Book Ten Part One

Calling to Life

 

A young Riyo Falsemoon sat on a soft rug before a blazing fire. She wore a comfortable brown robe with a World Force logo emblazoned in gold on its breast. Her hair was damp from a bath that had left her clean and uncomfortably warm. Beyond the rug, rough, broken stone stretched out into unknown nothingness that seemed to last forever. Behind Riyo was an armchair, its tall occupant swathed in an all-encompassing robe that made an empty shadow of his face. A small table squatted beside the arm of the chair holding a crystal flute of clear glassberry wine. Riyo did not look at him. She was not allowed to.

Instead, she stared into the twisting flames, watching as orange overtook yellow overtook black before roaring orange again. The logs crackled, the sound seeming to fill a space it couldn’t possibly fill. Riyo thought she could see figures moving amongst the tongues of flame, describing actions and reactions from memories she knew were not hers.

“You’ve been talking to the Sunlight Cultists again,” Elvolar Lightseer said.

“They’re the only people who come down this deep,” Riyo said. In the fire, she saw a flickering white gemstone. Not the sunlight stone, though. Nobody knew what it looked like. “They say they’re going to find a way to get me out.”

“They also say they are going to retrieve the sunlight stone, but few of them have actually tried. None of them have returned from Calis, if they even survived crossing the Reach. I would not put much stock in their promises.”

Riyo sighed. “I know. I have to get out myself.”

“If they do manage to reach this place, you should not refuse their aid.”

“But you don’t think they will.”

“No.”

“And why can’t you just break me out?”

“The mirrors are all broken.”

Riyo sighed again. That was the same explanation as before, but it was really no explanation at all.

“Surely if the cult of the sunlight stone can get so close, one of your archcrafter buddies can get me out of here.”

“The mirrors are all broken.”

“Ugh. Fine. So are you finally going to tell me how to make a reality of my own so I can bust out?”

“Not yet,” Elvolar Lightseer said. He had been saying that for a long time. “Today I will tell you of Major-General Alicia Orion.”

“Oh, yay, another story where you brag about how cool your friends are, even though not one of them can fix a bloody mirror.”

“Mind your language, Riyo.”

“Pfft.”

In the fire, a shape emerged. It was crude, but a tall woman appeared. She had long hair made from the gaps between flames, and it billowed around her.

“Major-General Orion’s reality is one of lightning.”

Riyo perked up. “That does sound cool.”

“I thought you might like it.” Elvolar Lightseer’s voice had a hint of mirth in it. “Her most recent exploit was the destruction of a lava titan that emerged from the Reach itself.”

The woman in the flames vanished. One side of the fireplace was dominated by patterns of orphaned scraps of deep red flame, and she realised it looked like flowing lava. Just like the Reach. The very moment she recognised it, something emerged from it. A bulky, dog-like form with glowing yellow teeth and a mane of more flowing lava. It roared, and the whole fire tapestry shook.

“To name one’s reality is to craft it, and to craft one’s own reality is to take ownership of everything it contains. For most people, including myself, we do so without truly understanding everything we have obtained.”

“So I just have to say what I want my reality to be called and I’ll be able to craft?” Riyo said.

“No, Riyo.” Elvolar Lightseer’s voice was patient, but the fact that Riyo could hear that meant he felt anything but. “I will tell you how to craft your reality when I believe you are ready.”

The lava titan roared again.

“The point of this story is not in the actual crafting of a reality, but in the vast nature of the realities we craft.”

A tiny figure with long, flowing hair stepped forth to face the titan. Riyo thought she was holding a spear, but she was too small to tell.

“You see, Major-General Orion was just like you. Young. Impatient. Narrow minded. She wanted to smash things and would not heed the call for reflection on what is truly possible.”

“I’m liking her more and more,” Riyo said, imagining a little figure that looked like her punching a titan and watching it fly away into the distance.

“And this is one of the frustrations of crafting. The optimal time to craft a reality is during puberty, when the body can change to accommodate the instincts required to use such power. But that is when the mind is at its most flighty. A foolish time to make such important decisions.

“But I digress. For you see, even poorly made decisions can lead to unintended benefits. As I said, Major-General Orion’s reality is one of lightning. But what does that mean?”

“It means she can zap stuff.”

“That is why she chose it, but what else might it mean?”

“Uhhh…”

“Watch.”

The tableau in the fire lurched back into motion. The titan lunged forward with a paw twenty times the size of the Orion figure. The figure did not move, and yet, when the claw crashed down, she was not there.

“I don’t get it,” Riyo said.

“Because you could not see it.”

The scene reset, and the claw came down again – this time like a flicker-book, with each page visible for a full second. Just as the paw touched the woman, she disappeared. The flame seemed to crack, letting a jagged black line trace the bottom of the scene.

“She can… turn into lightning?”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit.” Riyo’s eyes glittered as she watched the figure reappear beneath the titan.

“Not only that, but the body’s nerves are electric signals. The very moment she is touched, no matter how fast, she can move away before any damage is done.”

“That’s so cool.”

“It is, and yet, when she first crafted her reality, she had no idea she could do it. Her only thought when she named it, was…”

The tiny figure raised its tiny spear. There was a flicker of white and yellow.

Riyo leaned forward.

Lightning struck down at the titan, tearing a hole through it and sending stone and lava spurting across the scene. It struck the Orion figure, who glowed with power, and a moment later she thrust out her spear again, this time towards the titan’s head. The bolt of brilliance returned to the heavens, smashing the beast’s head apart on its way.

Riyo’s heart raced. She almost turned around to grin at her master but remembered just in time that she was not allowed to do that.

“Of course, she couldn’t do that when she first named her reality, either. Crafting is like anything we do with our bodies and minds. The more we do it, the better we become at doing it. We get stronger, we become more skilled, we learn things we did not know before.”

“So when will I be ready?”

“Not yet,” Elvolar Lightseer said. “But soon. Think, Riyo, on any idea that comes to you. Think what it might make you capable of, and what it might not. Look at all the possibilities, because something that sounds useless on first hearing it might prove to hold a greater power than even Major-General Orion’s.”

Riyo was still pretty certain she wanted to punch stuff really hard. What she learned today, was that there were many variations of punching stuff hard. She needed to figure out which version punched the hardest.

“So ends today’s lesson,” Elvolar Lightseer intoned, and Riyo knew that she could look back again.

When she did, there was nothing behind her. The darkness was infinite in all directions. No armchair, no rug, no robe, no wine, no fire. She was alone here once more, with dirty hair and cold feet. She picked up her only possession – a needle-like knife – and stood, stretching the ache from her legs.

“I suppose I should look for some dinner, then,” she said to no one.

 

 

Riyo wakes up to the rumbling of her own stomach. Rather than the empty sadness of her former prison, she finds herself in a warm bed surrounded by light. Some of the light is blue.

“Good morning,” Glitter says.

Riyo groans. Her head hurts from front to back and a little at the sides as well.

“How are you feeling?”

Riyo repeats the groan a little louder.

“I see,” Glitter says. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Ice,” Riyo says.

“Oh! That’s something that I am very good at.”

Something cold and soothing touches Riyo’s brow, and she makes a soft, joyous noise.

“Thanks, Glitter,” she says. “Next is food.”

