> I took the old defenses down from around the outpost this morning. Grandfather was against it, as we knew he would be, but even he had to admit that we hadn’t had visitors - friendly or otherwise - since he was a boy. Ve is still in shock. I don’t think he knew it was anything more than a pretty decoration on the wall. Thankfully the damage was not beyond what his asolan can address - his eyesight should return in a few days. We all know that only luck spared him worse, though. Better to keep the old tools of violence down and buried, safe from idle hands - and hopefully, never again needed for their purpose.
>
> - Unattributed fragment, early Aejha script on unknown material. Not handwritten. Royal archives, Ce Raedhil.
----------------------------------------
“Less windy today,” Mark said, shading his eyes as he peered out over the grasslands. The sun had advanced past the low, cloudy haze covering the northern reaches of Tinem Sjocel and now shone down on them from the trackless blue canopy that stretched over the Vidim Vai. Dappled green and brown grass caught the wind in rhythmic waves that broke against a blackened, scorched field beyond the wall - just as they had the day before, and the day before that.
The winds, however, were blowing the wrong way. The constant westward winds had reversed themselves days ago, steadily carrying their enemy closer. The shift in direction seemed to unnerve the Sjocelym more than anything else in the increasingly-tense border city, as it was simply a fact of life for them that winds blew from the coast to the mountains.
Mark sighed, squinting into the breeze. “I know I shouldn’t say it, but I wish she’d just hurry up and get here.”
“You might be bored, but they can use the time,” Jesse said. He pointed to the nearest of the wall’s squat towers with a flurry of red robes milling about its upper tier. Occasional glimpses of light shone through from a massive crystal pillar - one of the largest they had acquired from Idhytse, now fully charged.
“Come on,” Mark scoffed, gesturing out at the burnt grasses nearest the wall. “It obviously works, all they’re doing now is wasting power.”
Jesse shook his head. “They’re training,” he said. “This is new gear even for them, remember. The scriptsmiths had no way to transfer the bulk of their equipment up here until the gate was active.”
“I just hope the air stays a little clearer than it did last time,” Mark said. “The-” He cut off as a high whine issued from the tower, shielding his eyes with a muttered curse as Jesse did the same. A small lens on the parapet began to glow, and flecks of light shimmered in a thin line between it and the edge of the burned ground. A blinding streak of incandescence traced itself over the blackened soil as the lens pivoted, guided by a scriptsmith wearing bulky, dark goggles.
“See, that shit right there,” Mark grumbled. “It’s bad enough when it’s just sparking the bugs and dust on a clear day, but what happens in a dust storm? That beam isn’t all visible light, the backscatter could seriously fuck us up if it happens too close to the tower.” He shook his head and looked back at Jesse, who wore a surprised expression. “What?”
Jesse hesitated, then laughed. “Nothing,” he said. “I’m just wondering when you took the course on laser safety.”
“About five minutes after we brought Arjun through to help them out,” Mark said. “And then every five minutes after that on a loop. Let’s just say he wasn’t happy with their setup.” He sighed. “Not that he wasn’t justified in lecturing a bit. They’re keeping a lid on it, but there’s been a lot of red robes around the infirmary lately, and Sjogydhu was hinting that he’d like to borrow your asolan.”
Jesse winced. “I did notice that they all scrounged up some goggles suspiciously fast. I guess that was Arjun as well.” He opened his mouth to speak again before grimacing and turning aside as another tower unleashed a brilliant trace of light. It was farther than the first, but the lens at that position was a gargantuan, multifaceted array that drained an entire large crystal with each shot. The wind blew another cloud of sweet-smelling grass smoke toward them, and Jesse coughed.
“I’m more worried about that smoke than the dust, honestly,” Jesse said, walking to the side where the air was a bit clearer and pointing down at the base of the tower. “I think they’re putting together a counter for the dust down there.” In an alcove against the steep rear face stood the familiar shape of a draa je qaraivat, only this one had been fitted with a thick metal collar that sat snugly around the base.
Mark squinted at it through the haze. “They’re messing with the pillars?” he asked. “Is that smart?”
