Chapter seventy

Tlaxacapec

‘You need some water’ spluttered the Priest, as the Thief struggled out of the giant helm. The Priest offered him a full water skin and he drank it in one long draft.

‘Were they fooled?’

The Thief smiled grimly.

‘It seems that they were, given that I am back here alive…’

The Priest said nothing to this.

‘What did they say?’ he asked instead

‘They requested that I come back and find all there is to know about a witch named Kratos’

‘Ahh’ muttered the Priest, ‘he is the Supreme Archwitch, the world’s Great Antagonist’

The Thief ignored the rhetoric.

‘That’s as maybe, but I cannot find out anything about his intentions, can I, as I have no scrying powers’

The Priest sighed.

‘All we can do is play for time; stall for as long as my Master needs’

‘And how long is that?’

The Priest shrugged guiltily.

‘I do not know. The grey Wanderer has given me no instructions for some time’

The Thief dried himself with a towel. Then he picked up the Grey Helm carefully and hung it on a spectral hook.

‘How do you know that he has not abandoned you?’ he asked

The Priest shrugged again, even more emphatically this time.

‘He may have done – but it would not change my avocation’ 

‘And what about me. Am I just to stay here until the gods find me out and destroy me?

‘That’s up to you’ said the Priest, ‘you can leave whenever you want to…’

The Thief glared. He sat down on the lip of his pallet and began to dress.

‘Bring me some food’ he barked, and that was where the conversation ended.

 

It was two hours later; dinner was half eaten and they sat in gloomy silence.

Something made the Priest look round. There was a wolf standing in the doorway of the unnavigable labyrinth that led to their secret living area. The Priest scarcely blinked. He turned to the animal and bowed very low.

‘My lord’ he said, ‘It is an honour’

The Thief had no idea what was going on. What was this creature and what was he doing here?

The coyote simply turned round and pointed his nose at a strange man behind him. Then he was gone, without a whimper, bang or flash.

‘I’ve come a long way’ the strange man said, in uncertain Ethian, his voice coarse from lack of use.

The intruder was covered from head to foot in dirt and his only clothes were two strips of impala hide. He looked like a savannah bushman, but he didn’t sound anything like one. The Thief could certainly not place his accent.

‘Who are you?’ asked the Thief, ‘and where have you come from?’

‘I’m not sure’ croaked the dirty man, ‘and I don’t think it matters anymore’

The Priest was still staring at where the coyote had disappeared, but now he turned abruptly to address the newcomer.

‘Perhaps a more important question, then, is where are you going?’

The dirty man looked around a little wildly.

‘Claria in Eddorre’ he whispered

The Priest smiled. It was a very gentle smile.

‘Well, then you’ve arrived. But things have rather changed here…’

‘We call it Tlaxapec now…’ muttered the Thief. The Priest glared at him.

The ragged man looked round the bare cell.

‘Where is the Curia, the Temple of all Gods and the Great Aqueduct, that engineering marvel of the world’

All gone a millennia ago, all gone under the hill, thought the Thief, but he dare not speak again. He knew that something was happening that was important but he couldn’t work out what it was.

‘It is too dangerous to examine any of those things at the moment’ explained the Priest, ‘we are in peril ‘

The man looked up at him with pleading eyes.

‘But I must find it’ he said

‘What? What must you find?’

The dirty man was now blinking rapidly. Tears were dropping to the floor in time with his blinks.

‘The chair….’

‘A chair? What sort of chair?’

The intruder had to hold his head in his hands to squeeze out the knowledge.

‘A large one made of gold…’

The Priest examined the haggard man carefully. The poor creature was damaged, but he had a familiar aura. He looked very closely. He has been healed by my master. I cannot abandon him to his mad quest. 

‘Stay with us and we will protect you…’ he urged.

This was too much for the Thief.

‘How will we do that? We have no way of protecting ourselves…’

‘…as best we can’

 The dirty man considered this.

‘I have no other offers’ he said flatly.

The Priest took that as an agreement and moved on.

‘Did the coyote lead you here?’ he asked

‘The wolf? Yes… There was something strange about him’

The Priest smiled

‘That is quite true’

 But he must have done it for a reason thought the Priest, and we need to find out what that is. And who you are.