“Okay. I am not quite so good at that. Unless you like to eat snow. Do you like to eat snow?”

“No, Glitter. You know that.”

“You could have developed a taste for it.”

“Fooooood, Glitter.”

“Yes. Okay. Can you get up? The dining room is just through here.”

Riyo groans again as she pulls herself upright, then takes a moment to look around the room. Several lanterns light something like a dormitory with ten beds lining each wall. There is carpet on the floor, and the walls are seamless grey stone that looks as though it has been polished.

“Where are we, exactly?”

“I don’t know. This is the headquarters of the rebellion, but they wouldn’t tell me specifically where it is.”

“What happened to the king?”

“I also don’t know that. We think he just went back into the keep.”

Riyo feels the sensation of someone stepping on her neck again and shivers.

“Let’s go and eat,” Glitter says.

“Yeah.”

The dining room is made of the same slick stone as the dormitory, and there is a large, round table at its centre surrounded by short stools. The ceiling is higher in here, and a number of short stalactites descend from it with lanterns dangling from them. Wooden doors dot the circular wall, but all of them are identical and Riyo has no idea what direction she is facing to begin with, let alone where each might lead.

“Riyo!” Emerald says, standing up and hurrying over to her. “Are you okay?”

“Sort of,” Riyo says, still clutching her chunk of ice to her head. “Hungry, though. And there’s a disturbing lack of food on that table.”

“Um.” The only other person in the room besides Riyo and her friends is the rebel named Sasha. Despite her protests, it has been decided by her superiors that she has the best rapport with the motley group of travellers. She does not enjoy her new position as their liaison and wishes ill on all of them. Since last night, however, their underground barracks has been abuzz with rumours of their exploits. Cotter Lee himself told her to treat them as honoured guests so, despite her incredulity, at least some of those rumours must have grains of truth within them.

“Please wait a moment. We didn’t know when you would wake up, so the food is being kept warm in the kitchen.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Riyo says. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Sasha.”

“Thanks, Sasha.”

“Um, don’t mention it.”

“That was surprisingly polite of you, Riyo,” Rolleck says. “Usually you forget names within seconds of hearing them.”

“Who were you again?”

“Don’t speak to your father that way,” Ravi says.

“Huh?” Emerald says.

“Oh, Rolleck’s my dad now. And I always remember the people who bring me food, so…” she sticks her tongue out at Rolleck. This hurts her head and makes her wince.

“We were going to have a meeting while you eat, but if your head hurts…” Ravi says.

“I’ll be fine,” Riyo says, sitting down and propping her elbows on the table so she can clutch her head. “What’re we talking about?”

“What to do, basically,” Emerald says.

“We have to get rid of the king, right?” Riyo says. “Or whatever he is.”

“See? I told you she wouldn’t suggest leaving,” Rolleck says.

“Huh?”

“It was an idea that was floated,” Emerald says. “Just so that it was out there.” She waves a hand vaguely.

“That Darkness is really bad news,” Riyo says. “I honestly wouldn’t be happy leaving it behind us.”

“So we’ll run into it, instead,” Ravi says.

“You were the most ardent that we stay, anyway,” Emerald says.

“Yeah. I can’t leave knowing that thing is threatening those kids. I’m just, y’know. Putting it out there.” He makes the same gesture as Emerald. “Objectively speaking, fighting something like that is… well, how do you even do it?”

“I guess that’s why we’re having a meeting.”

It goes quiet for a moment. Before anyone can think of any ideas, one of the doors opens and Cotter Lee steps in. Riyo hardly notices him, however, as he is accompanied by two rebels with trays heaped with food.

“It’s good to see you awake, Miss Falsemoon,” Cotter says.

“Riyo is fine,” Riyo says without looking at him. She is focused on the food, which is coming around the table far too slowly.

“Very well.” He sits on the stool closest to the door as some more people shuffle in. “First of all, I would like to thank you for the assistance you have rendered to our rebellion. Even with the earlier misunderstandings, we accomplished more last night than at any other point since this war began, including finally drawing the king out of his keep and showing him for what he is.

“You have helped us enormously.”

“There is still a lot to do, however,” Prince Tolmet says. He sits down beside Cotter Lee. There is still a wall of discomfort between them, but he knows now that it is a decade of misplaced resentment. “I… I can only apologise. To you, most of all,” he turns to the others who have entered but not sat down. Among them are the children from the keep and Gangles McIves. Gem keeps spiking awestruck glances towards Cotter Lee, while the two younger children cling to Sol like she is the mast of their storm-beggared raft. Meera the mouse is also with them, but stands apart, with her eyes downcast and her whiskers drooping.

“I was loyal to my father, let it blind me to what he has become. I took his distance from Fortissa and myself for greater trust in us, when really, he was hiding his true face from us. I… I will find a way to make right. For all that has been perpetrated against the citizens of Frosthold. For all the ill I have done. But first, we must deal with my father.”

“Maybe he can be saved,” Ravi says. “Whatever that Darkness thing is, it wasn’t always in him, right? Maybe we can kick it out.”

“That won’t work,” Cotter says with a sad shake of his head.

“Our father is dead,” Indessa says. She has been quietly standing beside Cotter, but she now comes to sit by him. Cotter puts his hand out, and she takes it for what comfort it provides.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Ravi says.

“He didn’t look very dead,” Glitter says.

Everybody glares at him.

“Oh. Sorry.” He draws a face with two blushing cheeks.

“I know,” Indess says. “But I saw him. The true him.” She is silent for a moment, then draws in a breath that gathers her thoughts with it. “My sister and I are special. As I’m sure you’re aware, having fought her, Fortissa is always accompanied by a ghost. If a spirit like that wishes to be seen, it can appear to them. Some people, however, never stop seeing them. Fortissa is one of them, and so am I.”

Glitter gasps.

Everyone glares at him again.

“We spent our childhoods isolated, for fear that one of the other noble families would try to exploit us. But we kept company with the ghosts of the keep. We had more dead friends than most have living ones, so we were happy. At least, until our mother died.”

“Our mother’s death was hard on father,” Prince Tolmet says, sensing that Indessa needs a moment. “I think that was when he began to change. It was part of the reason I grew accustomed to the difference, at any rate. At first, I expected him to be upset, to act differently. When he did not return to himself, I thought, ‘why should he?’. He had been in love with her for longer than I had been alive. It would have been unreasonable to expect her loss not to change him permanently.”

“Mother’s ghost didn’t linger,” Indessa says. “Most people don’t. Only those with attachments they are willing to deny eternity for. Our father became withdrawn, barely showed for any functions or spoke to anyone but Goven.”

“Who’s Goven?” Glitter asks, then silently congratulates himself for making a pertinent interjection. Socialising is hard.

“Goven is my former boss,” a quiet voice says. One could even describe it as mousy.

Meera lowers her eyes again, seeming to regret having spoken at all.

“I think he was convinced that, despite suffering from her illness for years, mother was assassinated,” Indessa says.

“His reticence and paranoia emboldened our enemies among the noble houses,” Tolmet says. “Three years passed filled with rumours that continued to grow darker, until eventually they banded together to accuse him of plotting the destruction of all of their lines. It would have just been another brazen lie, except that it was corroborated by Talon Dormon.”