“Vumo asked us a few questions when we were in Ce Raedhil,” Jesse said. “We didn’t tell him much, but he seemed to immediately make some connections about why the draam je qaraivat work to repel not-Eryha’s influence. At Sjatel I was able to use one of them to create a clear bubble in the storm for a while, I figure he’s thinking along the same lines.”
Mark chewed thoughtfully on his lip, then shook his head. “I don’t like it,” he finally said. “We should really try to get together with him again and shake out some of the details. I don’t want to just assume that he’s got the right idea for something this important.”
Jesse looked out over the camp for a moment, then sighed and sat back down on the battlement. “How much are we willing to share?” he asked. “He’s sharp, Mark, he was practically finishing our sentences for us back in Ce Raedhil. This entire arrangement is predicated on Maja being essential to our defense, if he figures out we’re planning on moving against her - or worse, that it’s justified...”
“He won’t have any reason to keep his end of the bargain,” Mark agreed. “I know. Which is why we also have to keep him from finding out too much about what you and Jackie can do. If he decides to move on us first you two are going to be our trump cards.”
“Do you think we’re in a spot where we can hold back?” Jesse frowned. “If it’s a choice between keeping our secrets and letting Idran Saal be overrun we’ve got to show our hand.”
Mark grimaced, then nodded his head. “Yeah,” he said. “Although I don’t know how far I want to trust Sjocelym goodwill.” He grinned, straightening up. “I guess that’s a problem for after we don’t die.”
Jesse gave him a strained smile in return, looking out over the camp. “Yeah,” he muttered. “We’re collecting a lot of those.”
----------------------------------------
Idran Saal was always foggy at night. The invisible demarcation between the warmer, humid air of Tinem Sjocel and the arid chill of the grasslands beyond the wall became a shimmering haze where the two masses of air met, blurring the stars beyond and convecting a graceful swell of clouds downward to the city. Within an hour after sundown the mist began wading thickly between the buildings, pouring into open squares and guttering in alleyways.
Jesse had taken to watching the evening spectacle from the roof of their squat barracks, an ugly little plug of a building that sat just off the main plaza. Sjogydhu had set aside the entire structure for their use, although none of them assumed that made it secure against Sjocelym interlopers - it was merely a courtesy, a way to maintain that thin veneer of civility between their sides.
Tonight the fog had been slower in rolling in, and Jesse watched from his too-small chair as the white tide menaced the last free space in the central square, slow and inexorable.
“Depressingly relevant, isn’t it?” a voice said from behind him.
Jesse shot to his feet quickly enough to topple his chair, his hand darting to his sword by reflex. Bright lines snapped over the world, many of them centered on the cowled figure standing a respectful distance away from his seat on the roof. They were clad in an off-black that seemed to take the exact shade of the starlit roof, blending in and out of the thin haze. If not for the sparking tracery of light clinging to the figure in his eyes, Jesse would have been hard-pressed to focus on him.
Jesse relaxed, fractionally, straightening up without moving his hand from the hilt. “Cosvamo,” he said.
Cosvamo cocked his head, then drew back his cowl. “You recognize me that easily?” he asked. “Interesting.”
“I don’t know anyone else who dresses like that,” Jesse said. “What do you want? You said you’d wait until after the fight before trying to track me down.” He shifted his stance. “Has something changed?”
“I told you before - if I was here to kill you, I wouldn’t indulge in conversation,” Cosvamo said, spreading his hands and taking a seat on the chill stone of the rooftop. “Today, I’m just here to talk.”
Jesse raised an eyebrow and turned his chair to sit facing Cosvamo. “About?” he asked.
Cosvamo smiled at him. “I noticed that you took a lengthy detour on your way up from Idhytse,” he said. “You and your companion both.”
“We did,” Jesse said cautiously. “You were following us?”
“Curious that you wouldn’t simply use the gateways,” Cosvamo said, ignoring him. “You don’t seem stupid enough to place your trust in the Sjocelym, so I’m left to wonder what your reason was for allowing them to take you to Ce Raedhil.” His smile sharpened. “You never did answer my question, back in Idhytse.”
Jesse met his eyes, keeping his voice carefully level. “Oh?”