 ‘He is a god; he is known to elves and humans as Rhopadon,’ he explained.

The two humans stared at him, as if they had a thousand questions to ask, but neither of them seemed to be able to force one out. Silence descended again.

The Thief got up and offered the dirty man an edge of his pallet to sit on. He went over to the stew pot and ladled the dregs into his now empty bowl. He handed it to the stranger. 

‘Eat’ he commanded, but his tone was not unkind.

Chapter seventy A

The Exotic Stack Library, Kinspit University

Nigel had already examined the door, ‘Very fine engineering, Ang’ he had said ‘but a bit out of my area’. ‘And mine’ Angharad  had agreed. They had spent a long time staring at it, but neither of them seemed willing to touch it.

Bentley had had enough. She knocked on the door. It swung open.  A slender elf in a pale toga stood behind the door.

‘Who are you?’ she asked.

There was no time to answer.  Military footfalls echoed down the steps behind them. A troop of soldiers, perhaps twenty strong, came marching down the stairs. They wore  uniforms, but with cloaks bearing a black panther insignia. Bentley thought they looked rather smart; particularly one tall, very dark haired, female soldier who held herself particularly erect. Bentley was too astonished to be afraid.

‘Let us through – we’re the city guard’ announced their leader, a much rounder female elf with  a booming voice.

‘Are you really?’ asked Bentley, ‘you’re dressed a bit strangely…’

The leader elf stopped and stared at her. The others in her group stopped too; dutifully behind her. The slender elf took a step through the doorway.

‘You’re not the city guard’ said Bentley

‘Yes we are…’ insisted the round elf, ‘…new dispensation’

‘Are you from Helios?’ asked the Naga

There was a murmur of surprise that spread round the guards; even their leader joined in. Bentley felt she had to intervene.

‘I’m not sure where that is, but it seems that they are from there’

The tall soldier, her leader and another troop member went into a little huddle. At least this time, though, their deliberations were brief.

‘Originally, yes’ answered the leader, ‘but now we are part of the Queen’s city guard and loyal to our new country’

‘Helios…’ murmured Angharad, ‘…that was the place where John ended up’

The naga flashed green. It was a split second thing but it was striking enough to make everyone shut up.

‘Are you subjects of the Basilieus in Epipelagia?’ she asked

They all shook their heads synchronously.

‘No’ announced their leader, ‘we are subjects of Queen Sophia and citizens of Skiophos, her realm’

‘Citizens of Skiophos – is that a thing?’ asked Bentley, despite her strict self-admonishment to try to keep quiet.

There was another buzz of conversation, but no-one attempted an answer. The naga stood with her hands on her hips, exasperated.

‘Can you help me get rid of the Basilieus’s troops, then?’

‘Yes, ma’am’ the leader barked without hesitation.

‘They’re in here’ indicated the naga.

‘And who are you?’ asked Angharad, as the troops made their way into the stack room.

‘I’m a Naga’ she said, ‘we guard the lost things that are not meant to be found’

After that, things progressed surprisingly slowly. Queen Sophia’s troops marched in and there was am extended stony stand-off between the Queen’s troops and the Emperor’s. There were about a dozen soldiers from the other place standing around the stairs leading into the extradimensional space. Neither side really knew what was going on and elves loathe fighting elves, so they stood there awkwardly saying nothing; one of the Helian elves even began to light up a pipe, banging it against the nearest wall to clean it.

The naga stepped forward.

 ‘Be gone’ she said, ‘you are not wanted here; this is my space’.  This was probably directed at everyone in general, but the overall feeling was that it was for the Helian’s in particular.  The out-world guards, more disciplined than Sophia’s troops, said nothing, but their hands twitched on the handles of their swords. Bentley hoped fervently that bloodshed could be avoided.

Nigel had had enough. He fished his ontological plunger out of his bag.

‘I have an extra-dimensional rent to plug; so you’d better stand aside’

Three times the size of the average elf, Nigel, an entirely gentle soul, looked quite terrifying with his large black plunger in his huge hands. The Helian’s struggled to escape; tumbling down the stairs en masse. Muffled shouts and exhortations came up from below the stairs.

