Chapter Seventeen
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Mira
We arrived in Blackstone at dawn, a small port used to ship obsidian to the rest of the empire. It was located on the south-western side of the continent, but rather than looking east towards Ravalia, I faced the hot, stinging wind from the Western Lands, imagining the rolling dunes of the Sanguine Desert.
I had liked Zigilia – the dry heat, the colourful people, the vibrancy of the culture. Surely it made more sense to hide there, where we could blend in amongst the crowds. Or, if not Zigilia, somewhere more remote. I had always wanted to meet the shamanic tribes of Etheria, or the seafaring men and women who hailed from the island kingdom of Maesteri.
I glanced back at my mother, intending to say as much, when I noticed her hand resting on her dagger.
‘Are they dangerous?’ I asked, searching the dark expanse for signs of life. ‘The stone people, I mean?’
‘Don’t call them that,’ Celeste said sharply. ‘They don’t like it. It’s a Ravalian term.’
The chastisement stung. Everyone called them that; most people, including me, had forgotten they were ever known as Lapians.
As the sky finally began to lighten, I was able to make out more detail. The buildings were crafted from obsidian; they extended into the distance, continuing towards the shadowed shapes of slumbering volcanoes.
‘I thought the stone people – I mean, the Lapians,’ I corrected, ‘lived underground.’
‘They did,’ Celeste replied without looking at me. She was walking quickly, like she wanted to put as much distance between us and Blackstone as possible. ‘Before the invasion, they lived in volcanic caves as part of their culture. Then the emperor instructed them to create Blackstone, and now they spend their lives breaking those same caves apart.’
I felt an uncomfortable pang at her words. I’d known, of course, that the empire was expanding – but that had never seemed like a bad thing to me. Even when I’d seen temples dedicated to the Sorceress torn down in the Western Lands, huge, pillared buildings with windows of coloured glass, I had dismissed it as the price of progress.
But I found myself frowning as I studied the mining settlement around me. The Lapians were undeniably skilled, and Ravalia needed the resources they provided. Still, it was their sacrifice that made all this possible. It should be their choice to make.
For hours, we trudged along the quiet road that followed the coast. It was evenly paved and well-maintained, built by conquering Ravalian soldiers to allow easier access to the West – and avoid the Archasian mountains, which ran like a spine down the middle of the continent, from the frigid North to the hot South.
‘Are we close?’ I asked, raising a hand to shield my face from the fierce sun. Our surroundings had changed into lush farmland, interspersed with small fishing villages.
‘We’re nearly at Delistre.’ Though Celeste held herself tall, fatigue was obvious in her voice. ‘From there, we can take a coach straight to the capital.’
Her words filled me with sudden fear. The closer we came to Ravalia, the closer we came to disaster. To a mad, insane flight to Kalure—
To a desperate gamble that might cost us our lives.
Delistre was a bustling city, filled with life and noise. But it was nothing – absolutely nothing – compared to the Ravalian capital of Ravalis. When the coach cleared the hill between the mountains and ocean, it came into view: an immense, sloping city continuing all the way to the Azure Sea. The Ravalian palace perched over it like a bone-white spectre, its turrets gleaming blood-red in the morning light. It was encircled by acres of manicured gardens and dense forest, where the emperor and his nobles were known to hunt. Reflective white walls barred the palace from the rest of the city, decorated with lion motifs. In the middle of those walls, I caught a glimpse of imposing iron gates.
Outside those gates were the Higher Districts, famed for their markets, open-air gymnasia, communal baths and theatres. The buildings were all remnants of the conquered city of Aqualia and well-maintained, except for the temple, which was little more than a ruin. I wondered what kinds of gods the Aqualians had worshipped, and if anyone still remembered their names.
The Imperial Road travelled from the Crimson Palace down to the docks, cleaving the city into two halves. The arena loomed in the middle, a huge, dark structure made entirely of obsidian. My blood quickened just looking at it, though there was no chance of me competing in the Trials now.
