3 Bones and Ashes

THREADFIN TODDER STEPPED amidst the devastation, his viralic magic forming a long-feathered cloak to hide all but his head.

‘Make a statement,’ his sister had suggested. ‘Let them know who you are. The time for hiding is past.’

Letting them see his face with its scaly green-tinged skin, horns poking out of his jaw and forehead, well, it all made a statement, didn’t it? His cloak flicked at the air as though alive. This was the Icarthian capital and all knew who he was unless they’d just left a hole they’d been living in. Sounded like one of his old girlfriends.

Most breathers who crossed his path did a double-take and found they needed to be elsewhere. It didn’t bother him. At least they weren’t all out for his head. Although, after this morning’s events, that might change.

All about him lay blackened stone, bone, and smouldering embers with pieces of metal, and some charred wood for variety. A third of the wealthy Pleth Quarter gone, and a small section of the Imperial Quarter along with it. Within the damaged city port there were several burning ships. Grief-stricken cries filled the dawn echoing the raucous calls of gulls as survivors floundered amid the wreckage.

Screams and wails of anguish as people realised what, or who, they had lost. Threadfin couldn’t help but notice the odd glare in his direction. Well, of course, blame the undead mage for everything.

Sind kept pace to his right, the soldier with a grip on her bronze sword’s hilt. A captain now and she deserved it. A good soldier, although she was less talkative these days. Since Tope’s death she rarely spoke. His sister was desperate to rebuild the legions, but at least in Sind she had found a good officer.

Unfortunately, this latest catastrophe was personal for the greencloak. It had been her task to watch the girl, and a glance at the soldier’s face told him she wasn’t taking this well. The viral mage said nothing, knowing there were no words to cut through a guilt like that. No words he knew of.

Ahead he spotted two breathers, one in a grey cloak kneeling amid the detritus, poking at something with a knife. Podral Pole rose as he approached.

The imperial marshal stood to one side, watching with a grim expression. When Threadfin was near enough, Scatter reached out to touch his arm with what he took for compassion. Not me who needs it, he thought.

The former Aidari spoke in low tones as though wary of eavesdroppers. Out in the open as they were, Threadfin didn’t see the need.

‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘I did not foresee this. I knew trouble was coming, but this ...’ She ran a hand over her face as she turned, likely for the hundredth time surveying the damage as though seeing it anew.

‘Hardly your fault, Scats,’ he said. ‘You can’t foresee everything, and not as if anyone else saw it coming. I didn’t and I’m a mage.’

‘I saw her in the middle of it all. Threadfin, there can be no doubt. She is responsible for this.’

The mage turned from the birthing argument. ‘We don’t know anything yet. Let’s not jump to conclusions, at least until I’ve had a chance to talk to her.’

Scatter’s silence was so loud, his head rang. Aiyana did warn me, though, he thought. She saw it coming and I refused to listen. How many dead? No, I don’t dare ask because I’m a coward as usual. Undead guardians of the living. Hah, what a joke. How many had perished because of his decisions or lack thereof? His anguish deepened. How do I fix this? He turned back to the marshal and met her eyes. ‘Where is she then?’

Pole gestured with the knife off to the right. ‘Heard someone mention she was over that way. They thought they’d seen a ghost. I thought it best to wait for you.’ He looked at the mage and scowled. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going anywhere near her. This has magic writ all over it. Not my area, remember?’

Turning to follow the mage, Scatter paused to pat the Darken’s shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it, Podral. You are well within the blast zone if she loses control again. I doubt you’d feel a thing.’

Pole stared about him, uttering several curses under his breath, as though looking to escape.

Another day, Threadfin would’ve delighted in his friend’s misery. Not this morning. Not with a young girl he’d sworn to protect at the heart of it all.

As they approached what he guessed was the centre of destruction, Scatter caught up to him. He gestured at a smoking ruin. ‘In there?’

The imperial marshal nodded, face grim.

What the building was a few hours earlier, he couldn’t tell. He recognised nothing in this wasteland. The distant buildings on all sides, denoting the rest of the untouched quarter was a juxtaposition he found disquieting. She could have wiped out the entire city, he thought with a shudder. He wondered what had stopped her.

Then his eye caught movement within the building’s remains. He was about to rush in, when Scatter’s grabbed his arm, this time with force. ‘Be careful,’ she warned. ‘You have not seen what she’s become. Her magic is unstable.’

