The Bone Mask Trilogy: (An Epic Fantasy Boxed Set), page 35
“Is it really attacking the city?” Flir shouted when they reached a heavy gate barring entry to the Storm Singer’s walkway and Storm Seat.
“His rage presses against me. Already he’s flooded parts of the Lower Tier. Something calls to him. The bell, truly can you hear it not?”
Only the roar of the storm followed her words. She removed a key from around her neck, fitting it to the gate and opening the way. Spray from the wild water, which crashed over the stone walkway, drenched their feet and legs. Lavinia stood firm, stepping onto the path. A circle of stars embroidered on her clothing caught the light. “I will soothe him.”
Flir jerked Lavinia back when another wave hit the grate. Notch kept one arm wrapped through the links. “It’s too dangerous.”
Lavinia shook her head, red hair darkened and plastered to her face. “Wait. Hold me, will you?”
Flir gripped her waist, linking her own leg through the gate as Lavinia leaned into the chaos.
Again the Storm Singer’s voice cut through the discord. Not sweet, but strong. It rose to compete with the wind and her chest expanded as she spread her arms, as if to guide her song amongst the fury. Notch turned away. The song was too strong. The wind faltered. Waves receded, the swell of water lapping at his toes only, where before it threatened his knees. Her song intensified, this time making no effort to weave between the storm. She assaulted the storm, driving it back. A shaft of sunlight slipped through black clouds and Notch sucked in a breath.
She was pushing it back.
On Lavinia sang, her voice ringing out even as her arms trembled. A swell covered his boots and he gave a shout when a new wave roared up, burying the Storm Seat and crashing toward them. Over the new thunder and flashing jags of lightning, he reached for Flir.
The sea hit them and Lavinia’s song was lost.
Foaming water slammed Notch into the wall and pain exploded in his chest, but he was not sucked back out. He’d linked his arm within the gate and white spots danced before him, but he kept his feet, jaw clenched at the burning in his arm. The ocean had wrenched his shoulder. Had the lenasi begun to wear off already? No surprise, the sea had the strength of a million Flir’s. Angry ones.
“Flir?”
Stretched to her limit, the slight woman had one arm around Lavinia, whose form was limp, while the other clung to the gate, which had bent beneath her grip. He slid forward when the wave receded, helping to pull Lavinia in. Flir steadied him and they scrambled to carry the Storm Singer up several steps before another wave hit.
“There,” Flir gasped.
“Further.” Notch grunted as the crash of another wave tugged at his feet. Flir’s hand shot out and anchored him. Together they carried Lavinia higher, Notch resting her head in his lap. “Storm Singer?”
Her eyes fluttered, and she coughed, leaning over to spit water. She looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I’m not strong enough – he is possessed of something.”
“What now?”
“Take me... above,” she panted. “To the walls.”
Flir scooped her up and started climbing. The crashing of waves echoed in the stairwell.
Notch paused at the top, legs wobbling a moment. He huffed. His ribs were biting him from the inside, but it wasn’t crippling yet. Luik would have nudged him, told him he was getting old. “Damned if I am,” Notch said to himself.
Flir paused. Lamplight in the basement cast them in shadow. “What?”
“Nothing, keep going.”
With the unrest in the palace, no-one was inclined to stop them. Had any servant or Shield attempted to do so, Notch would have sent one of them to get a healer for Lavinia. Which wasn’t a bad idea. And wasn’t one already on the way to her rooms?
“Do you need healing, Lady?” he asked.
“Just rest.”
“Flir, we have to see what’s happening out there.”
She snorted. “Think you can stop this?”
“We better try something.”
“I know. I know,” she said. “But we can’t leave her here.”
Lavinia tried to turn her head, and Notch stepped into her line of vision. “Lavinia, we’re going to take you to –”
“No,” she gasped the word. The Storm Singer shivered. “I must see too. Only I know how to stop him.”