Soon enough, Aric would be seeing the same view. It hurt to think of him competing without me, our lives wrenched unceremoniously apart.
Stepping out of the coach, I stared at everything: the ornate buildings and bustling streets, the ivory-coloured procession of carriages. Then I noticed the soldiers. They were everywhere, dressed in the same golden armour as the retinue that had visited Aldara, their cloaks matching the turrets of the palace.
Above me, crimson Ravalian banners hung from balconies. A roaring golden lion dominated the top of each banner, with the three Order symbols arranged in a triangular pattern below: a gleaming sword, an ornate black mask and a palm with an eye gazing out of its centre.
No one took any notice of us as we walked; the crowds were thick, filled with people from all corners of the empire, and I started to relax. Surely the heart of Ravalia was the last place Zandri would look for us.
But Celeste’s strained face held none of my confidence. Her gaze was focused ahead, to where a handful of soldiers were blocking the route to the docks and checking identification.
We doubled back before they could see us, and I shot my mother a worried glance. What were we going to do now ?
‘I need to find a friend of mine,’ Celeste said quietly. ‘He may have a way of getting across the Tempest Sea.’
I started forward, eager to discover one more piece of her past. ‘Let’s go.’
‘No.’ Celeste grasped my arm. ‘If the soldiers have been warned, they will be looking for two people – a mother and daughter. Stay here, and get us a room if I’m not back before sunset.’ She motioned toward an inn with a carving of antlers above the door. ‘I’ll meet you when I can.’
I opened my mouth to protest, but my mother was already gone.
I threw myself into the crowd after her, dodging stalls and people. The mass of bodies blocked my view, and when I next caught sight of my mother, she had reached one of the ivory-lacquered carriages.
Waving down another, I ignored the driver’s strange expression when I asked him to follow. I overpaid by at least two coppers, hoping to buy his silence as well. Even with the additional fee, he seemed glad to be rid of me when I disembarked behind Celeste’s empty carriage.
It was much quieter here, at the lower end of the Imperial Road. There was no sign of the colourful crowds from earlier, and if there were soldiers, I had yet to spot them. The few people I saw were grimmer, harder, their stares menacing.
When I reached a small square, I knew I was in trouble. Celeste was nowhere in sight, and the last thing I wanted was to look unsure in a place like this. Already, I’d attracted the attention of two people loitering nearby, and neither looked friendly.
One of them, a girl wearing a threadbare dark cloak and a disdainful smile, approached. ‘Are you lost? Maybe we can help.’
A boy, probably her brother, sidled up to me until I was pinned in at both sides. He brushed against me, and I grabbed his arm – a second before he could snatch my purse.
‘Not so fast,’ I said, my grip tightening until he winced. He looked even younger up close, and I abruptly released him. He stumbled back a few steps, rubbing his wrist.
The girl was no longer smiling.
‘Go and bother someone else,’ I told her, my hand dropping threateningly to the blade on my hip.
But as she glared at me, I tossed a copper to the boy. He caught it reflexively and darted off without a word of thanks, perhaps afraid I’d change my mind.
I followed the only alleyway out of the square, pausing when I noticed a tavern up ahead. I stole a glance inside; it was busy, packed with customers. The kind of place I could find answers, if I dared.
The door opened silently, on well-oiled hinges. I squinted through the smoky air; no one was looking in my direction. They were more interested in drinking their ale, making outrageous jokes, or throwing—
Knives?
For an instant, it was like being back at the circus. I watched as a handsome, one-armed man pulled a long blade from his belt. A woman nearby gasped, but he merely flashed her a smirk and released the knife. It hurtled through the air with impressive speed, hitting the board with a heavy thunk . His accuracy was uncanny; he couldn’t have glanced at the target for more than a second, and yet it had still sunk into the smallest circle.
‘Show-off,’ one of his companions shouted good-naturedly, before returning to guzzling his ale.