Nigel took no notice. He tilted the suckered end of the plunger so that it sat on top of the hole, where the strange pentangle had been. He pressed a button on the side of the apparatus so that the disc of the sucker expanded slightly to form a seal over the hole. He put all of his weight on it.

‘All yours, Ang’ he said

Angharad began to chant in the old tongue. It sounded like an ancient song. Her chanting voice was far more musical than her speaking one.

‘Magecraft’ murmured the naga, swaying, with an almost serpentine sinuosity, to the hidden rhythm of the chant.

‘Whatever works’ said Nigel, ‘that’s our way’

The edges of the sucker began to glow with a hard bright light. Nigel clambered on to the plunger.

‘Oh no’ he said, ‘they’re pushing back below’

Even his considerable weight and strength weren’t enough to stop the seal from bowing in the middle, protruding upwards as he pushed down. They could still hear – as if far away -  the sounds of the soldiers below.

‘Leave it to us’ shouted the leader of Sophia’s soldiers. They jumped on to the seal one at a time, with admirable and unexpected discipline, After a minute or two of this the seal fell flat. Where the hole had been was now a flat black disc, with the long handle of the plunger sticking up. Nigel unscrewed the handle and held it, rather ruefully.

‘Fixed’ said Bentley, delighted.

‘But now we’ll have to buy another seal’ moaned Nigel

Angharad laughed.

‘I don’t think that will be a problem’ she said

Nigel shrugged and smiled.

‘Whatever you say, boss’

He took a step back and examined the seal. He nodded with satisfaction.

‘Good piece of work that, Ang’ he announced, ‘very nice’

‘Thank you; it really is isn’t it: one of my best’ responded Angharad without a trace of modesty.

She turned to face the snake elf. She stuck her hand out.

‘So you’re a naga, are you – I’m delighted to meet you’

Chapter seventy-one

The Radical Numerologists’ Headquarters

The door swung open easily, far too easily for such a large object. An exceptionally thin redheaded woman was waiting for her just a few steps in front of the door.

‘Thank you Thelma’ she said, nodding to the old watchwoman. She shut the door softly. She turned to Lily.

‘I’m Braith’

Lily stared wide eyed. The woman looked young enough to be one of her class mates.  Her answer was blurted out carelessly.

‘I’m Lily’

Lily did a double take.

‘I mean Molly…’

Braith frowned, sympathetically.

‘I know who you are, Princess’

For the first time in her life she hated that name. It felt wrong for her now, faced with someone who was so much more powerful than she. What did the title mean anyway? She hadn’t earned it.

‘Lily’ she mumbled, embarrassed, ‘just call me “Lily”’

Braith’s frown transformed with a minimum of movement into a flicker of a smile.

‘Lily’ she repeated.

Lily looked beyond Braith’s shape at the room. It was a well-lit dry cave. There were no torches, just a general glow. She was no longer in the house on Stanley Street.

‘This is our headquarters. You have just found one of the entrances to it’

‘Where are we?’ asked Lily

‘In the far west’ Braith answered in the western tongue. Lily shook her head.

‘I only know a very little Rhylic’

‘I know. You have just begun your studies at ECU’

A shiver of worry ran through Lily.

‘How did you know that?’ she asked

Braith laughed dryly,

‘Everyone has spies these days’

Lily felt glum.

‘I suppose that they do…’

She only just managed stop herself from saying – I just wish they wouldn’t spy on me.

‘Anyway’ said Braith, ‘I know all about you and the group you represent. I have been waiting for you to make contact’

What group do I represent?  wondered Lily to herself.

‘The Hybitor coven, you mean?’ she ventured, her voice almost too soft to be heard.

Braith looked mildly surprised, as if Lily had suddenly pulled out a bunch of flowers hidden in her sleeve

‘That is who sent you, isn’t it?’

Lily nodded vigorously.

‘Councillor Williams, sent me’

‘Covener Myfanwy Williams… She is known to us’

Lily was about to ask how? But Braith continued before she could interrupt.

‘You are all known to us’

‘Oh’ said Lily, dumbfounded.