“But you’re exhausted.”
“Take me,” she said. “I command you, please.”
Notch exchanged a glance with Flir, who shrugged. Something had to be done. And he wasn’t going to say no to a Storm Singer. He nodded.
Flir set a brisk pace. It did not take long to find their way out of the palace, crossing an empty courtyard and wrestling with a gate. Wind tore across the grounds, whipping rain, leaves, dirt and even small stones in their path. Flir strode forward, cradling Lavinia as she approached the walls. Notch struggled to keep up, both the pain and buffeting of the storm strong enough to knock him off course several times.
Closer to the white wall, now grey in the storm light, a pair of Shields slipped from the gatehouse, waving their arms. Notch signalled to one of them, stopping close enough to see beads of water in the man’s beard.
He shouted over the wind. “Sergeant, we must take the Storm Singer onto the wall.”
The man’s eyes widened. “My lady, forgive me. It’s dangerous, you might be swept off.”
Lavinia waved a hand. “That is my wish.”
“She might be able to stop this,” Notch added. Not that the Shield could refuse her, but he understood the man’s concern.
The Shields ushered them into the guard tower. A long table stood before a fireplace, whose flames were whipped about by wind sneaking cold fingers down the chimney. A row of spears and bushels of arrows stood opposite. Two other Shields shot to their feet, a set of bone dice clinking between them.
“What’s happening, Sergeant?” one asked. He noticed Lavinia. “My lady.”
“They’re going up. The Storm Singer is going to help us,” he said. The Shields exchanged glances. Lavinia had barely stirred in Flir’s arms.
“Quickly,” Flir said.
The sergeant opened a door to a stairwell, the wood leaping from his hands to slam shut. He cursed and dragged it open again, waving them up. “Careful up there.”
Notch thanked him as they passed. He slipped on the damp stones near the top and drew a bolt with a muttered curse. The moment it came free the storm ripped the hatch from his hand. He climbed up and caught it, crouching beneath the battlements and closing his eyes a moment. Damn ribs!
Flir followed, one arm easily holding Lavinia, and joined him.
He peered over the stone.
Wreckage.
The harbour roiled. Black water crashed into the Lower Tier as a mighty shape thrashed. The Sea Beast’s body was a mess of darkness in an already shadowy sea. Lightning laced the water with white, but the wind and rain in his eyes obscured everything.
The wharves were in ruin. Half the Lower Tier looked to have been submerged, flotsam and tiny spots of colour swirled. Barely a single vessel remained, reduced to half-submerged blobs or so much floating kindling.
The Sea Beast gave another heave and Lavinia groaned. A thunderclap of water struck the lower wall, spilling into the streets. Great holes were visible in the section of wall. People scurried toward the safety of the Second Tier, where he imagined they would be beating on the gate in desperation.
“It’s going to drown the entire tier,” he shouted. “The harbour’s already ruined, along with half the damned navy.”
Lavinia tilted her head back and raised her voice. It was a clear note but it barely lessened the wind, so quiet it seemed. She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a shuddering breath. “I cannot.”
“Then let it wear itself out,” Flir said.
“It won’t happen. It is not a being like you or I,” Lavinia said. “I fear it will continue until it has covered the whole city. And the sea is endless.”
“Then what can we do?”
“Only a Storm Singer can stop this.”
Flir wiped her face with her free hand. “Then we find another singer.”
“There are no others.”
Notch’s stomach lurched. “At all?”
“In Anaskar. My daughters are too young,” she said, struggling to compete with the wind. “My brother is... not yet returned with them.”
“There’s no-one else?”
She squinted against the rain. “Even if there were, I doubt they would be strong enough. Something calls the Beast, it interferes with my song.”
Below, the Sea Beast continued to pummel the city with successively larger waves. People were dying, hundreds, maybe thousands. Tenaci and his fellow street children, who knew how they fared beneath the city? The aqueducts were probably flooded too.
