“But you do.”

  “No. I foolishly thought that the extent of ‘Compelling’ was what could be done with the status, the awe and even the control we exert with our voices, the power it lends to spoken commands. How wrong I was.” He shook his head. “Compelling is much more than that – something I have had the misfortune of perfecting during my imprisonment here. Though ‘perfecting’ is a stretch. You must not attempt it unless I guide you.”

  “Father, no. You want me to practise doing that? To people? That’s what you did?”

  “I had a choice between experimenting for Efran or death.”

  “Ana.” Her stomach turned. “How dangerous is it?”

  “Had I less control, the Compelling might have hurt you and Emilio. Or anyone nearby.”

  “But I don’t understand. How did Efran learn of something you as Protector did not know?”

  “I could never discover.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to do that.”

  “I hope you will never need to.” He pulled back and smiled, holding Argeon out. “Now find your friends and show me, clever girl, how to ‘Spirit-Walk’. Argeon has never shared with me such a thing.”

  She accepted the mask. Despite the growing stiffness in her joints, a little glow formed in her chest. Something Father didn’t know? Perhaps Argeon had warmed to her after all.

  “I don’t know how to explain it, but my spirit roams while my body stays in place.”

  He checked on the women, who were talking amongst themselves, then turned back to Sofia. “Show me and I will try after you.”

  Argeon was cool, as ever, and the moment she put him on, the stiffness eased.

  Sofia!

  Metti’s voice burst into her mind.

  “Metti?”

  Sofia. The city is under attack by men in Greatmasks! Where are you?

  “What?” She nearly choked on the word. More Greatmasks?

  They have come from across the sea – your ancestors. They each wear Greatmasks and suits of bone. No-one can stand against them and they have control of the city. You must return.

  “Are you safe? What about the others?”

  For now but I don’t know –

  Silence.

  A chill ran across her skin. “Metti? Can you hear me?”

  “Sofia, what’s happening?” her father asked. “Is Metti in danger?”

  She returned Argeon. “I don’t know. She said that our ancestors attacked the city.”

  “Our ancestors?”

  “And that they all wear Greatmasks. I thought there were no more masks?”

  “Gather our charges, we have to leave.” He replaced Argeon. “And give me Osani too, Petal. He will need to speak with you now, whether he wishes it or not.”

  Greatmask

  Bone Mask Trilogy #3

  Chapter 1.

  Flir glared at the invaders.

  None of the giants could descend to the dim hold where she and Kanis were bound, chained to the hull at wrists, waists and ankles. Instead, three of the men in their blue cloaks and bone suits stood before them. One man held her in place, a second kept Kanis motionless – which included his mouth. He’d been cursing them constantly, until the leader, the third man whose breastplate was engraved with a charging bull, had snapped and given an order that silenced Kanis. It didn’t stop the fury in Kanis’ eyes though.

  Water gushed into the hull of the sinking ship, quickly reaching their captor’s ankles.

  Indicate your understanding of my words with a nod.

  No sound issued from behind the Greatmask. Instead, the voice echoed in her head. She glanced at Kanis, whose expression was one of surprise.

  One of the other men spoke, his language familiar the way Alosus’ had been, and the leader nodded.

  How did you resist us, girl? How did you – both of you – match the strength of the Gigansi?

  Flir stared back at him. His mask was similar to the Greatmasks, only it didn’t seem as old or as sturdy. The bone was brighter, cleaner, as if the object was maintained constantly. Care or vanity? And yet, its power was undeniable. He snapped a finger and her head thumped against the wood.

  Answer.

  Flir ground her teeth. “We’re stronger than most people.”

  The mask revealed nothing of what he thought about her response. And your pale skin? That is a...mark of your strength?

  “No. We were born in a land of ice and snow across the sea. Renovar.”

  And you two, and you alone, are the only significantly stronger Ren-ovar aboard?

  “Yes.”

  What do the Ren-ovar want with the City of Those who Fled?

  She shrugged as best she could. “Anaskar is the richest city in the world, what better reason?”

