Firestorm Page 14

  Shune gave him a withering look. He tossed the drink back, scrawny throat bobbing with each swallow before coughing once and wiping his mouth. ‘Better.’

  While Arvaka looked faintly impressed, Kyndra seated herself beside the old man. ‘What’s been going on, Shune? Have you heard from Hagdon?’

  ‘Not since they arrived at the Deadwood,’ the Wielder said. ‘But he should be pleased. Amon’s singlehandedly resupplying the Republic. Plenty of men still loyal to the old general. Just need to find them.’

  Ma dropped down on Shune’s other side. ‘News can wait,’ she said sharply. ‘We need your help to determine when the eldest might strike. I have to know how far back the Yadin’s timeline goes. When did he come into being?’

  Realdon Shune’s eyes took on the distance of memory, carrying Kyndra with him. Again she saw him as Kierik had seen him: young, arrogant, dark haired. A shadow of that arrogance remained in his face. He’d defied Kierik, claiming the empire was Acre’s future. She wondered what had made him so sure. And when he had changed his mind.

  ‘It was a mistake, I see it now,’ Shune said, ‘bound to have repercussions impossible to predict. But Solinaris was at the height of her power. We had run out of challenges, yearned to create a legacy … such was the environment which bred the idea of the Yadin.’

  ‘But when?’ Ma pressed.

  ‘I was getting to that,’ the old Wielder said testily. ‘478 – during the early rise of the empire.’

  Ma’s face fell. ‘That covers a broad range of years,’ she murmured. ‘So many possibilities.’

  ‘Can the eldest undermine Sartya?’ Char asked. ‘What would he have to do?’

  ‘Davaratch was the keystone of the empire,’ Shune said, his head tilted thoughtfully. ‘The first emperor. The man who built Sartya. By the time he died, it was an established power, already bringing multiple territories under its banner.’ He paused. ‘I think one can say, with some certainty, that without Davaratch, it’s quite probable the empire wouldn’t exist.’

  ‘Sartya has shaped Acre,’ Ma said, nodding. ‘And the history of Acre. It is such an integral part of this world and its people that stripping it out could have consequences even the eldest cannot foresee.’ Her expression hardened. ‘It could warp the flow of time, create inescapable paradoxes. He must be stopped.’

  ‘So targeting Davaratch himself seems the obvious choice,’ Kyndra concluded. ‘But as emperor, he’d be well-protected. We’d have to find out when he was most vulnerable.’

  Shune gave her a considering look. ‘Have you thought about asking the stars?’

  She blinked at him. ‘What?’

  ‘Are they not eternal? Did they not witness Sartya’s rise to power?’

  ‘I …’ Kyndra’s mouth dried. Era, are you listening?

  No answer. Kyndra frowned to herself. Any of you, she thought at them.

  Still no answer. She was aware of the others watching her curiously. I command you to speak to me! She threw the words into the void with all the force she could muster.

  Have a care, Starborn, Era’s hollow voice replied, there are things we are not permitted to say.

  Kyndra felt a flicker of affront. Am I not your avatar? Aren’t you supposed to obey me?

  We obey, Era replied frustratingly. We obey your command.

  My? Kyndra stopped, struck by an impossible thought. When did I give you this command?

  She sensed Era’s evasiveness. Before.

  Before what?

  Before now.

  Kyndra shook her head. I don’t understand. If I gave you a command, why can’t I remember giving it?

  Because you have not given it yet.

  She drew in a deep breath to swallow her annoyance. A paradox. All right, you can’t answer. But if I’ve already travelled in time, you must have told me where to go. Or how would I have known to go there?

  They were silent for a long time. At least so it seemed; in reality it could have been mere moments. Ask the Wielder, Era said tentatively, as if the star were afraid of revealing too much, or of breaking her own command. Ask the Wielder about the failed assassination attempt.

  On whom? Kyndra pressed, but Era’s presence faded. She sighed and opened her eyes to find the others watching closely. Shune looked especially fascinated. ‘They’re being evasive,’ Kyndra said to him. ‘They told me to ask you about a failed assassination.’

  Shune’s brow furrowed. For a few seconds, he stared into space before his eyes abruptly regained their focus and he slapped his knee. ‘Of course!’ he exclaimed and then waved his cup at Arvaka. ‘More, dragon.’ The Lleu-yelin muttered something under his breath before doing as the old man asked. ‘I should have remembered before,’ Shune said once his mug had been refilled. ‘But five hundred years do tend to blur the memory.’