“Take her down.” He wrenched open the trap door. Flir climbed through and he followed, shivering with each step.
“Make space near the fire,” Flir called ahead. A chair waited before the blaze, which the guards had banked. It still fought the wind, but the flames were strong enough to hold.
“Rest a moment,” Flir said. Notch followed her across the room. “Let’s send one of the Shields to get the healer, or a covered carriage at least.”
“Good idea.” He waved to the sergeant. “Soldier, attend to me.”
He rushed over. “Sergeant Nolo, sir.”
“Nolo, get to the palace. A healer or a carriage. Go.”
He saluted and ran from the room.
“The rest of you, find your captain. Someone has to organise rescue for the Lower Tier.”
The men hesitated. They were obviously torn. On one hand they saw a mercenary, on the other, a man who was obviously trusted by the Storm Singer. “But our post –”
“People are dying,” he barked.
“What shall we tell the captain?” one asked.
“To take a look outside his window. Now go.”
The Shields scrambled for the door. He shook his head, but Flir raised an eyebrow. “Feel good to be ordering men around again, Captain?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“I’m not ill,” Lavinia said from her chair.
“You need warmth,” Notch said.
She did not turn. Lavinia’s hair fell over her face, but her head shot up and she tried to stand. “Wait. There is another.” She flailed and Notch caught her hand.
“My lady?”
“He was the strongest of us. Abrensi. I do not know if he still lives. He was... taken out of the public eye.”
Flir moved closer. “What does that mean?”
“The palace believed him possessed because he spoke to himself often. He was ‘dangerous’ to the reputation of the king.”
Notch frowned. Something about the description was familiar. “Where would they have taken him?”
“The Lord Protector told me only that Abrensi was not dead.”
“I know where to find him.”
Chapter 44
Sofia launched herself at Tantos with a scream, slamming into his shoulder. He slipped in blood, twisting on the floorboards beside Derrani’s body. Thunder crashed and somewhere, windows rattled.
“You can’t understand.” He reached his knees in time to catch her kick. He held her ankle in bloody hands. “Please, Sofia.”
“No.” She jerked free and snatched up one of his knives. Tantos caught her opposing arm, but she swung his blade and it glanced off his raised wrist.
He cursed and the room went black.
A hush followed. Her breath was a coarse thing. She kept the knife up and turned to the sound of his footsteps. She slashed but found only air.
“Derrani killed her, Sofia. In the night, while she slept in our bed. I woke to her cold skin.”
She lashed out again, but his voice came from behind her now.
“And do you know what our father did, Sofia?”
A stab into the ink.
From another corner of the room. “He ordered her death himself.”
“He’d never do that,” she cried.
“How little you know father. Has he explained your duty, yet, Sofia? The Successor is a slave.” A bitter laugh. “He admitted to her murder before he drove me from our home. He called it his duty.”
“He’d never do that. He searched the coast for you, when word came. He found the longboat. You were dead, Tantos. We wept for you.”
“Perhaps you did, Sofia. But not Father.” His voice was directly before her. “He searched, but only to keep me from re-entering the city. To prevent justice. But I found a way to return.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “You’re lying again.”
“If it pleases you to believe as much, I won’t stop you.” From yet another part of the room.
Sofia tripped on something soft. Derrani. She scrambled back, hitting a wall and swearing. The tang of blood was sharp in the room. She climbed to her feet. “Tantos, I can’t let you leave.” Bluster. She was powerless.
“If I wanted to leave, you couldn’t stop me.”
“What does that mean?”
Something knocked the blade from her hand and Argeon flared in the dark, hovering before her. “I don’t want to leave.”
“Speak sense, Tantos!”
He gripped her shoulders. His breath rasped behind Argeon. “Did you know there’s an island, beyond the Grave Sea where bones cover the whole beach and the grassland beyond? There are winding paths between them, they stretch on, ever deeper, feeding into a vast depression.