  A chuckle. As you see it, perhaps. And so you possess no bones?

  “We don’t need them.”

  The voice sounded amused. Possibly not.

  Again the three conferred. The chill of water climbed past her own feet, approaching her calves. When the leader finished he waved a hand in dismissal, cutting off what one of his fellows had been saying.

  What of the powder your ships carry? Where is it found?

  “It is made,” Flir said, glancing at Kanis.

  The leader gestured and Kanis spat out a breath. “I’ll kill you for sinking my ship.”

  I see.

  “You smug bastard, don’t think I won’t do it.”

  Very well. But first, I am going to send a message to my men on deck – asking them to begin crushing the ribcages of your surviving crew. A pause. Or you can answer me.

  Kanis glared across the space between them. “A man. We bought it from a man named Vinezi.”

  Silence followed his words.

  The invaders conferred yet again. The water continued to gush into the hold, rising to Flir’s knees. Barrels clunked together where they began to float. Finally the leader stopped.

  A heavy man? Confident, still somewhat graceful?

  “Yes.”

  Where is he now?

  “In the city somewhere,” Kanis replied. “He’s attacking it from within so that our smaller force can take the palace.”

  Still he meddles. The leader gestured to the other two, and sloshed toward the ladder, where he paused. You know what they say about the Captain of a ship.

  Flir glared after them. Something the invader said was odd. Still he meddles? Was it Vinezi, as much as a need for bones, that had brought the blue-robed strangers down upon the city? They started up and their hold on her vanished. Flir flexed her muscles, chains rattling. She shot a look at Kanis, who was already straining against the shackles.

  “Not yet.”

  He stopped. “What?”

  “If they knew we could break our bonds we’d be dead. They’d come back and finish us with their masks. Wait.”

  “Flir, the ship is sinking. You know I like to think I’m invulnerable but I’m pretty sure even we can drown.”

  “Idiot,” she snapped. “Just let them leave first. We can swim out of here easily enough.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Fine, fine.”

  Flir strained her ears. The footsteps of the invaders had already faded, leaving only the rush of water and the dull clink of chains as Kanis shuffled about. “Who are these people, Flir? Where did they even come from?”

  “Disappointed that they ruined your little attack?”

  “Not now, Flir.”

  “When?”

  “When we’re ashore, tomorrow, the next day, any time but now.”

  “They’re Anaskari ancestors – they’re the ones who stayed behind when the first ships sailed here and drove out the Medah.”

  “Wonderful. And their over-abundance of Greatmasks?”

  “I’m just as surprised as you.”

  Kanis looked to the water, which had risen above his knees. It swelled around her own thighs as the ship pitched and groaned.

  “That’s enough.” She wrenched an arm free. Kanis had already torn both his arms from the chains and was working on the band at his waist. Flir ripped one side from the wall then reached into the water to tear at the shackles on her feet.

  Kanis repeated the process with his own legs. The water had now climbed to his waist. Flir followed suit, growling at the resistance when she ducked into the cold.

  By the time she stood again, she could tread water.

  “Ready?” Kanis asked. He waited near the hole in the hull, his hand gripping a ceiling beam. She swam over, the rush of water that flowed into the hull pushing at her legs. She ducked around the last lamp swinging overhead. In moments, it would be doused as the ship continued its drowning.

  “Break the surface gently,” Flir said. “They might be watching.”

  “Of course.” The flow had reached his neck.

  “Follow me to the wall; I know a way into the city that no-one will be watching.”

  He nodded.

  Flir took a deep breath and dived down. In the dim water, she drove to the hole in the hull, pulling herself out and kicking against the draw of the sinking ship before heading for the wavering light.

  Her lungs held easily. Not only was the surface close enough, but her necklace of Bel’s hair aided her. Light grew as Flir swam, slowing her momentum before breaking the surface and sucking in air.

  In the dull pre-dawn light, Kanis’ ship was sinking steadily. She kept her head low, squinting against the lap of waves. The blue fleet had hemmed in the Renovar ships, none of which offered much movement on decks. Some of the invaders were collecting acor, stores and prisoners; others were piling into longboats and heading for shore.

