The Path of the Storm (3 page)

"Amber… I…"

"Tomas!" Amber screamed. She put her hands to her face in horror. "Get down from there!"

Miro turned, and saw a tall rock poking its head from a grove of trees. The rock leaned out over the water.

Tomas stood on the summit of the rock, waving a hand at them, completely unaware of the danger. If he took another step, and fell into the river, he would drown.

Even as he was moving, Miro cursed himself for becoming so distracted he'd jeopardised his son's safety. His muscles freed by action, he ran at the grove and ignored the cuts to his arms as he pushed through the trees, losing sight of Tomas as he thrust his way through the grove, desperately looking for the rock. He finally saw the grey of stone through the branches, and leapt forward. Miro stopped in his tracks.

A small woman with ruddy features sat just below the summit of the rock, the child in her arms. She wore the garb of a Dunfolk healer, with a soft mantle of precious fur on her shoulders. Tomas was giggling as she tickled him. Neither of them seemed troubled in the slightest by their precarious position.

"What are you doing here?" Miro demanded. "Did you follow us?"

"I came to watch," Layla said. "Have you asked her yet?"

"Layla," Miro said, shuffling and clambering up the rock to sit beside the Dunfolk healer as the water roared below. "This is a private moment between Amber and I…"

"Oh, I see." Layla pretended to ponder. "Should I have let him fall, then?"

"No, no, I'm sorry. Thank you. I'm just nervous."

"You've fallen over twice. I've been watching. You're clumsy today," Layla said.

"Thanks," Miro said wryly. "Can you at least stay out of sight?"

Layla snorted. "You couldn't find me if I was right in front of you. I will stay out of sight, but I'm going to keep an eye on your son. You're fortunate the Eternal brought me here."

Calmly and confidently, Layla took Tomas from the peak down to the base of the rock. As Layla looked up expectantly, Miro stood, wobbling as his feet sought purchase on the jagged surface, suddenly terribly aware of the drop.

As the reflexes that had seen Miro survive countless battles deserted him, Miro slipped, tripping backwards.

Miro's last sight was Layla regarding him with an expression of astonishment as he fell. He tumbled through the air, hitting the water on his back with a mighty splash.

The fall took the breath out of his lungs, and he coughed and gulped at the water as he went under. Miro's head popped above the surface and he grabbed a hasty breath before the plunging waves pulled him back down. He felt the water filling his boots and soaking his clothes, adding to the weight that threatened to drag him to the bottom.

The next time his head came up, he pulled at the water with his arms. Miro kicked out with his legs; fortunately he was close to shore, and his foot found purchase on a rock below the surface. He thrust with his foot while simultaneously paddling with his arms. The current almost took him, but both feet found purchase and then he felt a hand take his wrist as he was pulled out of the water.

Finally, Miro flopped onto the bank, thanking Amber with his eyes as she let go of him. Rolling and coughing, he finally spluttered river water onto the ground. He pulled himself up further onto the bank, heedless of the mud, and lay dazed.

"Miro! What happened? Are you all right?"

Amber held Tomas by the hand, Miro was pleased to see. Miro raised his head and shook it from side to side to clear it.

"I'm… fine…" Miro said.

A sudden stab of fear hit him, and his eyes went wide. Miro clutched at his trouser pocket, his hand grasping empty cloth. He began to search the muddy bank, his hands grasping at one handful of silt after another.

"Miro, what are you doing?"

When his hand clutched onto a smooth circle of metal, Miro thanked whatever deity was looking out for him that the ring had fallen out only at the end. He washed it off in the water; he might be covered in mud, but at least it would be clean.

"Lord of the Sky," Miro muttered, "nothing ever goes to plan."

As both Amber and Tomas looked on in astonishment, Miro stood shakily and faced them both. Covered in mud and with chest heaving, he turned to Amber, and sank to one knee.

Miro held out his hand. The ring was of bright yellow gold, with an emerald stone in the shape of a droplet, banded by tiny diamonds.

Amber's mouth dropped open. Miro's hand shook.