“Who’s Talon Dorman?” Glitter asks. He is nailing this, now.

“Talon was the chief of police here,” Cotter Lee says. “Before Yrith.”

“Who’s… Oh, wait, never mind. We know him.” Blew it.

“The people loved him,” Tolmet says. “He was fair, just, and strong. It was his support through father’s withdrawal that gave me the strength to keep going despite essentially becoming father’s regent.”

“But he was murdered,” Cotter Lee says, with an unfriendly glance for the prince. “Before he could reveal what he knew.”

“And even with what I know now, I refuse to believe father was responsible for it,” Tolmet says, a fierce twinkle in his eyes.

“I actually agree,” Indessa says. “I think it was one of the families who didn’t believe he had enough proof and knew it would be more effective for him to die in extremely suspicious circumstances.”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter at this point,” Cotter says. He remains unconvinced. “Whether he ordered the murder or not, he responded by appointing Yrith in his place.”

“I can’t imagine that went well,” Rolleck says.

“He caused a huge division in the force. He was corrupt as hell and sloppy about it, believing he had the backing of the king while still taking bribes from the noble houses. Then, about a month later, he went too far and facilitated the coup.”

Tolmet glances towards Indessa. “We don’t have to-”

“You’re right. We don’t.” She looks around at everybody in the room, then begins cramming what is clearly a significant event to her into a small nutshell. “The nobles tried for a military coup – their own private forces and the police that were true to Yrith’s greed invaded the keep. The guard captains proved too loyal to bribe and too strong to defeat. They failed, but they did find our bedroom. That was the first time Fortissa performed the death waltz. She used it to hide, and I was taken and…”

Cotter touches her arm.

“And this,” she finishes, touching her blindfold and empty sleeve.

“That was when the war began,” Tolmet says. “While my father had fallen out of favour somewhat, there were still those who sympathised with his mourning, and remembered the good our family has done for Frosthold. There were also those who saw rebellion against the king as siding with those who had mutilated a young girl.”

“And you certainly didn’t jump to point out the fallacy in that,” Indessa says.

“In fact,” Cotter says, “I recall several occasions, watching you speak from above that drawbridge, that you reinforced that belief.”

“Meanwhile, I was locked away in a countryside villa with some doctors and some nurses and none of my family. Where, ten years later, my brother still believed me to be.”

Tolmet can only stare at the tablecloth.

“Oooooh,” Glitter says. “You got him.”

“Maybe be quiet, Glitter,” Emerald says. “That’s an important social skill, too.”

“Okay.”

“Um, what’s the death waltz?” Ravi asks.

“Right,” Indessa says. “That’s the point of this story, after all.” She takes another deep breath. “Okay, Talbot.”

There is a queasy flash of blue, and Indessa slumps a little in her seat.

A man appears beside her, dressed in ragged black tunic and trousers. The Frostburne coat of arms has been half-ripped from his breast but, with a little imagination, it’s easy to see what the outfit once looked like.

Meera’s eyes go wide. “They told us about you,” she whispers.

The man has a literal mane of auburn hair and a tail with matching fur that curls up behind him. The rest of his traits are subtle, but that is because they are inherently similar to the part of him that is human.

“Good morning,” he says. “My name is Talbot Frostburne, the first of the king’s shadows, and brother to the first Frostburne king of Frosthold.”

“There was a lot of frost in that sentence,” Glitter says. Then, “Oops, sorry.”

The monkey-traited man laughs. “You’re not wrong, my frosty friend.”

“Talbot sought me out not long after the coup,” Indessa says. She looks smaller, now, and it is clear from the way she stares at nothing that she can no longer see. “He helped me to recover, and he taught me about the death waltz.”

“The waltz,” Talbot says, “allows living people, gifted like Indessa and her sister, to join forces with the dead. Not only does this let them share their strength and knowledge, but also creates new powers born from the waltz itself.

“Performed as we do it, it is harmless. However, it can be forced upon someone.”

“Fortissa thinks she is sharing her strength with Tondwell, but in truth he has control of her,” Indessa says. “I’m worried for her. The moment she becomes uncertain, Tondwell will assume direct control of her, and that is when it becomes dangerous.”

“During the waltz, the living and dead parties share their energy,” Talbot says. “It flows from one to the other and back again, much like a dance.”

“Hence the name,” Glitter says.

“If one party takes control of everything, however, they keep their own power and only take from the other. Take too much energy from a living person, and…”

“They don’t stay living,” Ravi says with a nod.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Rolleck says to the ghost, “why is it you are helping Indessa?”

“Because my brother killed me, and I’m not particularly happy about it, if I’m honest.”

Meera gasps.

“Yes,” Talbot says, “I imagine they never told you that part.” He glances down at Indessa. “It is an old story, and a long one, so I will pare it down a little. The important part is the reason Tondwell killed me.”

 

 

 

 

Talbot Frostburne glanced to his left. Sanella noticed and smiled at him, the scales on her face glittering in the early morning sunlight.

“Nervous?” she said.

Talbot returned his gaze to the lake. The once-tranquil surface now boiled, streamers of steam peeling off into the hazy air.

“Aren’t you?”

“What do I have to be nervous about?” Her voice tinkled with amusement. “I’m already dead.”

“Do you never worry that there might be something worse?”

“Something I’ve never heard of or seen evidence for? What’s the use in that? You might as well worry that all the potatoes in Frosthold will spring to life and devour you.”

Talbot looked at her again, then burst out laughing.

“You’re right,” he said once he had his laughter under control.

“Less nervous, now?”

“Yes.” He pulled his shadow-black tunic over his head and kicked off his shoes. Then he hesitated.

“I’ve already seen it all, Tal,” Sanella said.

Talbot looked at her again, his eyes narrowed.

“What? I’m a ghost! I’ve been lingering around that keep of yours for centuries. I’ve seen more naked people than you’ve seen people full stop.”

Talbot sighed. “I know. It still feels strange, though.”

“Well I’m not going to treat it like it’s strange, so just get on with it.”

Talbot held her earnest eyes for a moment, then, with a grumble, pulled off his trousers.

“By the Word!” Sanella covered her mouth in mock scandal. “How indecent!”

“Oh, give it a rest.”

“Heh. You’re adorable, Tal.” She glanced down with a grin. “But I guess you’re not a little boy anymore, huh?”

Talbot stared at the lake. “Are we going to do this or not?”

“Of course, big man,” she said. She came around in front of him, still grinning. Pressed in close, so that their lips were almost touching. “Anything you say.” Then she stepped into him.

With a flash of raw, blue energy, the veil dividing the dead from the living fell, and Talbot felt the rush of power as their spirits melded together. Blue flame engulfed him for a moment, then fell away to nothing. He felt Sanella’s touch in the back of his mind, heard her thoughts echoing through him as though they were his own.

A lot of room in here.

“Ha,” he said, trotting down to the edge of the lake. “You’re sure this will work?”

Of course. The Chill and your Trait will keep you from being burned, and my gills will do the rest.

Talbot let the Trait flicker through his fur. Unique to those who carried animal traits in their bloodlines, and manifesting in only a few even among them, the Trait could empower a person far beyond their normal limits of strength and endurance.

“Okay,” Talbot said. “I’m ready.”

Then let’s go!