‘Sort of stating the obvious,’ he muttered.

Sind had followed them, but remained far enough away not to overhear. There was no one else, though shouts and voices echoed in the distance.

‘Keep Sind distracted for me,’ said Threadfin, ‘at least until I can assess the situation. We don’t need to add more tension.’ Sind was competent, but her personality had darkened since Tope’s death and she had become attached to Astra, although the nature of the relationship eluded him. Apparently, they had come close to blows with one another more than once. Would she protect the girl, or try to kill her?

He shrugged off the Hatavan woman and stalked towards the ruin. Clutching a new silver crucifix at his neck for luck, he drew on his viralic reserves, deflating the pink blisters on his body. He let his magic-wrought cloak erupt into wings as he sent feelers ahead. They came up against something impenetrable and recoiled.

It was her alright.

And, in a way, it wasn’t. At least, not as she had been when they’d first met. Threadfin didn’t like or believe in contradictions, but Astra was one.

He let his magic dissipate not wanting to startle her. The lives of those around him hung in the balance, but what was new? He had no idea what had set her off this time. That it had been her fault was not in dispute, although he prayed for some reasonable explanation. It would need to be a bloody good one.

He found her sitting on what had been a tiled floor, her back against the few remaining stones of a wall. He realised with a start that this had been the imperial conclave. He recognised small details, the odd mosaic tile, or the fragment of a statue.

Astra was fiddling with something. She was wearing a white knee-length tunic, without a single stain despite the level of post-destruction waste around her. Nor was there a golden hair out of place on her head. ‘I knew you would come,’ she said in a soft voice.

Threadfin halted mid-step, uncertain. She looked different, older. When he’d found her a few months earlier, she’d been nine years old, perhaps ten. Now, this girl before him was closer to fifteen. ‘You’ve being having an interesting morning I see.’

‘You always come. It’s why I like you. You don’t forget me. Not like the others. They try not to see me, to pretend I don’t exist.’

‘I can empathise.’

‘They fear me.’

‘They’ve got reason to. Did you get angry because someone ignored you? A little over the top, don’t you think?’

‘I don’t like your sister. You told me she was nice. She’s not. She fears me the most.’

‘So, you destroy half the city? She took you in, gave you rooms, food, servants, and a personal guard all your own.’

‘Because you asked her to. She’d do anything for you.’

‘Not the point I’m trying to make.’

‘I lost my temper,’ she blurted, as she turned her head to regard him, before getting to her feet. ‘It attacked me. I don’t like it when things attack me. I got angry, and a ... darkness filled me.’

‘Another gorgon?’ He’d thought all those accounted for unless they’d found a different way through. I knew there was an explanation, although it did not make him feel better. She’d obviously lost control.

‘Your sister baits me, and I don’t like it.’

‘Wait, what’s that got to do with something attacking you?’

‘Nothing.’

Threadfin swiped at his face, and winced at the discovery of another horn. This one stuck out of his lower lip. They were sharp and ugly and he’d begun to file a few. There was being undead, and there was sticking out as the ugliest undead bastard in existence. Stay focused, he thought. One problem at a time.

‘You’re not like her,’ she said in a conversational manner. ‘You’re different. The anger within you burns slower, goes deeper like a slumbering volcano. Like a slumbering beast. Like mine.’

Keep your focus, damn it. She always managed to distract him, to catch him off guard. She was talented at it. His thoughts then switched to Lorn Larthuz and her delicious taunts and the realisation of who and what Astra was. Lorn is a part of this child whether I like it or not. For the record, he didn’t like it.

‘Is what attacked you still here?’ he asked, as he forced his magic beyond its normal reach, searching for any threat. A gorgon might be lurking anywhere.

She didn’t answer, staring at her hands. At first, he thought she held a doll. It was a bundle of reeds in the shape of something. A chill crawled up his spine. It wasn’t a doll, but a Soul & Fury playing piece. The were others, all in the correct shapes too, remarkably well made. He recognised Sage, and Warrior, Nemesis, Legion and Shadow, and the one in her hand was Sorceress. She’d placed them on a shattered floor tile as though on a playing board, but they were all of Fury. No Soul pieces, the opposite side of the board empty.

He knew that since Cathya Shivar’s death, Aiyana had forbidden the game anywhere within the palace walls. It had been a favourite pastime of Cathya’s. Aiyana had not taught this girl about the game.