"Amber, I tried to make this day perfect, but I know I'm covered in mud, and I know Tomas almost fell into the river. I know I'm not perfect, but you've made me incredibly happy, and I want to give you more." Miro took a deep breath. "This ring was Lady Katherine's… I didn't know her, but she was my mother. It's not the ring she married Tessolar with — it's the ring she wore when she married my father, High Lord Serosa. I'm sorry. I know it's not about the ring. What I'm trying to say is… You and Tomas…"

Amber put her fingers to Miro's lips. "Shh," she said, her lips curved in a smile. "Yes."

Miro looked up. "Yes?" He grinned.

Amber laughed. "Of course, yes, you crazy man. I'll marry you. Mud and all."

Miro slid the ring onto Amber's finger, and then stood. Still grinning like a fool, he kissed her, long and slowly, before breaking away when he felt moisture on her cheeks. Drawing back he saw more tears spilling from Amber's eyes, but she was laughing and crying, all at the same time.

Miro squatted down and hugged Tomas while the boy squirmed. He stood again and held them both for a long moment, realising the day was perfect after all.

Miro looked past Amber's shoulder and between some branches he saw white teeth and sparkling eyes and there was Layla, for once smiling broadly.

Thinking about the mud on his clothes, Miro thought about Tomas on the rock, and realised how little the mud mattered.

Miro reminded himself to thank Layla.

He was glad she came.

2

I
T WAS
situated high in the mountains, in the very centre of the Empire. It was encircled by the Ring Forts, the five fortresses that had never been taken by force, only by treachery. Grand, yet small, the town of Mornhaven's unique geography was only exceeded by its place in history.

Long ago, the Western Rebellion had ended here, when Tessolar's betrayal of Serosa, the Alturan High Lord, ensured the surrender of Altura and Halaran to the Emperor. The crushing Treaty of Mornhaven the Emperor enforced on the two rebel houses resulted in peace — but only for a time.

Twenty years later, it was at Mornhaven that Miro, Serosa's son, confronted Tessolar, revealing Tessolar's treachery to the world. At Mornhaven Miro was made Lord Marshal, rallying the last free men to his cause.

Now, over two years after the death of Primate Melovar Aspen, Mornhaven had a new place in history. The town no longer flew the flag of Halaran, nor did the five Ring Forts: Manrith, Penton, Ramrar, Charing and Sark. High Lord Tiesto of Halaran had gifted this part of his domain not to one nation, but to the Empire as a whole. Soldiers of all nations travelled daily on the winding mountain roads, and a strict rotation system ensured the different houses occupied the Ring Forts evenly.

It was here, at Mornhaven, that the strange man known as Evrin Evenstar was building the new machines.

The common soldiers didn't actually know where the work was being done, but those who had been at Mornhaven and the Ring Forts the longest tended to look nervously down at the ground. There were catacombs deep beneath the mountains, connecting the town with its protective circle of fortresses, and the rumours said the tunnels stretched for miles, with some caverns so huge they contained actual lakes. Only a few knew if the rumours were true: that a new harvesting plant, extraction system, and refinery were being built down there. But occasionally a rumble could be felt, and there wasn't a man who didn't believe lore was the cause. Many a brave soldier walked gingerly, half-expecting the earth to erupt beneath his feet.

Ella herself was uncomfortable, but in her case it was with the sensation of weighty rock resting above her head. She walked through a glowing archway, reading the runes she had inscribed herself, lore that would provide light and help to regulate the environment of the chamber beyond.

Ahead Ella was confronted by a bright device that sparked and blinked on and off intermittently. Ella put her satchel down at the foot of the archway and watched Evrin work.

Evrin was manipulating a pointed cylinder, but rather than touching it, he was singing to it softly, his eyes watching intently. The cylinder stood on an arm of blue metal, and a thin beam of light shone from the cylinder onto a great crystal that buzzed and hummed, and was seemingly suspended in the air. Light also shone from the jewel's glittering facets, and Ella knew it was supposed to focus onto a point underneath. Instead, the light was a wan shade of pink, diffuse and lacking power.

"Need the scratched energy tables," Evrin muttered.

Ella walked over to a workbench at the side of the chamber and searched through the books stacked haphazardly until she found what she was looking for. She walked over to where Evrin glared at the cylinder.

"Here," she said, opening the book at the right page.

"Ah." Evrin's eyes lit up. "You're back, my dear. I could use your help with this. Two years and we're almost there, but I always knew the problem would be with the scratched refinery and here we are."