The dark-haired man merely grinned, and someone else moved up to take his place.
‘A little young for this place, aren’t you?’ I turned to see a brunette woman looking me over curiously.
‘I’m trying to find someone. About my height, long auburn hair—’
The brunette held up a hand. ‘Honey, the Lower Districts are a big place.’ When I opened my mouth to plead my case, the woman sighed. ‘Let me give you some advice. The people here aren’t exactly the helping sort, and someone like you . . .’ her eyes raked over me once more, ‘stands out in a crowd. You’d best get going, before you catch the attention of someone you shouldn’t.’
‘I’m not leaving without answers.’
The woman laughed, but it sounded unkind. ‘Have it your way.’ She pointed towards the crowded bar. ‘Ask for Wyatt. He’s the one you’re after.’ Before I could thank her, she was gone.
I almost lost my nerve when I reached the bar. It reminded me of the small, dingy places the male islanders used to frequent back on Aldara. Places I’d never been welcome.
It was even worse when I claimed an empty bar stool and asked, ‘Which of you is Wyatt?’
The chatter died instantly. A large, heavily built bartender turned in my direction.
‘I need some information,’ I said cautiously, ‘and was told you could help.’
‘That depends.’ When I didn’t say anything, he fixed me with a scowl. ‘I assume you didn’t come here empty-handed.’
I hesitated, then held out the few coins I had left. They rolled invitingly in my open palm.
He drank them in greedily as I continued, ‘I’m trying to find someone. My mother. She came this way about half an hour ago; she said she was looking for a friend of hers. Someone who had connections down at the docks.’
The bartender displayed yellowed teeth as he smiled and snatched the coins. ‘No one goes lookin’ for our sort, sweetness. And the emperor’s Warriors pay very well to capture fugitives.’ His bloodshot eyes fixed on mine. ‘Very well indeed.’
I nodded to the coins, refusing to be cowed. ‘That’s all I have.’
He didn’t look impressed. ‘If that’s all you’ve got, then that’s all I’m sayin’.’
‘But—’
Wyatt nodded at a burly man to my right, who seized my arm in an iron grip.
‘Never had much patience for whiny kids,’ the bartender said. ‘I think I’ll give you over to the soldiers myself.’
I struggled, but my captor held firm. All I could think about was my mother, and how she was going to feel when she returned to that inn only to discover I was missing. Was what I’d said to Wyatt enough to get Celeste caught and imprisoned – or worse?
Almost by accident, my eyes locked with the man I’d been watching earlier: the one-armed man who had thrown the knife. He was watching me, too. After a moment, he took a step forward.
‘Not so fast,’ he said, holding up his hand. There was power even in that simple gesture, as if he was used to being obeyed.
‘This isn’t your concern, Darius,’ the bartender growled.
‘Maybe I’m making it my concern,’ Darius replied with an amused flash of white teeth.
‘Think of the profits! The girl—’
‘I thought I was clear,’ Darius interrupted. ‘No turning anyone over to the emperor’s justice, regardless of the reward.’
‘She’s not one of us,’ Wyatt continued angrily. ‘I’m not about to risk my life by sheltering her here. Are you?’
‘I haven’t decided that yet. But I’d like to speak to her before I make any permanent decisions.’ Darius eyed the bartender. ‘Unless you’d rather challenge me for that right?’
Wyatt looked as if that was exactly what he wanted to do, but he said nothing. The man holding me reluctantly released my arm.
Darius didn’t seem bothered by the hostile stares levelled in his direction. ‘Come on, darlin’,’ he told me. ‘I know somewhere we can talk safely.’
I didn’t move. He might have helped me, but if he thought I was naive enough to trust him—
Darius glanced back over his shoulder. A taunting smile curved his mouth. ‘Unless you’d rather stay, of course. They did agree to behave, but . . .’ He shrugged. ‘How much is a promise from a criminal really worth?’