Talbot jumped into the writhing lake, his heart racing. It felt like diving into a hot spring, and his instincts screamed at him to get out as the heat pressed in against his skin. Panic closed his throat, told him he would surely drown.

Here.

Sanella took over, and he breathed. Air filled his lungs.

“Amazing,” he thought. “Even though I have no gills.”

The magic of the waltz. Sanella’s thoughts are smug. I told you, didn’t I?

“You did. I’m sorry to have doubted you.”

Don’t worry. It’s natural to be suspicious of something so amazing.

They swam together, their skin becoming accustomed to the heat, their eyes piercing the watery gloom better and better thanks to Sanella’s sturgeon traits. The fish that fed the capital schooled like maddened locusts near the surface and edges of the lake, desperate to escape the devastation being wrought upon them by something hidden below. Once they passed the melee of gently cooking animals, the silence and emptiness grew oppressive. Deep water bubbles sent ripples through the water, and the heat grew stronger the closer to the lakebed they came.

Deep in the centre of the lake, the water brightened. A fierce red light emanated from a lurching mass of molten metal.

By the Word.

“It’s as we feared.”

What’s going on? It’s geologically impossible.

“It’s an incursion.”

An incursion? Of what?

“The Reach.”

 

 

“It can do that?” Ravi says.

“It can indeed,” Gangles McIves says.

Everyone turns to look at him. He is preening his moustache in thought and looks startled by the attention.

“My apologies,” he says with a shallow bow. “My name is Gangles McIves, leader and sole member of the Saviour’s Call chapter of the Cult of the Sunlight Stone. My order prides itself somewhat on its collected knowledge of all things Calis.

“The Reach is considered by many to be a bridge, but it is actually more of a tunnel. Or possibly a covered bridge. I think it depends how one defines a bridge in the first place-”

Talbot the ghost clears his throat. He seems to be displeased with the interruption to his story.

“Yes. Well, anyway, the Reach doesn’t actually end in the Tower’s End Song. It burrows beneath the Plains of Chaos and reaches its tendrils into the mantle of Valos. Those tendrils occasionally surface in various places across the planet.”

“And when they do,” Talbot says, taking back narrative control, “chaos comes with them.”

 

 

 

Something clawed its way out of the churning lava. A blackened beast with two heads on long, snake-like necks pulled free of the incursion. Its eyes glowed like amethysts and its fangs glistened like polished steel. The rest of its body came free. It was humanoid save for its heads and wore twisted armour that spoke of dying trees and burned bones. Its hands were tipped with savage claws, and its legs ended in cloven hooves.

It immediately began drowning.

“I have to warn Tondwell. It won’t be long before something that can breathe water comes through.”

What is it? There is fear in Sanella’s thoughts that echoes across the connection between them, shaking the waltz.

“Some nightmare of Calis. There are so many of them, all strange and evil, that even the Sunlight Stone cultists have given up on trying to give them names.”

What can we do?

“Call for help.”

They returned to the surface, breaching through a layer of dead fish that should have kept the lake populous through hundreds of years. Should the incursion be closed, they would have to repopulate the lake from elsewhere.

Talbot flopped down on the grass to get his breath back, and a blue flicker signalled the end of their waltz. Sanella stood over him, the teasing smile from earlier stolen by worry.

“Don’t fret,” Talbot says. “This is the primary reason the World Force was started in the first place. They are experts at dealing with incursions.”

“I thought the World Force was a peace-keeping initiative.”

“That’s what they say,” Talbot sat up and shook some of the water from his fur. “Incursions are rare – there’s maybe one every few decades – so most people don’t actually know about them. The leaders of the World Force like to keep it quiet so that people won’t panic.”

“So why do you know?”

“I’m a spy,” Talbot said with a grin. “I get paid to know things I shouldn’t.” He stood. “Come on, let’s go and warn my brother. The sooner we let the World Force know, the sooner they can close this thing.”

“You should probably get dressed, first,” Sanella said, her smile returning. “It would hurt your pride as a spy to give away such a big secret so easily.”

Sanella giggled at him while he dressed, then they climbed the gently sloping pasture before the lake to Saviour’s Call. The city buzzed with uncertainty. It was difficult to miss the lake boiling, and ever since that morning the people had been crowding the plaza before the drawbridge. Tondwell had made a speech, urging calm while the problem was investigated. The people cared so deeply for him that, despite many of them drawing their entire livelihood from the lake, there was no mass panic. No shouting or screaming for answers. If the king hadn’t told them the reason, it was simply because he didn’t know it yet.

People waved at Talbot, making space for him to pass through the busy streets. Twenty years ago, when the last king had died with no heir and the noble’s war began, Tondwell Frostburne had risen to the top like a soaring Black Condor on the back of his political cunning and deft swordsmanship. He had raised his bastard brother up with him, too, ignoring hundreds of years of tradition. Such was his will that he could single-handedly overturn such entrenched sentiments. As soon as the crown was his, Tondwell had legitimised Talbot and made him his shadow. Now, people barely remembered he was a bastard at all.

Talbot smiled at everyone who took the time to acknowledge him, then ducked into the Church of Vellum around the corner from the drawbridge. The people knew him as a pious man, but he hadn’t kept to the Word for a long time.

“Good morning, Scribe Cantor,” he said to the man stood alone by the altar.

“Good morning, Sir.” One of Cantor’s ears flopped down over his face, and he propped it back up again. His whiskers twitched in embarrassment. “Do you wish to use the library?”

“Yes, please.”

“Then please go ahead. It is currently empty.”

“thank you, Scribe.”

He descended the old wooden stairs into the basement and heaved open the secret passage that led to the keep. He had walked that underground path so many times that he needed no light, and his brother was waiting for him at the other end.

They clasped arms and hugged while Sanella rolled her eyes at them.

“You always greet each other like you’ve been apart for years.”

“It’s our brotherly tradition, Sanella,” Tondwell said. “A pact between men.”

“It’s stupid.”

“To you, maybe.” He turned back to Talbot. “Is it bad?”

“Yes,” Talbot said, his expression turning grave. “It’s an incursion.”

Tondwell sucked air through his teeth. “I thought as much. I’ve already drafted a letter to the World Force, but I worry it will take too long to reach them. Were there any signs of nightmares?”

“One,” Sanella said. “It drowned.”

Talbot nodded. “We’re fortunate, in a way, that it appeared at the bottom of the lake. Only amphibious creatures or those with no need to breathe will be able to threaten the city.”

“I will have every inch of the lakeshore watched. Several mounted units will respond to any sighting of a creature emerging from the water. I’d like you and Genji to be ready if anything really big comes out.”

“Yes, my king,” Talbot said, bowing.

Tondwell rolled his eyes. “Next time you do that, I’ll use my kingly authority to have you thrown in the dungeon.” He turned and strode out of the room, his ice-blue cape swishing behind him.

“I suppose I should get ready, then,” Talbot said.

“How long do you think it will take for someone from the World Force to come?” Sanella said.

Talbot just shrugged uncomfortably.

 

It took almost a month. The first two weeks were relatively uneventful – what few nightmares managed to reach the surface of the lake were filled full of arrows on the shoreline. Those who usually fished the lake were instead paid from the king’s own coffers to assist the guards in watching over the incursion. The danger drew the whole city together in a spirit of camaraderie, and the people grew complacent with the threat.