“Which sister?” Cosvamo asked silkily. “I took the trouble to retrace your steps. It wasn’t Dija. You arrived in Mosatel too late to speak with Tija.” He leaned forward slowly, never breaking eye contact. “But why would an Inscribed of Maja avoid her seat? Either she has become dangerous, or you always were. Which is it, I wonder?”
Jesse licked his lips, hearing the unwelcome pounding of his heart rise around him. Cosvamo was too close to the truth for his comfort, and he suddenly felt very exposed on the roof. “Maja may be compromised,” he said slowly.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Cosvamo snorted. “We’re aware,” he said. “The Sjocelym don’t have the means or inclination to perform proper maintenance on her. We haven’t pressed the matter because her function has yet to drop below a critical threshold, which we shouldn’t need to worry about for quite some time.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless someone has done something unspeakably, monumentally dumb. Something profoundly idiotic, the sort of thing they have to devote extra space to in historical texts to explain what the people involved were thinking.”
He raised the other eyebrow. “You didn’t do something like that, did you?”
“We, ah-” Jesse said, wishing fervently that anyone else were here. “Maybe we should get everyone from downstairs-” He began to rise from his chair, but froze as a flash of cold blue intruded on the periphery of his vision. Carefully, he looked down at his chest to see a steady blaze of light hovering in the center of his sternum. Wisps of fog curled up to flicker in the beam, but try as he might Jesse could not see its origin in the murky dark around them.
“Sit down,” Cosvamo said mildly. “This conversation will be between the two of us. I would like for it to be a civilized exchange. That said, if you make any sudden movements my associate will not hesitate to respond with force.”
Jesse remained still, moving just enough to look back up at Cosvamo. “You weren’t this confident last time,” he said.
“Last time,” Cosvamo replied, “I didn’t have the opportunity to prepare. Sit.”
Carefully, slowly, Jesse lowered himself back into his chair. The light followed his motions precisely, disappearing a few seconds after he sat. “Okay,” Jesse said, his knuckles white on his sword grip. “I’m sitting.”
“Excellent,” Cosvamo said genially. “Now, please answer the question.”
Jesse tried to get his thoughts in order, feeling the silent pressure of Cosvamo’s ally in the fog. “When we arrived at the Sanctum we only had Gusje’s access,” he said. “She’s a Cereinem, so-”
“Yes, yes,” Cosvamo said irritably. “Caretaker. Continue.”
“There were guards from Draatyn Asidram living in the Sanctum,” Jesse said. “They attacked us and lost, but we knew it was only a matter of time before the rest came looking. So we asked Maja for help. She told us a way to get increased access.”
Cosvamo frowned. “That’s not possible,” he said. “You can’t just elevate a base Caretaker role like that.”
“We didn’t,” Jesse said, licking his lips again. “We went to Mosatel and scanned the walls there. We found the script defining Tija’s region in the ruins.” He left it at that - there was no reason to share the rest of their adventures in Mosatel unprompted. In their previous encounter Cosvamo had not mentioned Jackie at all, so Jesse was content to let Cosvamo focus entirely on him.
“The regional identifier?” Cosvamo muttered. “What of it?”
“We scripted it on the wall of her control room,” Jesse said. “The remnants of the Aesvain are with us - and I am their duly elected leader.”
“You’re-” Cosvamo’s eyes bulged. “You used the administrative override?”
Jesse nodded, too on edge to enjoy the genuine shock on the Setelym’s face. “So that we could defend ourselves from the soldiers, yes.”
“You, the Inscribed, also hold administrative authority,” Cosvamo breathed, clenching his hands into fists. “You idiot. You-”
He squinted at Jesse, stopping short. “She never would have let you go,” he said, his voice calmer but still unsteady. “You’re not hers. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“What?” Jesse asked, off-balance.
“If you were an Inscribed of Maja,” Cosvamo said quietly, “and you had access to her core functions, you would be embedded in the stone of her Sanctum rather than walking free. She would wring her freedom from you until you were nothing more than a gibbering husk.” He shook his head. “But here you are. Alive, free, and not hers. So that brings us back to the original question - which sister?”
“We, uh,” Jesse said, his mind blanking. “It’s kind of complicated-”
Cosvamo raised a finger, and the dot of light reappeared on Jesse’s chest. “Which. Sister?”