Braith smiled at her. It was the sort of smile that a kind owner would give to a beloved pet dog.  Lily had never been subject to such a smile before. It made her melt and bristle in equal measure.

‘So, Lily, apprentice witch, why are you here?’

Lily’s heart leapt when she heard this title – so much better than being a princess!  It emboldened her.

‘I’ve come to find out who you are – and what you’re doing’

Braith thought about this for a minute or so and then she turned to walk away.

‘Let me show you,’ she said.

Braith led her down the cave until they reached a door. Beyond the door there were four rough-hewn stone passageways, branching out like the folds of a fan. She went down the second one, apparently choosing it at random.

They walked for a little while. The passageway sloped upwards until they came out into a large sunny conservatory. There was a hubbub of singing and musical instruments; in the centre of the room a couple were dancing. Sitting at the edges were   the musicians; two of them with fiddles and another was vamping on an accordion. Another figure sat over a book; she seemed to be memorising lines. They all wore Ethian peasant clothes, but entirely in grey. It was clearly a sort of uniform. They took no notice of the sudden intrusion at all.

‘Can they see us?’ asked Lily

Braith nodded, ‘if they choose to’

One of the fiddlers began playing; the notes skipped off his bow and the dancers took up the rhythm. It was an idyllic scene but there was something about it that made the hairs on the back of Lily’s neck stand proud. 

‘Who are they?’ she whispered.

‘They are our volunteers’ answered Braith

‘What have they volunteered for?’

‘A lifelong commitment to the commonweal’

That seemed awfully vague to Lily.

‘I meant – what for in particular, madam?’

Braith shook her head

‘I am not your teacher, Apprentice Lily’

Lily lowered her head in apology.

‘What do they do?’

‘I cannot tell you that. But I can tell you what my order does’

‘Yes, what do you do?’

‘We look for the nagas…’

‘What are they?’

Braith shook her head

‘If you do not know, then we cannot tell you’

‘What do the nagas things do?’ asked Lily

‘They are guardians: there were nine of them’

‘And you wish to destroy them or capture them?’

‘No, they are redundant; their power is faded; they are not important to us’

‘Why do you seek them at all, then?’

‘We need to find what they guard’

‘To protect it?’

Braith shook her head sadly

‘No – not that at all’

‘But, why then?’

‘If you do not know, then we cannot tell you’

‘Do you know where any of them are?’

‘Yes, we do’

‘How do you know?’

‘Some are obvious, some are known to have been destroyed; one was revealed by an unexpected emanation’

‘An unexpected emanation, what’s that?’

‘An entrance that was not a breach and by a being of great power’

‘You talk in riddles…’

‘No, I do not. What I say is entirely clear. I would never knowingly mislead – it is not my way… let me show you’

She walked over to the woman hunched over her book. She still didn’t seem to have seen them. Lily glanced down at the book – it held the words for a song. She just caught the first line …There’s a shadow beneath the sea… before Braith spoke again.

‘This is Sian, she is preparing for a role; a vital role, but one that we hope will be long delayed if not, in the end, unnecessary’

‘What role?’ asked Lily

‘She will become a Prime’ whispered Braith. Lily had no idea what that was but it was clearly something both important and, perhaps, a bit creepy.

Sian shook her head. Her eyes focused on them, but she showed no hint of surprise.

‘And it will be soon. I sense it…’

Braith looked startled. This was the first time that Lily had seen her anything but entirely cool.

‘Is the naga gone?’ she asked

The woman shook her head.

‘Not yet – but I feel our enemy approaching’

‘Who is your enemy?’ blurted out Lily

‘The Archwitch Bea – she is trying to destroy the guardians and the…’

‘Say no more, Sian’; ordered Braith, but Lily carried on questioning, anyway.

‘Is she like the other Archwitch, Kratos? I have encountered him’

‘How is that possible, girl?’ asked Braith

Lily smiled the smile of someone who has just learned how to use a knight effectively in chess.

‘If you do not already know, then I cannot tell you’

Braith glared at her for a split second and then the moment passed.

‘We know little of Archwitch Kratos, but, yes, he is a similar being to our enemy and I believe that they help each other’

Sian ignored all of this.