In the third week, they faced several creatures a day. The guards started taking casualties. And the much-beloved king all but disappeared from public life.

By the middle of the fourth week, there was a near constant stream of monsters crawling from the lake.

 

“Damnit,” Talbot said, looking down at the cut on his arm. It wasn’t deep but, with help still several days away at the earliest, he couldn’t afford to be taking such foolish injuries. The creature that had delivered the blow lay at his feet. It was almost human in size and shape, but it was made from stone and its face was just a twisted mess of geology.

The next nightmare was already creeping its way out of the water through the scum on the surface. The fish had all died, and now some manner of gross, slimy algae that enjoyed hot water was flourishing across the entire body of water. Talbot had almost become accustomed to its foul stench.

You should rest, Sanella said in his head. Let the guards handle a few while they’re still coming one at a time.

“The guards cannot do what you and I can,” Talbot said. “If they have to fight, some of them will die.”

If you keep fighting like this, you will die.

“Better that than the alternative.”

Your brother could help.

Talbot almost argued. His brother had many things he must do to protect the kingdom. His brother could not be risked out here. His brother was working on a strategy that could see the incursion closed. Over the last week, he had excused his brother in every way he could think of, and his instinct was to do it again, now. He owed Tondwell everything, and his brother had never failed him once. He must have a reason for not emerging from the keep to reassure his people and help them fight.

But the fact was, he was failing him now. He hadn’t seen him in days.

“I’ll leave the monsters to the guards for as long as it takes to find Tondwell,” he says, signalling to captain Landov.

The man jogged forward. “Yes, sir?”

“I must rest and speak with the king,” Talbot said. “Can you handle this for an hour or so?”

“Of course, sir!” Landov said. “You have already done too much in our stead.”

“Thank you, captain. I will return as soon as I can.”

“Please don’t rush, sir. Take as long as you need.”

Talbot nodded and headed for the keep. A number of guards cheered and saluted as he passed.

They’ve really come to respect you.

“They respect us. The strength of the waltz is truly astounding.”

He almost lost his footing just before the city gates as the ground began shaking. He heard fearful yells from within the city and atop its walls and turned back to find the lake rising.

By the Word.

The very centre of the lake became a hill as something truly massive rose through its waters. Steam and fragments of molten metal burst from its back, and then, with a splash that echoed off the far distant mountains, the creature stood. Its roar sent the guards surrounding the lake running. Scattered screams marked those hit by the rain of white-hot fragments of the Reach.

The creature itself was an impossible colossus, with twelve eyes that glowed like sunlit diamonds in its bulbous head and green-grey skin that dribbled with slime. Its body was stick-thin, but the innumerable tentacles that emerged from its neck like a ruff quickly wound all around it, thickening its body until it achieved an almost-human shape.

How can we fight that?

“I don’t know, but we have to try.” Talbot turned and let the Trait roll over him.

“Hold on, there,” a new voice said.

Talbot span around. There was a woman standing before the closed gates of the city. She had dark skin and black, curly hair that was shorn away on the left side of her head. She was almost tall enough to look him in the eye, and she approached him with a lithe grace that spoke of years of martial training. Her leather armour was painted with unsymmetrical, angular patterns, and came with a single pauldron over her right shoulder, leaving her left arm bare. When Talbot followed those patterns, they led his eyes to a symbol emblazoned on the front of her left thigh. The mark of the World Force.

“Thank the Writings,” Talbot said, breathing a sigh of relief and making the woman smile.

“Sorry it took so long,” she said. “I’m Lieutenant-General Sain Mantra. Is King…” she glanced down at the back of her hand, “Tondwell around?”

“I will go and find him immediately.”

“Thanks,” she turned her attention back to the titan. “I’ll deal with your little incursion problem while I wait. Please have all your people retreat to a safe distance and, ideally, avert their eyes.”

Talbot scanned the scene and found Captain Landov, already running towards him. The creature roared again, setting further panic into the guards. In truth, he needn’t give the order to retreat. They were already doing it. The only person who wasn’t was probably Captain Genji.

“Sunlight,” the woman said, then frowned. “You have a crafter among your army?”

“Yes. He’s probably on the other side of the lake. He’s never really known the better part of valour.”

“No problem,” Sain said. “I can send him a note.” Her brow creased.

“Captain,” Talbot said as Landov reached him, wide eyed and panting. “Make sure the guard falls back from the lake. If you can, get them to look away from the monster.”

“I’ll… do what I can,” Landov panted.

“You’re sure you don’t need any assistance?” Talbot said to the Lieutenant-General.

“Yes. Thank you,” she said without looking at him.

“Then I will seek the king.”

Talbot went over to the sally port that passed through the gate, sparing another glance for the titan. It was wading towards the city, its blazing eyes intent on the fleeing guards and the walls that would provide no shelter from something that size.

The people of the city were in their homes, as ordered. Talbot saw plenty of them watching him through their windows as he jogged through the streets. He was approaching the church when, for a moment, the world went dark.

What now?

He turned back towards the gate. A single point of light, so brilliant that just glancing at it left a painful streak of colour on his vision, seemed to hover above the lake, and he looked away again just in time to hide from a flash that lit everything in a light so bright that, even facing away from its source, he could not see. The shadows leaned inward on themselves until they were gone. It was like standing in a white room with a million lanterns.

Everything went back to normal so quickly that he was left blinking in the street, while around him the people cried out in fear and pain. But he didn’t have time to tell them that the light was probably good. He began jogging again.

A furious roar crashed against his back, suggesting that the visitation of all the light in the universe had not yet killed the titan. He hoped that wasn’t all the woman had up her sleeve, but if it was then they were all doomed anyway. He barrelled into the church to find it filled from wall to wall with people praying. Usually, the place remained empty from dawn until dusk, but Talbot supposed if there was ever a time to rediscover religion, it was now.

A number of the congregation looked up at him, but he ignored them. It might be that this gave away his long-standing secret passage, but he was in too much of a hurry to wait for the drawbridge to come down. Apologising as he went, he shoved his way through the crowd and bounded down the stairs. There were people in the library, too.

Uh oh.

“It is what it is,” Talbot said. The few people who had decided that the protection of faith might be bolstered by a layer of earth between them and the monsters watched him as he yanked the bookcase aside.

He turned back at the threshold and gave the astonished citizens a conspiratorial look. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep a lid on this?”

“Uh, sure,” one man said.

“Thanks.” Talbot had recovered his breath, now, and yanked the door closed behind him before sprinting all the way to the keep.

His brother was not waiting for him. In fact, as he ran through the corridors, he got the sense that the keep was deserted.

Something’s wrong.

“Where the bloody hell is he?” Talbot growled.

The throne room was empty. His quarters were empty.

There should at least be a few guards here, Sanella said. Wasn’t Captain Brazen in charge of protecting the king?

There were rocks in Talbot’s guts. He had blitzed the whole keep and come up empty. The only place he hadn’t been was the dungeons.

A gloomy, narrow staircase spiralled down into the earth from the base of the north tower. No torches or lanterns lit the way, and the feeling of the weight of rock and soil above him pressed down on his shoulders as he went deeper. Several corridors jaunted off from the staircase, each lined with iron doors that were now standing wide open.