  ‘Remembered what?’ Ma said. She shifted impatiently on her cushion.

  ‘That Davaratch was nearly killed.’ Shune drank; this time he didn’t cough. ‘It wasn’t the first attempt,’ he continued. ‘Wasn’t the last, either, but it was the only time the assassin nearly succeeded.’ He grimaced, burped, and Ekaar wrinkled her nose distastefully.

  Ma leaned forward. ‘Who was the assassin?’

  ‘No idea. Perhaps they were in the pay of a rival house. In those days, the Heartland was an arena, a place of power struggles and poison. House Sartya had no other scions. If Davaratch had died, Sartya would never have maintained its grip on the capital …’ Shune trailed off, his eyes on Ma’s paling face. A chill premonition seized Kyndra.

  ‘That is where the eldest will go,’ Ma said, standing. ‘That is what he will do.’

  ‘Or what he’s already tried to do,’ Kyndra whispered, thinking of Era.

  We obey your command.

  Did the star mean this had already happened? Had that assassin actually been the eldest? Kyndra felt a headache coming on. Do not think about it, Era cautioned her. What has been has been. What will be will be. But only if the conditions are right.

  ‘You’re making it worse,’ Kyndra snapped before realizing she’d spoken aloud. ‘Not you,’ she added with a vague, dismissive wave. ‘I just can’t get my head around the idea of time and time travel.’

  ‘It took me my whole life,’ Ma said and Kyndra was surprised to hear wry amusement in her voice. When she next spoke, it had faded, and Ma’s expression was again sober. ‘We must close the loop,’ she said to Kyndra. ‘Ensure the past remains unchanged. The eldest cannot be allowed to succeed where once he failed.’

  ‘If we don’t, what will happen?’

  Ma spread her gloved hands. ‘We will be sailing in unknown waters. Davaratch will die before he can stabilize the empire. Everything we know from that point on will be different. Will any of us even exist?’

  The chamber stilled. Everyone sat frozen, staring aghast at Ma.

  ‘Time is one of the stiches that holds together the fabric of existence.’ In that moment, Ma’s voice seemed to echo with an ancient timbre. ‘If it is unpicked, unhooked from history …’ she trailed off. ‘It is difficult to explain in layman’s terms. But the threat is greater than any of you know.’

  For a while no one spoke, each attempting to process Ma’s words in their own way, Kyndra thought. She felt a throb in her weakened hand and it jolted her from her own contemplation. They needed to act now. ‘What must I do?’ she asked in a near whisper.

  ‘What you have already done,’ Ma answered cryptically. ‘Foil the assassination.’

  ‘And you can send me?’

  Ma nodded. ‘With the Wielder’s help.’

  Shune, Kyndra noticed, looked less than enthused. She steeled herself. ‘How long do you need to prepare?’

  ‘Not long.’ Without another word, Ma strode hurriedly from the chamber.

  ‘Do you recall the year of this assassination attempt?’ Arvaka asked Shune.

  The old Wielder scowled. ‘My memory isn’t that formidable. Possibly somewhere between 485 and 495.’

/>   ‘I will check our records.’ The Lleu-yelin rose gracefully and followed in Ma’s wake.

  ‘Tell me,’ Realdon Shune said into the space they’d left behind, ‘why the Yadin is a willing accomplice in this plan.’

  Kyndra sighed. ‘Medavle helped me in Naris, rescued me from the test, told me the truth about Kierik. I trusted him. But when we came to Acre, everything changed. He grew distant, began having nightmares—’

  Shune leaned forward. ‘Nightmares?’

  ‘About Isla. She was a Yadin too, killed by Kierik with the rest of her kind. The eldest promised to go back and save her.’ Kyndra shook her head. ‘I don’t understand why Medavle would risk so much for this.’

  Char turned to regard her. ‘Because he loved Isla.’

  ‘So? It was years ago.’

  ‘Some loves don’t fade with time. The eldest gave Medavle a way to save her – he couldn’t have offered anything more potent.’

  Kyndra frowned at him. ‘I thought Medavle was stronger than that. The world is too important to risk for the sake of a woman long dead.’

