The Path of the Storm (49 page)

Jehral wrapped the yellow-covered Hazaran Lexicon in cloth, while Shani came forward and took the red-covered Petryan Lexicon. Bartolo was the last to take the Alturan Lexicon, and soon all three held their bundles possessively.

"We did it?" Shani asked, looking askance at Killian.

"We did. Lord of the Sky, I never want to go to that place again."

"I… I should thank you," Killian said. "Ella told me about all of you. Without your help I would still be there."

Ella saw Shani give Bartolo a meaningful look, and wondered how difficult things had been for the three of them.

"You owe Shani your thanks, more than any of us," Jehral said.

"You've got that right, desert man," said Shani.

"Come on," said Ella. "Let's go."

They climbed down the ladder and soon they stood once more on the pedestal of the Sentinel. Ella remembered the last time she'd stood in this place, and promised Evrin she would get Killian back.

Killian knew who his parents were now. The leadership of the Empire was his to claim. Ella looked at him, standing tall in his black garments, feeling a warm sensation inside.

"We arrived with a coffin, and we leave with one man extra," Shani said. "I'm looking forward to seeing the expression on that captain's face."

"You're wounded," Jehral said, seeing the claw marks on Ella's shoulder. "We need to get you back to Seranthia."

"Wait," Bartolo said, gripping Jehral's arm. "What's that?"

Three horn blasts came from the city, the sound carried across the water. There was a space, and then three more blasts. Shading her eyes, Ella saw smoke rising from several parts of Seranthia.

"It's the call to arms," Bartolo said. "Something's happening in Seranthia. Something big. We need to cross the harbour. Scratch it, that'll take too much time!"

Ella looked at Killian. He returned her look with a slight smile.

Chanting under his breath, Killian spread his arms out to his sides. As they looked on in awe, he rose into the air.

There was a famous scene from the Evermen Cycles, where one of the Evermen hovered in the air above a crowd of worshippers below.

Ella now knew they possessed this power.

"Can you make it?" she asked. "It's a long way across the harbour."

"I can try," Killian said. "I'm a Tingaran. These are my people."

He continued to chant, rising further into the air. His body tilted and he increased speed, and then he was over the water. Looking back at Ella, he waved his hand.

Then he was gone.

58

"
L
ORD
R
EGENT
," a Tingaran officer called, "the soldiers will soon be at Imperial Square."

With Lady Alise's refusal to help, Rogan decided to try one last time, though he knew it was hopeless; there was nothing he hadn't already said. He walked back out onto the balcony, feeling the wind crisp in his face, carrying up to him the shouts and cries of the heaving mob below.

The balcony was designed for Tingara's rulers to address those below, and Rogan didn't have to strain to make himself heard.

He looked out over the crowd, seeing craftsmen and farmers, builders and merchants. Rogan felt no anger at these people, only pity.

"People of Seranthia, once more I plead with you to calm yourselves. If you send forth representatives from your numbers I will hear your requests. If they are within my power to grant, I promise you I will grant them."

Rogan saw Bastian below, bellowing as he called out to the crowd. His words were carried up. "We don't have requests, do we? We have demands!"

"Then let me hear them!" Rogan cried

"Tell us your words were lies! Take back your denigration of the Evermen!"

"There are those of the Evermen who helped us all," Rogan said, "and still do. But they were no gods. I cannot tell you a lie."

The crowd roared in defiance.

Bastian shouted again. "Relinquish your clinging grip on power. Give us back our nation!"

"There is no wish closer to my heart. I promise you that within a month, a Tingaran will rule in my stead."

"That's not good enough!"

Rogan bowed his head. In conscience, he couldn't give them what they wanted. Better that he be known as a murderer for what happened this day, than the fragile Empire be broken.

Someone joined Rogan on the balcony. Turning, his eyes widened in surprise as he saw it was Lady Alise.

Rogan took a step back, allowing her to come forward.