At the very bottom of the staircase were the prisons of the worst convicts, but these too showed their bare walls and dirty floors to the corridor. At the very end, where there should have been a wall, a new hole bored deeper into the world. Tondwell Frostburne stood at the opening, waiting.

“What’s going on?” Talbot said. The look in his brother’s eyes was not one he had ever seen before, and his grin looked like the corners of his mouth had been nailed to his skull.

“Something wonderful,” Tondwell said.

All of the cell doors slammed closed at once, caught by an imaginary wind.

The Trait rushed through Talbot’s fur, making it stand up while a chill ran down his back.

That is not your brother, Sanella said.

“Come, Talbot,” Tondwell said. “Let me show you a beautiful truth.”

“What happened to the people in the keep, Tondwell? To the prisoners?”

“Nothing,” Tondwell said.

Get out of here, Tal.

“Be quiet, Sanella,” Tondwell said. “I’m talking to my brother.”

Talbot’s chest tightened, his heart thrumming.

“The World Force is here,” Talbot said, taking a slow step back. “The incursion might even be closed by now.”

Tondwell’s eerie grin faded away, then he shook his head in a clunky, inhuman way.

“It doesn’t matter. We always have more time. Always.”

“More time for what?”

Just run, Tal! Get out, now!

“Time to bring the End!” Tondwell said. He took a drunken step forward, and Talbot turned to run. Something grabbed at his chest and shoved him backwards with such force that he stumbled. He tried to turn and found himself clutching his brother’s shoulders to keep his balance.

No!

There was a strange, pinching sensation in Talbot’s chest. He looked down.

“What?” he said.

He took a step back, and the sword handle followed him. He looked up, back into his brother’s empty eyes.

“Tondwell?”

Please, Sanella said. Her voice sounded distant. Tal.

There was a flash of blue light, and Talbot felt the world turn around him. He was on the floor, looking up at Sanella and his brother. For a moment, the two boys were children again. They were laughing and chasing each other around as Sanella watched over them with a smile. Then things began to go dark.

“Talbot,” Sanella said, but her voice was even further away now. “Tondwell, what have you done?”

“I’ve freed him. And I can free you, too.”

Sanella looked from Talbot to Tondwell, her face a mask of pain. She took a step back from Tondwell whose rictus grin returned.

Talbot blinked at the scene, wondering where the children had gone. On the other side of the blink, however, there was only darkness.

 

 

 

“By the time I awakened as a ghost, two generations had already passed,” Talbot says. Indessa is resting a hand on his arm, but he is staring down at the floor as though he is watching himself take his final breath. “I never saw Sanella again, and I discovered books in the library telling the story of my brother’s reign. The incursion was closed, the people cheered and I, apparently, took ill. I was quarantined away with some manner of Calis-born pathogen I’d picked up while fighting the nightmares. I passed away shortly after, but not before infecting a devastating number of people in the keep.

“I never did find out what happened to all those people. And though I knew in my heart the moment I died that what killed me wasn’t really my brother, until now I had no explanation for it.”

“You think this Darkness thing took him?” Prince Tolmet says. “The same way it has my father?”

“I’m sure of it,” Talbot says.

“But if it’s been around for that long,” Emerald says, “why did Saviour’s Call prosper for the next few hundred years?”

“The histories say that, three years after the incursion and shortly after having a son, King Tondwell Frostburne took his own life,” Talbot says. “I always thought he’d managed to take back control from whatever it was for long enough to kill himself, and it with him.”

“Maybe that’s not far wrong,” Ravi suggests. “Maybe the Darkness was gone, until the current king reawakened it somehow.”

“It’s as good a theory as any,” Cotter Lee says, “but how does it help?”

“Well, for a start we know it can be killed,” Rolleck says. “Or at least turfed out of its host.”

“It also tells us that there’s probably something in the keep that allowed it to return,” Emerald says. “So, if we can figure out what it is, then we can turf it out of the king and then stop it from ever coming back.”

“The place to start would be my final resting place,” Talbot says. “Whatever was down there when I died might still be there.”

“I doubt the Darkness will let us get there easily,” Rolleck says. “Whatever it is, it’s strong. If Riyo hadn’t kept it from us, we’d probably all be dead.”

They all look to their saviour, but she has fallen asleep on a gravy-smeared plate.

“I have a question,” Glitter says carefully.

“Go ahead, Glitter,” Emerald says.

“Um, Mr. Talbot. If your brother got rid of the Darkness once, why is his ghost now helping it?”

“That is what most perplexes me,” Talbot says. “It… it’s still possible that I was wrong. That Tondwell never defeated the Darkness, and that Frosthold’s prosperity is somehow a part of its plan.”

“Why don’t you just ask him?”

Talbot’s mouth quirks into half a smile. “I’d like to, but he will not speak to me. And I do not see him as often as you might think. We ghosts can move in ways that defy the physical world, but we are still bound to it. We can only be in one place at one time and… And my brother was always stronger than me. Even with my Trait, while we were alive, I never once bested him in combat. Death hasn’t changed that. He can hide from me in the keep, where I dare not tread, and on the handful of occasions I’ve found him outside, he has escaped me.”

“Well, now you have us,” Glitter says. “We’ll help you talk to your brother!”

“How exactly will you do that?” Cotter Lee says.

“Uhh…”

“We will have to draw him out,” Tolmet says. “And I think I know how we can do it.” He stands. “Now that my eyes have been opened, the only trustworthy member of our family that remains to the enemy is Fortissa. Between us, we have been keeping the people placated. I thought I was maintaining peace, protecting people from chaos, but it seems all I have done is kept this war going. If I speak to the people, tell them what I have learned, then only Fortissa could speak against me. She would have to come out, and Tondwell would have to be with her to keep her safe.”

“It’s still dicey,” Cotter Lee says. “Announcements are usually made from the drawbridge. That’s as far out as she’ll need to go.”

“It’s far enough,” Indessa says.

“Probably,” Talbot adds.

The door behind Ravi bursts open, smashing into the wall and making him leap out of his seat and onto the table.

Riyo sits bolt upright and screams open her reality. “Where are they?!” Her head swivels round, eyes glancing off everybody on the room, then she touches her face. “They got me! I’m bleeding!”

“Riyo! It’s gravy!” Emerald says, arresting her attention.

Riyo puts her fingers in her mouth. “I’m bleeding gravy!”

The black-clad rebel responsible for the chaos is leaning against the door and panting, while staring at Talbot as though he has seen a ghost.

“You have a report?” Cotter Lee says.

“Yes. Sorry, sir. Captain Longshank has escaped!”

Cotter Lee’s expression grows dark. “When? How?”

“He… I’m not sure. The two guards left outside his cell are missing. Two more are dead, and a third gravely injured. She says the cell guards attacked her and let Longshank out.”

“Traitors?” Sasha says, disbelief in her voice.

Cotter Lee shakes his head. “I don’t doubt there are spies among us, but the odds of two of them being chosen to guard a prisoner as valuable as Longshank?”

“Perhaps his puppetry is stronger than you realised,” Rolleck says.