‘I am preparing to go’ she murmured.

‘Go where?’ asked Lily

‘To  Karyodendron’

‘Ortia’ whispered Braith; it may be that no-one was meant to hear it.

‘Auntie M’ blurted out Lily, ‘that’s her city’

Both Sian and Braith looked at her.

‘You know someone who lives in Ortia?’ Braith asked

‘Vaguely’ lied Lily, fear and caution allying inside her.

‘It will be safe’ asserted Sian, blandly

‘How can you be so sure?’ asked Lily.

Braith took Sian’s hand. It seemed to Lily strangely incorporeal, almost translucent.

‘Yes, how can you be so sure?’

‘The plan is set; the way is clear; all will be well, all will be well and all manner of things will be well’

‘Is Ortia safe? Are the people who live in the city in danger?’ asked Lily

Sian shrugged.

‘I have no idea; they are not my concern…’

Fear surged through Lily. What if this woman succeeded but at the cost of Marthian’s, and all her citizens’, lives? What use would that be? She forced herself to speak.

‘The coven can help you – I’m sure. They will fight the Archwitch and save the city’

Sian shook her head but Braith looked concerned.

‘It is so soon after the last one, Sian. Perhaps we should ask the coven to help us? If only to buy some time’

‘It is fate’ murmured Sian, ‘there is no going back’

‘I just need some mail paper’ insisted Lily, jumping up and down, worrying that she would be treated like a child. She would not be ignored, not now.

 ‘Who will you write to?’ asked Braith

Lily didn’t hesitate

‘To President Ismay. He’ll know what to do’

Braith hesitated no longer. She went to a drawer in a desk at the far end of the conservatory, opened it, and pulled out from it a greyish sheet of paper. She beckoned to Lily and once Lily was at the desk she pointed to a pot of ink and a quill sticking up from inside it.

‘Go on, then’ she said, ‘let’s see what this famous coven can do…’ 

Chapter seventy-two

The Mage Agora

The second mail paper was a shock. He recognised the handwriting immediately.

Dear John – I write in haste but it’s really important. I have good reason (that I can’t explain to you in a mail paper) to believe that the naga, and whatever it guards,  in Ortia is threatened by a deadly foe. Please help if you can.  Lily.

The last letter he had received from Lily had been full of undergraduate studies and awkward parties. This was a complete shock.  He hadn’t even known that there was a guardian in Ortia, although he was not surprised. John looked up. Everything in the room seemed to have shrunk. 

‘Time to get out of here’ he announced, mostly to himself.

George, who had been able to read the mail paper well enough over John’s shoulder, nodded at him.

‘Yes – but how?’ he asked.

John smiled. He got up from the floating table.

‘Leave that to me’

John stood up and bellowed across the room. He knew that nothing annoyed mages more than shouting.

‘I need to speak to Queen Sophia – now!’

The mages sighed and out their fingers up to their mouths simultaneously, as if on cue. John had already decided on exactly what he was going to do. He shouted, much more loudly. This  was exactly the sort of behaviour that mages abhorred. 

‘Get me Queen Sophia – I want her NOW!’

‘Shush’ went the three mages, there were mutterings of ‘quiet, ‘can we have some decorum please’, and ‘totally unacceptable behaviour’ but that made no difference to John. He just got louder. One of the mages rushed out if the room, muttering to himself.

‘Queen Sophia – where are you?’ continued John

She appeared from behind the curtain that covered the far wall. She was dressed in a less formal toga, it was apricot rather than purple, but just as loose fitting. John shivered momentarily, he had no desire to face a panther.

‘I’m here’

Huw was beside her; looking more confident now, wearing an almost identical brown toga. He was short and dark like many Rhylish humans – he looked uncannily elvish in his Helian get up.

‘I want to leave’ announced John.

Sophia looked at him in astonishment.

‘But I ordered you to stay’

John’s heart sank – self-crowned elven monarchs were always the hardest people to deal with.

‘I’m not your subject’ he suggested, softly

Sophia smiled a gentle, extremely regal, smile.