“At its centre is ancient bone. Bone that will never truly sleep, bone from which the First Masks were carved. Masks that make Argeon, Osani and the king’s mask seem young. Restless even. In search of knowledge. Were you to touch it, as I have, you would see with wider eyes.” He squeezed. “It is horrible.”
“I don’t understand.” She tugged at his arms. “If you want to tell me something, then tell me. No more riddles.”
He did not let go. “And those who carved them, Sofia. You would not believe. They look to us.”
“Tantos?”
He grunted, as if struck a blow. “Do you know what happens to people who are addicted to lenasi?”
She struggled but he kept on.
“They need it all the time. And for a while, they feel wonderful. They forget the craving, the sweating, the chills and the pain. But after that, the real trouble begins. Before that happens, Sofia – find a good healer.”
“Why are you telling me this, if it was you who poisoned me?”
“Because no-one else will tell you when I’m gone.”
“Gone?” She wrapped her blood-slick hands around his wrists. “You have to pay for everything you’ve done. For your whole life, for all I know.”
His body gave a violent jerk, but he did not let go. His laugh was unsteady. “A shorter life than I’d once hoped.”
“What have you done?”
Now he let go. The mask fell through shadow. It struck the floor and was still. His breathing laboured. “No apologies, Sofia. It wouldn’t mean anything coming from me.”
She trembled in the dark.
“Tell father...” He heaved a breath. “Tell him he shouldn’t have kept Derrani from me. Tell him Gianna was no assassin. And tell him... tell him I would have come for him next, had he been here.”
“What?” Sofia spluttered. “He’s our father.”
“Yes,” he hissed. A hand pulled her down. “When you take Argeon, don’t lose him. He has much to tell you.”
“Tantos?”
He continued as if she had not spoken, voice softening. “Don’t blame Father as I do. Keep your innocence, Sofia. Do not become me. Father thought he was doing the right thing. Even Seneschal Fratali thought betraying Gianna and I amounted to the right thing.” He writhed, gasping for air. “As do we all, I imagine.”
When had fresh tears come? She fumbled for one of his hands. His fingers could barely close around her hand. “This isn’t right.”
“Of course it is. But I had to avenge Gianna first.”
She thumped the floorboards. “You selfish bastard.” He was going to avoid justice. Somehow, he’d manage to take something and now he was dying. Still he manipulated her. “And what of all the people you killed? Is this all the justice you offer them? Or me, for the wrongs committed against your own family? Gods, I wanted to believe in you, Tantos.”
“You’ll share my end with everyone. Tell them about my cowardice.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Then you never wanted to be King, never wanted to survive?”
“Vinezi wanted to rule from shadow. I only wanted you. Only you could help me find Derrani. Only you would have drawn Father back.”
She flinched. All along, he’d used her to murder Derrani? And to bait their father? Every move but a move to build his revenge. All his indulgences as Lupo became clear. The way he’d stood while smiling behind his mask. So familiar because it was the way Tantos stood when he laughed. The way he’d produced the key to her father’s study in the manor. And the trip to see the ocean in the carriage, had it been sincere then? It hardly mattered now. “I’m not responsible. You would have found a way without me, brother.”
“Perhaps I wanted also to see you again.” He gave another shiver. “See that you were safe.”
“You can’t do this.” More tears came and she dashed them away. He didn’t deserve grief. “What have you taken?”
“Nothing. I made a pact with Argeon to put an end to me. He works slowly.”
She beat his chest. “Reverse it.”
“Everything will be better now.”
Better? For who she didn’t know, Lupo or Tantos, but the last breath rushed out of him and he stiffened. Argeon went dark a moment, and then light returned. The shop was as before, though her brother lay dead before her, his traitor’s robes bloodstained and his hands red, limp.
Argeon was black. Only a white streak remained. It ran from forehead to chin, not unlike a lock of hair.
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