  Kanis broke beside her, expression dark. “I really will get him, you know.”

  “Think you can recognise him again? He might not be the only one with a bull carving.”

  “If he speaks, I will. Or I could just kill them all, save the trouble of hunting him down.”

  She snorted. “Let’s get ashore first.” She swam for the wall and its opening, barely visible against the dark rock face. Would Alfeo and his mother still be safe? And Pevin too, was he sitting there worried, staring across the water? He’d get a surprise when she turned up with Kanis.

  Flir speared the water with her hands, kicking swiftly.

  “Can’t you go any faster?” Kanis said from beside her.

  “Shut up.”

  She swam on. It had certainly been quicker with Bel’s help. She slowed as the wall grew large before her, treading water to signal back to a hand that slipped from the darkness. She closed the remaining distance and called up.

  “Pevin?”

  “Here, dilar.”

  “Is everyone safe?”

  “For now.”

  Alfeo’s voice echoed that he and his mother were fine.

  Flir glanced over her shoulder to the activity on the ships. No sign of pursuit. Good. “Pevin, can you find some rope?”

  “Of course, dilar.” He paused, glancing at Kanis with a slight frown, but disappearing.

  “How long will that take?” Kanis said.

  “Getting cold?”

  “It’s not pleasant.” He waved a hand at the wall, droplets splashing. “Who’s your slave?”

  “He’s not a slave.”

  “You mean you haven’t Bound him to you?”

  She glared at him. “I’m not like you, Kanis.”

  “Anymore.”

  “Shut up or we’ll find out if you can drown, got it?”

  He grinned but said nothing.

  She called up to Alfeo. “Do you know what’s happening in the city?”

  “The explosions have stopped,” he said. Flir paused to listen. He was right, she hadn’t even noticed and it should have been obvious. Too used to the silence after being captured and left in the hull.

  There would be hand-to-hand fighting in the streets. The Lower Tier was probably overrun by now, especially with the blue-robed invaders added to the fighting. They’d take the palace soon enough. Were Seto and Luik still alive? Lavinia? Alosus?

  How, by Mishalar, was the city going to fight off that many Greatmasks?

  Chelona wouldn’t make a difference. Neither would Argeon or Osani, even if they were present. Flir ground her teeth. No matter, someone had to do something. To the Harper first. If it still stood. Or maybe the underground. Eventually they’d have to sneak into the palace, to find Seto and everyone else.

  “So what’s your plan?” Kanis asked. Water dripped from his short hair.

  “Find a safe place to figure this out. There’s an inn; we’ll start there if you and your acor haven’t blown it to pieces.”

  “Flir, I –”

  “That better not be the start of an apology.”

  He looked away, muttering.

  Pevin returned, feeding rope down to the waterline. “Ready.”

  Flir took the rope and gave it a light tug. It held and she climbed, the water pulling at her clothes with the added weight. At the top, she gripped the edge of the opening and hauled herself up to be met by a smiling Pevin. Alfeo was hopping on one foot and his mother sat in the shadows watching.

  “Dilar, you are safe.”

  “For now. I’m glad you are too, Pevin.”

  His smile widened and his expression grew into one of surprise when Kanis joined them. “You are dilar.”

  “I am but don’t worry about it. Where to next?” He grinned down at Alfeo then looked to the end of the tunnel. “Where does this lead?”

  “Above ground,” Flir said. She made introductions then led them back to the other passage and up the ladder. Kanis carried Alfeo’s mother, much to her shock – if the shriek of surprise was any indicator – and then Flir was sliding the covering free, pausing before peering above the ledge. Smoke drifted across an empty street. Rubble from the Lower Tier wall lay at one end and shadows from the rising sun covered the cobblestones at the other.

  “Quickly.” She pulled herself free and dashed across the street and into a stone building, waving the others after. The structure had no roof, timber having been burnt away. Ash and cinder was heavy in the air and Flir coughed when it tickled her throat. She started a circuit of the room while Kanis set Alfeo’s mother down. Pevin had taken up a watch position at the door.