  ‘Clearly Isla was Medavle’s world.’ She thought she detected sadness in Char’s yellow eyes as they studied her. ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘You’re right – I don’t,’ she said with a bite of irritation. What was there to understand? Medavle’s actions were wholly irrational, especially for a man who’d lived centuries.

  ‘I tend to agree with the Starborn,’ Shune said crisply. ‘This Yadin is obviously unbalanced. A flaw in the race’s nature, I’m afraid. I argued against giving them the ability to love.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Unswerving obedience is easier to achieve through punishment and reward.’

  Char grunted disgust, deep in his throat. ‘Medavle’s no animal.’

  ‘Unfortunately not.’ Shune shrugged. Kyndra noticed Ekaar’s hackles rising as well and wondered whether the Wielder realized how frosty the atmosphere had become. Luckily, Ma re-entered at that moment, stripping off her gloves as she came. The ouroboros on her palms glittered in the bluish ambertrix light.

  ‘Wait,’ Shune said on seeing her face. ‘You want to do this now? You wouldn’t give an old man time to rest from his journey?’

  ‘If the stars are right, then Kyndra must be in place before the eldest.’

  ‘What does my role require, then?’ Shune asked somewhat nervously.

  ‘We will link hands and minds. I must have access to your memories.’

  ‘Out of the question,’ he snapped. ‘I carry secrets I swore never to divulge.’

  Ma shook her head irritably. ‘I do not plan to steal your secrets, old man. What use would I have for them?’

  ‘That is scant comfort.’

  ‘I cannot work without a link. I need to see your timestream.’

  ‘Shune,’ Kyndra said when the Wielder opened his mouth to argue further, ‘that’s why we brought you here.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘You will do as Ma says.’

  Shune glared at her. ‘Would you threaten an old man?’

  ‘If I was threatening you, you’d know about it,’ Kyndra replied evenly.

  The Wielder muttered something inaudible, but dropped his protest.

  She hadn’t expected nerves, Kyndra realized, listening to her own speeding heart. Her palms tingled; thoughts chased each other across the surface of her mind. It was the enormity of the task, she thought. The enormity and the impossibility, for who would believe that the past could be revisited, let alone changed?

  We’re not trying to change it, she reminded herself, we’re trying to preserve it. The deep irony of her task did not escape her. What would Kierik say if he knew she fought to protect Davaratch – a man who would go on to murder countless thousands? Kierik had thought Sartya unnatural and Kyndra finally understood why. No power was meant to grow so vast that it subjugated all others. That was what Starborn guarded against; they were protectors of the balance. And in order to guard humanity, they must stand outside it. Once upon a time, the revelation might have saddened her; now Kyndra felt nothing except the purity of understanding.

  A cry interrupted her thoughts. She looked up in time to see a shining bird swoop straight through the stone wall. She held out her good wrist and the envoi landed. Each careful feather crackled with both Solar and Lunar energy. The detail was familiar: Brégenne’s work, Nediah’s signature in the Solar. So they’d met up at last.

  She frowned as she read. Gareth was alive, but changed. He’d taken the news of Shika’s death surprisingly well. Shika. She’d almost forgotten – no, not forgotten – but so much had happened since that day in the red valley to push the novice out of her mind. Kyndra read on.

  Gareth has returned to Rairam, Brégenne reported, her neat hand spidering across Kyndra’s palm. Iresonté plans to bring the Fist across the border and the people of Rairam have only Ümvast and Naris to defend them. Kyndra sighed. If she didn’t have problems enough … I promised Hagdon I would help him take Parakat, Brégenne continued, the fortress built to house aberrations. The Republic needs their support. And their imprisonment is monstrous. A Sartyan lieutenant loyal to Hagdon has joined us and she believes other garrisons will come when they see that the Republic’s standard flies on the walls of Parakat.

  ‘They plan to do what?’ Char said when Kyndra had passed along the news. ‘Parakat’s a fortress surrounded by a bottomless chasm. Sartya could defend it with a handful of raw recruits. What does Hagdon think he’s doing?’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting Brégenne, Nediah, Kait and Irilin?’ Kyndra replied, though privately she shared some of Char’s doubt. ‘And Hagdon’s a sound tactician. They’ll have a plan.’

  The black dragon sat back. ‘It sounds like suicide.’