“It’s not that simple!” he objected.
“If the next word out of your mouth is not the name of the vinesavai who marked you,” Cosvamo said, “it will be the last word you ever speak.”
Jesse’s eyes flicked down to the splash of blue hovering against his chest, then back up to Cosvamo.
“Eryha,” he said.
“She’s dead,” Cosvamo said, a barely-controlled tremor in his voice. “A mindless remnant bound to corpses. Don’t lie to me.”
“That’s not her,” Jesse insisted. “That thing marching toward us tried to kill her, and she escaped. She’s been hiding ever since.”
“Let’s say I believe this nonsense,” Cosvamo spat. “It makes your death more essential than ever. Give me one reason why you should live.”
Jesse tensed up, feeling the light hovering steadily over his heart. “We can stop her,” he said.
Cosvamo cocked his head to the side. “Can you?” he asked. “I wonder.” He smiled - and lowered his finger to point directly at Jesse.
Jes slammed into his mind with enough power to shimmer the fringe of his vision as time slowed around him. Jesse’s sword arm came up with dreamlike languor, moving slowly but so, so fast-
A sharp crack sounded and Jesse staggered back. He held his sword tightly across his chest, and the spot of light from his assailant was lost against a burst of radiance. Something had slammed into the center of his blade, hard enough that the transferred impact momentarily winded him. Smoke trailed from the sword as he recovered and darted forward - towards Cosvamo, who was still smiling, unconcerned. Jesse’s charge came up short, and for a moment he simply looked at the other man.
“Interesting,” Cosvamo said lazily, all of the tension gone from his voice. The air of barely-contained panic he had displayed just prior to the shot had vanished. “Go on, take your seat. I told you I wasn’t here to kill you.”
The adrenaline in Jesse’s veins was still howling from the attack, and it was a struggle to keep his voice level when he replied. “A test?” he asked. “Why?”
“Your story about Eryha is unbelievable,” Cosvamo said. “I would sooner doubt my assessment of you as an Inscribed - so I checked.”
“And now?” Jesse growled.
“I’m considering the notion that you’re telling the truth,” Cosvamo said. “Your abilities are certainly not ordinary - and neither is that sword. Where did it come from?”
“The last time I answered one of your questions you tried to have me shot,” Jesse said. “What’s my incentive to play along?”
“Perhaps that I might decide I don’t have to kill you after all,” Cosvamo replied. “Which would be in both of our best interests.” Jesse’s hand tightened on the grip of his sword, and Cosvamo raised his eyebrow. “Or you could just try and kill me right here, and we’ll see how that goes.”
Jesse didn’t move for several seconds, considering - then exhaled slowly and sheathed his blade. He turned to walk back to his chair, managing not to freeze when he saw the ten identical points of blue light that had been trained on his back. They flicked off once he had seen them, having successfully delivered their message - but he felt each one as he walked carefully back to the chair.
Jesse sat. To Cosvamo’s credit, his smile was no more smug than before.
----------------------------------------
“And then he just left?” Arjun asked, frowning. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bare wood of the barracks dining table, too intent on Jesse’s story to mind the splinters. Outside, the usual rush of soldiers, porters and scriptsmiths rumbled softly with footsteps and conversation.
Jesse nodded, rubbing his eyes. “Asked a few more questions and vanished like he did the last time,” he said. “I heard some odd noises from overhead, afterward. I think his backup might have had a vehicle up on the cliff.”
“With their scriptwork sniper rifles,” Mark muttered. “Jesus fuck. Like we needed anything else on our plate right now.” He coughed, scowling in the direction of the border wall. The grass fires had become a constant presence as the scriptsmiths ramped up their training regimen. “What did he ask you?”
“Stuff about me,” Jesse said. “About Eryha and the impostor. He didn’t press for details about the sword past asking where I got it, I just told him it was from the vault at Ce Raedhil and didn’t know much about it.” He turned to look at Jackie. “Nothing about you, they must not have been following us closely enough to see the fight near Sjan Saal.”
Jackie grimaced, then nodded and forced a smile. “That’s something,” she said. “What do you think he wants? Did he say?”
