is a warning we must take seriously. You now ask yourselves: From where will the danger come?’

A sudden commotion interrupted the first consul’s next words. On the high steps the crowd stirred, jostled by a newcomer. A bare-chested sailor in coarse trousers pushed through the crowd, clambering down the steps to get past those he shoved aside in his haste. The sailor was panting and had evidently run directly to the lyceum as fast as he was able.

‘First Consul!’ the sailor wheezed, reaching the bottom of the steps and placing his hands on his hips as he fought to regain his breath. ‘I come from the harbor. We’ve been on patrol.’ He drew in a deep breath. ‘There’s a ship!’