  ‘Brégenne wouldn’t agree to it if she thought they hadn’t a chance.’ Kyndra formed a reply in her head, telling Brégenne about the Lleu-yelin and the eldest’s plan. Raad, she commanded when finished, take my reply to Brégenne. The wolf shape wasn’t necessary, she thought, as she watched Raad assume it, but Brégenne wouldn’t be able to see the star otherwise.

  ‘481,’ Arvaka said as he re-entered, holding a thin piece of metal. Words in the Lleu-yelin language glowed softly, ambertrix-blue. He gestured with it. ‘The attempt was all the more extraordinary because it happened in the middle of the winter celebration, deep in the Sartyan stronghold – supposedly the safest place Davaratch could be.’

  Char looked at his father. ‘That’s not good. How is Kyndra going to get in there?’

  ‘Like this.’ Kyndra clothed herself in Fas, vanishing from sight.

  Char still seemed discomfited. ‘I wish you weren’t going alone. What if the eldest has du-alakat with him?’

  ‘She is Starborn,’ Ma said firmly. She’d been conferring with Shune. Now the Wielder’s face was set, if a little pale. ‘And the fewer who go, the less of a wound it will make in time.’ She turned her palms up; the ouroboros swam in endless circles over her flesh. ‘The eldest must use a mandala and it will not hold indefinitely, meaning he has a limited window in which to act. Your role is solely to thwart him, not to make changes of your own.’

  Kyndra nodded. ‘I understand.’

  Ma’s eyes narrowed on her face. ‘Remember. Your own life depends on your success. And most likely the lives of everyone here.’

  Kyndra noted the tense expressions of her companions. Arvaka, still clutching the metal tablet, stood beside his mate, a hand on her dusky scales. Char lashed his tail, his eyes never leaving Kyndra’s face. She could feel the moment fast approaching. It was foolish to put it off now that they knew what they had to do.

  ‘I won’t fail.’ Kyndra looked around the chamber. ‘Don’t you need a mandala too?’

  ‘No,’ Ma answered. ‘Khronostians dance in order to align themselves with the timestream in which they intend to travel.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I do not need to align myself. I stand like a rock in the river – time flows to either side of me. I am constantly immersed.’ She paused t
houghtfully. ‘To some extent, I am also the river. But subject to it.’

  ‘Did you understand any of that?’ Char said. His claws left scratches on the surface of the stone. Nobody answered.

  ‘How do I come back?’ Kyndra asked quietly. Her heart was beating harder now; so strange to feel even this small emotion. Isn’t it what you wanted? she told herself. To be left alone to do things your way?

  ‘Reach out to me,’ Ma said. ‘I will be listening.’

  At least she had the stars, Kyndra concluded. As long as she had them, there was nothing she couldn’t deal with. ‘How much time will pass while I’m gone?’

  ‘Time is a river full of shifting currents,’ Ma said. ‘Some flow swiftly, others slow and sluggish. You are travelling so far back that a day for you will be an hour for me. But I would advise you to hurry – even I cannot keep the connection open indefinitely.’

  ‘Be careful.’ Char nudged her with his nose. ‘Don’t take risks.’

  Ma gestured for Shune’s hand. It trembled as the old man gave it. ‘Stand there,’ she ordered Kyndra tightly. ‘And stay still. I have not done this before.’

  What little colour remained in Shune’s face drained away. ‘Now you tell us,’ he muttered.

  The twin ouroboros on Ma’s palms flared, light flowing under her skin, filling her eyes. At the same instant, Shune gasped. His own eyes flew wide.

  An intricate cage grew around Kyndra. It reminded her of the one Brégenne had conjured that night in Naris, the one that had saved her life. And then that thought was shattered by a bell, tolling and tolling, until her head rang with the awful sound. Remembering Ma’s command, she stayed still, fighting the desire to cover her ears. It wouldn’t do any good, she sensed; the bell was inside as well as outside. The longer she listened, the closer her internal note grew to the one beyond her until they harmonized in a sweeping, soaring chord. There was a rush, as though of water, which caught and whirled her through a roaring channel. She raised her eyes to Ma’s face only to see white. The world had turned to snow.

  She was kneeling in it, on hands and knees, ungloved fingers already going blue. Flakes drifted down around her, alighting on her face, her shoulders, and on the gleaming breastplate of the soldier who stood over her, drawn sword levelled at her heart. Automatically, she reached for Tyr.