“Shit,” Cotter says. “I should have… Well, there is nothing to be done, now. I’ll have to close up whichever path he escaped by before-”

A different door explodes inwards, this time behind Emerald. She, too, jumps, then turns an angry glower on the offending rebel, who forgets whatever urgent report she has in favour of stumbling back from the grumpy dragon and falling on her backside with a squeak of fear.

“I thought you people had secret knocks and stuff,” Ravi says, still standing in the table, knife in hand.

“We do,” Cotter Lee says with a raised eyebrow for the messenger. “What news?”

“Sorry, sir,” she says without taking her eyes off Emerald. There is a distinct quiver to her voice. “Immanuel reports activity at the keep. People are gathering as though there’s going to be an announcement.”

“If I were the king,” Rolleck says, “I would do something to counter the prince’s inevitable change of heart after seeing what he really is.”

“They’ll probably have Fortissa accuse us of capturing and torturing him,” Cotter Lee says, “And suggest anything he says later is done so under duress.”

“Would Fortissa do that?” Emerald asks. “She seemed hesitant about all this when I spoke with her.”

“She may not have a choice,” Talbot says. “If Tondwell takes control of her…” He turns to Indessa. “Would you like your eyes back, my dear?”

Indessa lets out a breath of relief and gives a faint smile. “Thank you, Tal.”

The ghost steps into the princess, and a rush of cold, blue fire engulfs them both. It ends with a searing blue flash, and Indessa looks as she did before. Taller. Stronger.

“That’s really cool,” Riyo says. “Hey, Rolleck. When you become a ghost, we should learn to do that.”

Rolleck just glares at her.

“We should go to the drawbridge plaza,” Indessa says. “If we get there first, we can head off whatever propaganda they’re planning on using to keep the loyalists on side.”

“Agreed,” Cotter Lee says, standing. “Are you willing to help us once more, travellers?”

“Yep,” Riyo says, bouncing to her feet. She casts about, then scurries over to Sasha. “Thanks for the food,” she says.

“Um, no problem.”

Riyo hugs her, stunning her into paralysis for a moment. When she withdraws, Sasha finds that the gravy from Riyo’s face is now on her tunic.

“Let’s go!” Riyo says.

 

Cotter Lee’s tunnel network leads them all to a damp basement on the edge of the moat. He informs them that this is an as-yet-unused emergency tunnel, which explains the look of shock on the face of the plump woman whose kitchen they bluster into.

“Sorry for intruding,” Riyo says. “It’s important, though. Which way’s the drawbridge?”

Everybody else, led by Cotter Lee, barrels past her out into the garden. The woman watches them pass by with eyes as large as Calis, her mouth flapping open and closed without issuing a sound.

“Seems like they know,” Riyo says, jogging to the door after them. “Sorry again.” And then she is out, hopping over the low wall around the woman’s small garden and into a street packed with startled eyes and curious ears. Shouts of disbelief gather in the air, and people jostle and shove to get out of their way. Emerald leads the charge, her heart breaking a little for each look of abject fear she receives.

The plaza is packed to bursting with people and unease. Princess Fortissa stands atop the drawbridge, resplendent in a beam of early morning sunlight that makes her armour shine and grants her an aura of unbreakable purity.

They come to a halt at the back of the crowd. The people it is made from are too focused on the princess to notice Emerald in timely manner.

“People of Saviour’s Call,” Fortissa says. Her voice carries over the plaza with unnatural strength, and the duality of it is clear to those looking for it.

“Tondwell,” Indessa growls.

“We have to do something,” Ravi says. “Quickly.”

Riyo opens her reality, but Cotter Lee puts a hand on her shoulder.

“This is politics,” he says.

“People of Frosthold.”

“It is best left to the royals and I. Look for an opportunity to capture Fortissa.” Cotter Lee draws his sword and closes his eyes.

“I come to you today with sad tidings.”

Cotter’s eyes snap open and he rams his sword into the ground. The people around them have noticed them, and a wave of pressurised chaos is trying to spread through the crowd. It picks up in intensity as the ground begins to shake.

“My brother, Prince Tolmet, has been captured by Cotter Lee and his violent rebels.”

The ground folds upwards, pillars of earth rising in uneven stages. Despite the press, the crowd parts to let the ground push higher.

Tondwell has clearly seen them, because he begins to rush.

“We cannot know what terrible tortures those barbarians will carry out against him, but his words can no longer be trusted.”

Even his amplified voice is drowned out in the last by the crunch of rock and the wails of terror from the crowd. As the new staircase settles into shape, Cotter Lee, Prince Tolmet and Princess Indessa hurry to its peak, at eye level with the top of the drawbridge gate.

“Fortissa!” Indessa shouts, and with the rumble of the ground fading, her voice reaches the same level as Fortissa’s.

“Man, that’s really useful,” Riyo says. “Hey Ravi-”

“I’m not dying so you can shout a bit louder, Riyo.”

“Pfft.”

“Tondwell is lying to you,” Indessa says.

For a moment, Fortissa’s face twitches. “Indessa?” she says, and it is only her voice that echoes around the plaza.

“Fortissa, please. You have to fight him.”

Her face twitches again, and this time it becomes a scowl.

“Do not test me, Princess,” Tondwell says.

“Let her go, you wretch.”

“You do not understand what is happening here, Talbot.”

“Enough,” Tolmet says. “We know you serve that Darkness, Tondwell. Release my sister and let us confront it together. You claim to serve this kingdom, but you are destroying it.”

“And you are not? By working with him?” Fortissa points her sword at Cotter Lee.

“Cotter Lee is the last honourable man in Frosthold,” Indessa says.

Fortissa laughs. “You do not know, do you?”

“Indessa,” Cotter Lee says, taking her hand.

Indessa glances at him, and he realises he has made a mistake.

“Know what?”

“His lineage!” Fortissa cries. “Cotter Lee, hero of the downtrodden, is the bastard son of the Rose family. His own family’s guards stormed your keep. Cut off your arm. Gouged out your eyes. And whose money, whose resources, do you think made his resistance possible?”

Indessa is very still. She stares at her sister’s face, twisted by Tondwell’s malice. Looks into her crystalline eyes.

“Indessa,” Cotter says again.

She lets go of his hand.

“Is this true?” Tolmet asks.

“Look to his sword,” Fortissa says. “A cursed heirloom of the Rose family. Would they ever part with such a blade voluntarily?”

“I…” Cotter says, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.

Down in the square, a formerly terrified crowd has grown complacent now that what they thought would be a fight has turned out to be a conversation. They are listening. Among them, several black-clad figures stare at their leader and wait. Wait for him to deny it. Wait for him to call out the princess’s lies.

“Uh oh,” Rolleck says as the silence stretches.

“Huh?” Ravi says.

“The man is too honest for his own good,” Rolleck says. “Riyo.”

“On it,” Riyo says, opening her reality.

“It was true,” Cotter Lee says.

Indessa turns away from him like he has slapped her.

“For the first few years, I…”

Indessa grinds her teeth. Her blindfold grows damp on the left side. The right eye was damaged so badly that even the tear ducts stopped working. Damaged by Cotter’s family. Whose actions he had, at least at first, condoned.

“But not anymore. I changed my mind. You changed my mind.”

“Shut up,” Indessa says, and hates how weak she sounds. How her voice quavers.

Bastard, Talbot says. Indessa, I’m so sorry.