Jesse shook his head, yawning. “No, nothing specific,” he said. “But he seemed worried - about Maja more than anything. I think he was actually relieved to hear I was Eryha’s asaarim rather than hers.”
“Hm,” Arjun said, rubbing his chin. “It’s telling that the Setelym are willing to leave the invaders to regional forces but are involving themselves where Maja is concerned.” He smiled, but it was a strained expression. “We could use their help. The scriptsmiths have come up with an impressive number of last-minute innovations, but…”
They exchanged glances, grim-faced. The Sjocelym hadn’t seen the storm like they had, felt the explosive reports of the thunderbolts amid the scouring grit. They had never stood in the blood-red dark as the light faded, hearing thousands of lifeless bodies crowd around them.
“Ultimately,” Arjun said, “the Setelym are outside of our control.” He took a long drink from his water cup, then stood up. “I’m going to head back to the scriptsmiths’ command area, we’ve got some work left with the big lenses on Tower Four.”
The others watched him walk away. “He’s really into those lenses,” Mark observed. “I mean, they are pretty neat.”
“He wants to help,” Jackie said. “Hell, I want to help, but I’m not a crazy old man who apparently reads textbooks on optics in his free time.” She looked out the narrow window towards the street. “I can’t even practice without kicking off a fight between Vumo and Cosvamo for who gets to abduct me to study my haunted fucking hands.”
Mark and Jesse exchanged a look. “It’s better to stay under the radar,” Jesse said. “Not great, but better. Trust me when I say it’s not fun being in their crosshairs.”
“I know,” Jackie sighed, scowling at them. “Stop reminding me that I’m being unreasonable and just let me be annoyed.” She pushed back her chair and stood up. “I’m going to hang out with Arjun today, maybe I can find something to keep busy on. What about you guys?”
“Going to try and track down Vumo, or Sjogydhu if that doesn’t work out,” Mark said. “Vumo’s been hard to find ever since we came here. It figures the one time we actually want to talk to the guy he vanishes.” He sighed and stood, stretching as Jesse rose to his feet. “Going to try and hammer out some contingencies I hope we’re not going to need, maybe talk about where Jesse and I can give some fire support.”
Jackie nodded and left to find Arjun, grabbing a small sack of hard bread on the way out.
Mark looked at Jesse. “So, how you doing?”
“Tired,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “Didn’t get to sleep after Cosvamo left.”
“After a relaxing time blocking magical sniper bullets with your sword, yeah,” Mark laughed. “Holy shit, dude, I wish I could have seen that.”
“I’m fine if it never comes up again,” Jesse said, rotating his shoulder with a grimace. “The asolan took the edge off but I’ve got a sword-shaped bruise on my rib cage and my arm is not happy about how fast I was moving it.”
Mark shrugged. “Beats a hole in the chest.” He clapped Jesse on his uninjured shoulder and started putting a few portable food items in his bag. “Come on, I want to try to catch Vumo before-”
He broke off as a pure, full tone resonated from the direction of the gatehouse, high-pitched and strident. It wailed for a few seconds before fading, then started up once more.
“An alarm?” Mark said. “They can’t be here already, can they?”
Jesse shrugged, quickly grabbing his pack and pistol. “Maybe they spotted the Setelym?” he said. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound minor.”
The two men jogged toward the wall, finding only a milling press of soldiers and staff that seemed to know even less about the alarm than they did. The base of the wall was already choked with dust from the passage of so many boots, and they quickly gave up on asking for a report. It wasn’t until they ascended the narrow stairs to the rampart that they saw the cause.
The horizon was dark with a thick line of stormclouds that bunched and roiled amid flickers of orange lightning. The wind seemed to pull at the clouds as they watched. A slow advance, tinged with a frantic energy - directly towards them.
Mark stepped forward to look at the approaching stormfront, then licked his lips. “So,” he said. “Remember that conversation we had yesterday, when we were on the wall? The one where I was complaining about how long it was taking her to show up?” Mark shot a plaintive look at Jesse. “Jackie can never find out.”
“You mean, don’t tell her that you did the thing you’re constantly telling her not to do, with predictable results?” Jesse managed a wan smile as he looked at the darkened horizon. “I won’t say a thing.”