"Seranthians, Tingarans, my people," she began. "The younger among you won't know my face, but your fathers and grandfathers will know me. My name is Alise, and Emperor Xenovere, the fifth of that name, was my brother."

Rogan saw the crowd still. Bastian's shouts died on his lips. This was news to them all.

"My brother was a cruel, vindictive man. I don't have to explain myself to you, as Tingarans and residents of Seranthia, you know my words are true."

Lady Alise licked her lips, before going on.

"Xenovere hanged my husband, Lord Aidan, for treason, for acting against his tyranny. I watched as he writhed and struggled on the rope, as his face turned purple, and the life left his eyes, telling me that my husband was dead. I tell you this so you know that I am no tyrant, as he was. The madness that inflicted him is not carried on in my blood."

"Where have you been?" someone screamed up. "When we've been dying, where have you been?"

"When I had my husband's child, I fled my brother's wrath. He sent his men after me, and I was captured. They took my child from me, and I was exiled to the Isle of Ana. I haven't set foot off that barren island in more than twenty years. If you have suffered, then let me tell you, so have I."

The crowd stirred uncertainly.

"Please, return to your homes, before this day becomes a day remembered for darkness. Don't let today be the day your sons and daughters are killed, and the Empire turned to chaos. I understand your anger, but together we will get better, day by day. My son was taken from me. Don't let your children be harmed because rage held sway. My son…" Lady Alise trailed off. "His name was Killian, and I don't know if he's alive or dead."

Rogan saw a strange shape, rising above the sea of people. As one, the heads in the crowd turned to follow.

A man in black garments held his arms stretched out at his sides as he rose into the air. He had hair the colour of fire.

The man continued to rise, until he was high over the surging mass of people.

The crowd looked on in awe.

Rogan's eyes went wide. He looked at Lady Alise. The blood had drained from her face.

Lady Alise turned to Rogan, and he spoke, unable to keep the tremor from his voice.

"Your son has the blood of the ancients in his veins," Rogan said. "He gets it from his father, Lord Aidan, and far back, from the Evermen. Believe me when I tell you. Your son is descended from Evrin Evenstar, the Lord of the Sky."

Lady Alise turned back to the crowd, watching open-mouthed as the young man continued to rise, drawing level with the balcony.

Rogan looked at Killian, and then at Lady Alise. The resemblance was indisputable. "Lady Alise, this is your son."

"Mother?" Killian said. "Is it really you?"

"People of Tingara!" Lady Alise cried. "I am Alise, and the mad Emperor Xenovere was my brother." She held out a trembling hand. "This is my son, Killian!"

In unison, the people below sank to their knees.

A chant began, welling up from the crowd, starting as a murmur and building volume until it became a roar.

Rogan tried to catch what they were saying. Was it "Emperor"? Then the voices built until it was unmistakeable, the roar rising from the great city Seranthia until it could be heard from all quarters.

"Everman!" the crowd roared. "Everman!"

"Everman!"

59

A
STIFF
wind blew from the west, driving the flotilla of vessels ever onwards. Deep blue ocean stretched out in all directions, an endless expanse of curling waves that made the idea of land seem a dream.

Leading the fleet, the warship
Seekrieger
lumbered over each crest before plunging into the trough behind it. After so many weeks at sea the men and women aboard were weary. Water and food were both being strictly rationed, while doubts grew among those aboard that their destination even existed.

A man with long black hair tied behind his head stood at the rail with a slim auburn-haired woman. Together they stared into the water, sharing a companionable silence, each thinking their own thoughts.

~

M
IRO
thought about the vibrant new world they'd discovered across the sea, only to see it ravaged beyond belief. He thought about the events that had brought them to that place.

Tomas's poisoning… Please, let him yet survive to be cured!

Ella's discovery in Toro Marossa's journal; she'd found the mention of islands; who could have known there was a continent out there?

The mutiny aboard the
Delphin
… Amber's discovery of the caravel, the terrible storm, and their subsequent capture by this very ship.