  “Can we go home now?” Alfeo asked.

  “Not safe yet,” his mother replied.

  “I’m a little hungry,” he said.

  Kanis nodded. “The lad is right. I could eat a horse, its saddle and then the stable too.”

  Flir paused at a stack of steel frames where they rested beside barrels of bolts and nails. “One thing at a time. We need to reach the Second Tier first and we don’t know what’s between us and it.”

  “We’ll just have to keep out of sight, then,” he said.

  Pevin spun, gesturing for quiet. “Someone comes.”

  Flir motioned Kanis toward the doorway and circled to the opposite side, while Pevin moved Alfeo and his mother to a corner. Flir glanced across at Kanis. The fool was grinning.

  Marching footsteps echoed along the street; a heavy tread. Heading up from the harbour. A fresh landing of troops? Flir pressed her cheek against cold stone and waited. The footfalls grew louder.

  “How many?” she whispered to Kanis.

  “Dozen?”

  “If they enter, take the Masks out first. At least some of them can be broken,” she said.

  He flexed his fingers into fists. “Right.”

  A hint of blue swished into view, followed by the hulking shoulders of what the Greatmask wearer had called the Gigansi, Alosus’ people. A dozen giants followed six men in blue-cloaks. They towered over the magic-users, whose heads swivelled as they strode along. The dark eyes of the nearest bone mask swept over the empty doorway but no-one paused or even slowed.

  They marched on and Flir sighed.

  “Strange, isn’t it?” Kanis said. His grin was gone.

  “Seeing so many masks?”

  “No.”

  “The giants?”

  “Being afraid.”

  “I wasn’t afraid. Just concerned,” she said. “They’d cause us trouble, but they aren’t invincible.”

  He didn’t appear convinced. “If you say so.”

  “I do. Now, get moving, I want to reach the Harper.” She strode across the room and tore a heavy iron bar free from one of the frames. “We have to figure out how to get into the palace at least.”

  Chapter 2.

  The breeze off the distant ocean tasted of smoke, as if the entire city were smouldering, casting the evidence of its ruin up to Seto where he stood on the palace walls, surrounded by enemies.

  In the streets below, the newcomers moved through the darkening Second Tier, sometimes proclaiming their rule to citizens, sometimes fighting Shield or Renovar, sometimes forming groups to battle raging fires or collect stray barrels of acor but most importantly, most hideously, organising their trains of bones, stolen from the palace.

  Lines of the Gigansi carried trays of bone toward the smoking harbour, sometimes hauling carts themselves or pressing horses and wagons into the task, and even carrying the massive rib bones from shoulder to shoulder.

  And all of it overseen by the blue-cloaks, the Ecsoli, who directed traffic from street corners.

  The lines of white weaved by smoking buildings with red-glowing bases, shattered inns and blackened squares, through the Antico Gate – one door hanging from a single hinge – and all the way down through the Lower Tier, which, unlike the Second Tier, was still aflame. The staging area for the invaders, their giant blue pavilions visible even at a distance, was clear of fire. The area covered the harbour and the stone before it, often passing through the wreckage of the Lower Wall, which was now a mess of rubble with odd peaks standing like shattered teeth.

  Beyond, longboats had already begun their work of ferrying bones to the Old Ones’ ships, which had formed a loose blockade across the harbour. Many of the Renovar ships had been sunk or cleared of sails and rigging, but a few had been commandeered – no doubt to aid in carrying more of the Sea Beast’s bones to the Old Land.

  “Surely you believe now, King Oseto?”

  The one called Corvus stood behind him, blue cloak wrapped around his broad shoulders. He had the build of a warrior, rather than the more agile look common to the Mascare. A sword was belted at his waist and his breastplate of bone, along with his bone gauntlets, were decorated with black ravens. Only his Greatmask remained clear of markings and it wore the familiar look of age that Seto knew from Chelona and Argeon.

 

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