"What can I do?" Ella said.

She worked with Evrin for over two hours, only rarely understanding the things he directed her to do, yet, as always, learning all the time. She felt herself losing track of time, a frequent occurrence when working down in the catacombs, and it was Evrin who finally noticed the satchel resting on the ground at the foot of the archway.

"Oh." He looked abashed. "Is it Lordsday already? Why didn't you say something?"

"I wanted to help," Ella said. She smiled. "It's fine. I'll still make it in time."

"Well." Evrin harrumphed. "So you're off then."

"Are you sure you won't come to the wedding?"

"Too much to do here," Evrin said. "Tell me what the food is like, though, won't you? Do you think they'll match wines? There are some lovely wines in Altura's south…"

Ella laughed. "Just come. We'd all be happy to have you. You can't work all the time."

"No," Evrin said, uncharacteristically abrupt, and as he turned away Ella saw through his façade as she only had a few times before. "Weddings aren't my thing."

Ella's face fell as she remembered Evrin's story. To her it was centuries ago, but to him the loss of the woman he loved was still raw.

"I'm sorry," she said. "At least you had someone special. Not many people can say that. Perhaps one day you'll find another." She hoped it was the right thing to say. Ella wished she had Miro's way with words.

"For me there isn't anyone else, Ella. I betrayed my brothers for her. Yet it was she who showed me it was right." He brightened, though Ella knew it was false. "Have a wonderful time, my dear, and don't mind me. Please give your brother and his new wife my best." He reached over to touch Ella's shoulder, a rare gesture of affection. "You've been a great help, Ella. I wish I had time to teach you more, but this must take priority. The world needs essence." He turned back to the apparatus in front of him. "You'd best be going now."

~

E
LLA
took one last look at the distant peaks of the Ring Forts before turning her back, away from Mornhaven, and away from her work for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.

It was strange — here she was, working with someone whose knowledge was so far beyond her own it scared her, yet she still wasn't learning what she wanted to learn. She knew the most important task at hand was to build the machines, and she would give everything she could to that goal, but the desire had never left her to bridge the different schools of lore. Ella had started down the path: she had made Miro armoursilk that could project an illusion, and devised an enchantment that used Petrya's lore to turn the boiling water of Lake Halapusa to ice. What else could be done? Would she ever have the opportunity to find out?

"Stop working," Ella said to herself, smiling.

She deliberately turned her thoughts to the journey she had ahead of her. Ella hadn't told Evrin she was making the journey from Mornhaven to Sarostar alone, and the preoccupied old man hadn't thought to ask, but she was pleased she'd made the decision. She felt excited and free to be travelling, and she knew that her solitude would soon come to an end when she saw all of her friends at the wedding.

Spring was in full force, with summer just around the corner. The sun was warm on Ella's back, and the smell of new growth filled the air. As she descended down the winding road, leaving the mountains for Halaran's fertile lowlands, Ella passed through small farming villages, feeling comforted by the signs of normal life. On a field to her right a group of men were walking down a row of vines, trimming the loose leaves and calling out to one another. She followed an arched stone bridge over a bubbling river and stopped for a moment to watch a water-powered mill grinding grain into flour. The water sluiced through the great paddles, splashing and sloshing ceaselessly.

Ella spent her first two nights at village inns, surprised at the way the proprietors fawned over her and gratefully took her gilden. She wore travelling clothes rather than her enchantress's dress, but she realised that to these people she was a wealthy guest, with a well-cut brown dress of thick wool, clean skin and delicate hands. The food was good: hearty country stews seasoned to a dark red colour and served with plump dumplings. Each time Ella made sure to stay in their most expensive room, and earnestly thanked each innkeeper as she left.

As Ella's journey took her closer to Altura and deeper into Halaran's heartland, traffic on the road increased and she kept a wary eye out for brigands. With more people around she saw more visible signs of poverty. Stomachs were shrunken and fields were left fallow, the working men listless. Gone were the ubiquitous drudges of Halaran's merchants, bringing goods from one end of the Empire to the other. It was sad to see the inns using candles rather than nightlamps, and the Halrana struggling with goods on their backs where once they would have sat proudly atop a drudge-pulled cart.