The dark times: the siege at Wengwai; the horrors perpetuated by Sentar Scythran.

The destruction of Emirald.

Miro had seen a land the size of the Tingaran Empire utterly destroyed within a matter of months. He couldn't let that happen to his homeland.

He thought about his conversations with Emir Volkan. He didn't agree with the way these people had turned their backs on lore, yet some of the discoveries they'd made without it were incredible.

The Veldrins could build bigger, more powerful ships than anyone in the Empire, including the Buchalanti. Their houses, mills, bridges and walls were conceived with a skill and ingenuity that required no builders' runes to withstand the mighty forces of volcanoes and cannon. The alchemists knew about chemicals and the workings of the human body. Black powder gave these people projectile weapons more powerful than any rail-bow.

When the revenants came, it would be with the power of black powder at their disposal. They would bring ships, and they would bring cannon.

Seranthia had its massive Wall. The Petryan capital, had walls around Tlaxor, the tiered city. Ralanast, the great Halrana city, was encircled by walls.

Sarostar, the city of the nine bridges, had no walls.

~

A
MBER
also thought about Tomas. He'd only been burned on the backs of his legs. He could now be recovered on his own; it was possible, wasn't it?

She had the book that the alchemist, Tungawa, had given her, but she still wished she had the cure itself. He had said to give it to the most gifted loremaster.

Amber knew who she would depend on to decipher the wordy descriptions, strange symbols, and formulae. She only hoped Ella would be in Altura when they arrived home.

She was sad the old alchemist had been killed, and in such a senseless manner: in a struggle over an ox-drawn cart. He'd risked his life to rescue her from torment and death, and then risked it again to save her husband.

Amber thought about the refugees of Veldria they carried on these mighty vessels. First she would see to Tomas, but afterwards there would be a great task ahead to find them new homes in Altura. Amber decided she would apply herself to that task. They would be afraid and confronted by strange people, confusing customs, and alien items of lore. They would know nothing of nightlamps and heatplates, timepieces and drudges. Things that Amber found commonplace would fill them with trepidation, but hopefully with wonder as well. How would they react to the Crystal Palace cycling through its evening colours? Would they shy away from stepping onto the Runebridge? Amber promised herself that she would help them adjust, and show them that lore could do more than kill.

"Miro," Amber suddenly broke the silence, "did I do the right thing by coming? Do you think I should have gone back to Altura, to be by Tomas's side?"

Miro was a long time in responding. "I don't know, Amber. Only you could make the decision to come. There's something I do know, however."

"What?"

"You put the device in the hold of the
Delphin
, saving us from certain death at the hands of Carver's men. You found the map on the volcanic islands that told us there was a great land to the west. You found the caravel that Toro Marossa left behind. You saved our lives when our voyage took us into the path of the storm. You found the Alchemists' Guild. You rescued me from Sentar Scythran. If you hadn't come, we wouldn't be here now."

~

A
WEEK
later, Miro and Amber again stood at the rail when the lookout cried out. "Ship ahoy!"

Sailors and refugees soon joined them at the rail as everyone fought to get a glimpse of the vessel.

"Could it be the enemy?" Amber asked Miro.

"I doubt it. I expect Sentar Scythran is salvaging whatever ships we didn't destroy and building new ones. He'll be searching other towns — I'm sure that wasn't the only harbour on the coast of Veldria. No, I doubt they would have made chase this quickly."

Miro's words were proved true when a streamlined vessel came into view, rakish and built for speed. The sails glowed with a multitude of colours, shimmering as runes were activated and deactivated by the man who controlled the ship.

Miro broke out in a broad smile. "It's the
Infinity
! What are they doing out here? We're still in the deep zone!"

The Buchalanti ship sped through the water, tilting dangerously close to the water as it tacked across the lumbering warship's beam. The
Seekrieger
dwarfed the
Infinity
, but there was something inordinately beautiful about the magical glowing ship.

Miro turned as a newcomer joined him and Amber at the rail.