She tossed the playing piece in her hand away, and began walking around in her bare feet as though looking for something. She appeared unmindful of shattered tiles or burnt metal. ‘You don’t trust me, Threadfin Todder.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘I trust you, don’t I?’ She scowled at him. ‘You should trust me back.’

He hesitated, since she reminded him a little of Tezcat, which was jarring. ‘After what you’ve just done? You wrecked half the city.’

‘A tenth.’

‘Look around you. Don’t you see the destruction, the death you’ve caused?’

She smiled. ‘You think I’m lying because she thinks it. I know you love Aiyana but she has a hold over you. I understand, but her hold will be broken. You’ll see. Then it will be just you and me. Like it is meant to be.’

Yep, too much like Tezcat but much darker. Threadfin began to splutter in response before managing to say, ‘Wait a minute. I’m a mage and no one’s puppet, least of all my sister’s.’ Why am I getting defensive? She’s just a girl. She’s toying with you, you idiot.

Her grin broadened. ‘Your sister will not rule this imperium,’ she announced. ‘Not that it is of any consequence. The imperium is not important. The world is much bigger and the Spectrum is vast beyond your ability to comprehend. Deep down, you know it is true. Why then do you serve what does not matter?’

‘What is it you think you know? Try telling me in plain old Icarthian. Use small words.’ He had a thumping headache and wasn’t in the mood for riddles. Were the undead supposed to get headaches? He didn’t think so, but much of what he thought he’d known had turned out to be grolg-squat.

‘Your sister keeps asking about the Shathra Stone. She gets impatient when I don’t answer.’ She stopped moving and stooped to pick something up. ‘She asks about the wrong artifact. It is not the Stone she needs. The imperium’s fate is not your concern, undead one. You have a bigger problem to deal with.’ She glanced at him then with an aged visage full of wisdom and knowing.

Another artifact? Like the Shathra Stone? One was bad enough. Threadfin felt nervous and the way she addressed him made him feel small, inadequate. He felt as though he should be bowing to her instead. ‘What problem?’

‘Me.’

Words failed him, as he felt a familiar chill touch his spine.

‘I will take this world,’ she continued, ‘and break it. Crack it like an egg.’ In her open hand was half a brick. He watched it crumble as though the air around it crushed it to dust, which it probably had. Her body shimmered for a moment as though vibrating, a dark nimbus surrounding her. ‘There is nothing you can do to stop me, undead one.’

Her eyes then teared up, though her face showed no sign of emotion. ‘Please, Fin, do not try. I wish no harm to you or anyone else.’ Her face became child-like. ‘Fin, please help me. I’m lost. The emptiness ...’

The mage took a few steps towards her and offered his hand. There seemed to be a war within her. Something was very wrong. Well, obviously something is wrong. She just killed hundreds of people and destroyed part of the city with not a mark or stain on her. ‘Astra, I made a promise—’

‘To her, I know, but you didn’t understand. You still don’t. It’s okay, you’ll break your promise while keeping it.’ She gestured at their surroundings. ‘I didn’t mean to kill them.’ She paused, a tear rolling down her cheek. ‘I am lost and there is no saving me. The emptiness rises along with the darkness. I can feel it. It’s using me to gain form, to reach through. Soon, I won’t be ... me any longer.’

The mask returned and her expression turned cold. ‘I am not whole, but I will be, Todder. Then the end will come. We are nothing more than pieces in a game. You don’t even know the rules, do you?’

‘I never do,’ he whispered, letting his hand drop. She remained remote from him, and he couldn’t see a way to bridge the gap. Part of him wanted to believe her words as nonsense, but the destruction around him made a mockery of the thought.

Her eyes flashed in anger, while at the same time he heard a sound. He whirled to see Sind with sword in hand, staring at Astra. Anger filled her face. Scatter was edging closer with her gaze on the greencloak, ready to intervene.

Too late, Threadfin knew. Always too late. He tried to weave a shield to protect Sind as he ran back towards her. Something forced the shield aside and he knew Astra was going to kill the soldier. Sind was a guardian of the city and its inhabitants first, and he realised Aiyana must want Astra dead. The relationship between them had been one of jailer and prisoner. He could not allow Astra to do this, for her own sake, and for Sind’s. Oh, Aiyana, what have you gone and done?

He caught movement in his peripheral vision, forcing him to stop and turn. He had no time to react as something attacked Astra instead.