‘That’s not how ruling works, you know’ she purred, ‘Queens decide on subjects, not the other way around…’

John frowned

‘Then I’m rebelling’

Sophia shook her head very crossly.

‘No, you can’t do that. You’re almost my most prestigious liegeman; I can’t have you starting a rebellion…’

John sighed; this was going to tie him up into logical knots.

‘Then give me permission to go…’

‘But you haven’t reached an agreement…’

‘I’ll stay’ said George, who had sidled up beside them, ‘I’ll complete the agreement with the agora’

John looked and him and had to force himself not to shake his head vehemently. You’ll be here forever he thought.

No!’ commanded Sophia, her face darkening, ‘I don’t even know who you are…’

John almost teleported away, without permission, just to escape, but he took a deep breath instead.

‘This is George Blackthorne’

Sophia looked puzzled

‘George from Blackshorn? Where is that?’

‘No – I’m Councillor “Blackthorne”, it’s my family name…’

Sophia smiled.

‘Ah yes – named after a flower, just like the poorer elves do in Visneoria’

‘More a shrub than a flower’ muttered George.

John glared at him. He attempt to refocus the conversation.

‘George used to be president 0f the council…’

Sophia frowned, suspicious.

‘So – why isn’t he president now?’

‘I retired’ explained George, helpfully.

‘I see’ said Sophia, ‘so how long did you lead the coven?’

‘Seventeen year’ George said, proudly.

Sophia shrugged

‘That is no time at all; certainly not enough to do the job properly’

John could hear a clock ticking in his head. There wasn’t time for this.

‘It’s long enough… and I must go, regardless’

‘I forbid it’ announced the elf queen.

‘You have no power over me’ countered John.

‘I’m warning you not to provoke me’ she growled

She whispered something under her breath and the air around them seemed momentarily colder.  John could tell that a spell had been cast, but he had no idea what its effect might be. He put off teleporting away for the time being – just in case.  He shifted position so that they were facing each other directly. He intoned ‘accumulate’ and clutched his hand around the heavy ball of energy that the spell was forming.

Sophia glanced at him and then immediately shifted. Her olive skin transmogrified into deep black fur. 

They stood opposite each other – the leopard ready to pounce, the witch holding the sphere of force in his hand, ready to hurl it.

George stepped out between them. His care-lined face had gained a new set of creases.

‘Your Majesty’ he said, bowing low, ‘President Ismay is going to attend to a direct threat to your domains. An enemy of great strength approaches. Fear for your realm has blunted his manners’

The big cat waited.   

‘Have you heard of the Sipia spell, your highness?’ asked George

The panther’s eyes narrowed, she shook her beautiful, sleek, head.

‘It’s a necromantic spell, developed by evil witches, the ones who wish to destroy the world, our common enemies’

He paused for just a moment.

‘It drains the life energy out of a person and channels it into the spell caster. It is as unlike a mage spell as can be imagined, and for that reason I suspect that you and your fellow mages will have no defence against it’

The need to speak forced Sophia back into her elven form.

‘And you have some defence?’ she asked

‘Yes, we do’

‘And these witches; do you think that they would mean my subjects harm?’

‘Undoubtedly’

‘Then teach me the spell’

‘No said George, blandly.

‘What?’ Thundered Queen Sophia, ‘how dare you defy me’

George smiled sweetly.

‘Let President Ismay go, and then…  I’ll teach you’

Sophia looked for a moment as if she were about to shift back into leopard form: briefly her teeth appeared worryingly pointy, her skim oddly furry. She didn’t change. Instead she hissed at John.

‘Go then – if you must…’

John paused for a moment.

‘There’s something I need to know’ he said

‘What?’ snapped Sophia

‘Is that Huw’s baby?’ he asked, pointing to her bump

Huw smiled proudly..

‘Yes – it is’ he said

Sophia forced herself to change her demeanour and tone.

‘She’s a symbol…’

‘Of what?’ asked George, softly

‘Of the union between elves and humans. She will represent a new world’

Ruled by you and your heirs, I assume, thought John. George and he shared a glance. John sighed – more bloody problems. It was time to tackle the most immediate one. He fixed his mind on Hardacre’s trace

‘Amranta’ he said, and disappeared.