A number of rebels are gathered at the bottom of the stairs. Rolleck stands in their path, but he does not have the heart to fight them. They have every right to be angry, and Rolleck himself still harbours some resentment towards Cotter Lee.

Other rebels have gone from the plaza, searching out companions to share their devastating news with.

“And what of it?” Tolmet shouts. His reality bursts open, and once again Saviour’s Call is blanketed in a quiet peace. Unassisted, his voice does not carry nearly as far as the princesses’, but with the crowd’s anger fading away, silence lets his words reach them.

“We have been at war with ourselves for ten long years. Some of us have changed our minds. Some of us have lied to ourselves, or to each other, to make our lives that little bit easier. That little bit more bearable. Some of us have made mistakes. Some of us have been betrayed. Our city is broken and strangled to the point of surrender. This could be our last breath.

“But we are not yet broken. We have not yet surrendered. And it is clear to me now that we have all been tricked. My father is not the man he once was.”

“Prince Tolmet…” Fortissa says, but it is not clear which consciousness within her is speaking.

“You have all seen it! His silence in the face of all of this. His reticence. He has shown, time and again, that he no longer cares for this city. For its people. In my love for him I have been blind to it, but now it is time for him to explain himself.”

He raises his voice further. “Father! If you truly wish to see the Frosthold Song prosper. If you truly wish peace. Come. Please. Speak to your people.”

“That wasn’t the plan,” Ravi says. “If the king does come out, we’re in trouble.”

“You do not want that,” Tondwell says. Fortissa’s features are still, suggesting he has control of her body now.

“You know what he is. What he did to your brother. To you,” Tolmet says so that the crowd will not hear.

“And that is why you do not want him to come out here, boy.”

A length of chain hauls the Iron Pillowcase up to the top of the gate, where she lands neatly beside the princess. The stump of her arm is bound in bloody bandages, and several lengths of chain emerge directly from it.

“The king is angry, your majesties,” she says. “Tolmet, he wishes to see you at once.”

Tolmet narrows his eyes. “I will not speak to him unless it is before the people. They have a right to know they have been toyed with.”

“Very well. Tondwell. Kill him.”

“What?” Fortissa and Tondwell say together.

“You know the consequences, Tondwell.”

Fortissa’s features show their struggle for a moment longer, but then they fall still.

“Fortissa?” Tolmet says.

A blue flash lights the entire plaza, and Fortissa vanishes.

The slash meant to decapitate Tolmet stops in Indessa’s hand, which flares with a Trait that is not hers. The impact shockwave blows the top of the staircase apart. Rubble and royalty tumble towards the crowd, which screams and panics but cannot move.

Despite this, only Indessa lands amidst the crowd in a three-point-pose that shatters the cobbles. Everything else floats in place.

“Let’s do the plan!” Riyo yells, leaping into the air and landing on the back of the flailing, airborne princess. “You’re coming with us, ghost king.”

Tolmet and Cotter Lee drift to the ground as the people at the edge of the plaza finally take a hint and begin to fray away. The whole crowd writhes like a wounded beast as the centre puts more pressure on the rim. Chaos reigns below, but Riyo rides her royal captive away from the drawbridge.

“Get off me!” Tondwell yells, and Riyo begins to feel cold. In a matter of seconds, she feels as though she is trapped in a glacier, and she pushes off the princess to land back on the staircase to nowhere, shivering. She feels the overlap of yet another reality on her own, and a chain lashes out from the drawbridge to arrest the princess’s flight.

With a clatter of reeling chain, the drawbridge falls and crashes into the ground. The plaza shakes, and a portion of the panicked crowd loses its feet. Momber Maul roars, making the drawbridge creak with his massive footfalls. Behind him, a legion of guards marches forth. Their every step comes down in time to make a metal drumbeat on the wood.

Indessa bounds off the side of the staircase and slashes a crackling blue hand through the chain around her sister’s foot, shattering it into nothing. A pair of similarly blue arrows smash into the drawbridge gate, driving the Iron Pillowcase aside and keeping her from grabbing Fortissa again.

Riyo grins, but it fades as Momber swings his club, blowing the staircase to smithereens. She rides the fall along with the debris, keeping it from showering the mass of civilians still trying to escape the plaza and coming to rest atop one of the fragments. Momber reaches for the floating princess, and with two realities overlapping hers on top of his cyclops resistance, she is powerless to stop him.

Emerald isn’t, though. She meets the cyclops’ outstretched hand with a kick that arrests his momentum and sends him stumbling back. His massive greave comes down on a pair of puppet guards, flattening them into the cobbles.

Several chains streak towards the crowd, and Riyo is forced to retract her reality to keep them from making skewers of the people of Saviour’s Call. Princess Fortissa drops to the cobbles and begins walking back through the stream of guards. Riyo scowlsand glances towards Ravi, but he and Rolleck are engaged with the guards, trying to keep Tolmet and Cotter Lee from being overwhelmed.

Snow rises from the moat, water flash-freezing in an instant and driving up into the bottom of the drawbridge. With an anguished crunch, the wood begins to splinter. Snow reaches between its boards and freezes into lumps of ice that drive them apart. In a handful of moments, all that is left is kindling wrapped around a spiny pillar of ice.

“Good job, Glitter,” Riyo shouts, bounding over towards the gate and dragging her rubble with her. She strafes the Iron Pillowcase with clumps of rock, forcing her to defend herself and keeping her from assisting Fortissa.

More snow rushes in amongst the puppet guards, then swirls around Fortissa. Blue flame rushes to life around her, rebuffing the snow. It freezes solid, creating a circle of guard shaped statues. Fortissa makes to jump over them, but Indessa is above her. Her blank eyes widen as Indessa’s heel comes down into her hastily raised sword and slams her back to Valos with a crash of shattering cobbles.

The two princesses face off in their circle of unseeing spectators.

“This is foolishness, Talbot!” Tondwell says.

“We just need to know why,” Indessa says. “Why do you serve that creature?”

“I serve Frosthold!” Tondwell yells, driving forward.

Indessa bats the thrust aside, Talbot’s Trait flaring from her hand. The Chill leaks from both of them, sparking impossibly cold flames in the air around them as they trade blows back and forth. Indessa’s fist and feet keep her sister’s sword from piercing her, but Tondwell’s form has no fault and his reach is far greater. She bounces around their arena, defending for her life and hoping for an opening that Talbot knows will not appear. His brother has remained ahead of him across thirty-four years of life and nearly four hundred of death. Blue light flashes and reflects off steel, and Talbot feels his Trait beginning to fail.

Fortissa’s attention flickers over Indessa’s shoulder, her inhuman eyes widening. The tip of her sword dips, and Indessa leaps into a kick that cracks her sister’s breastplate and sends her flying back into the frozen puppets. Bits of armour clatter off in every direction, and Fortissa comes to rest near the foot of what was once an earthen staircase. A moment later, ice crystals flash around her and a cage appears.

“I got her!” Glitter yells.

Indessa looks behind her. There is a child standing just inside the circle. He is perhaps ten years old, and his clothing is worn and dirty. He stares at her with teary eyes for a moment, then runs towards where the crowd has finally thinned to its last few terrified members. They shove between those brave and foolish enough to have stopped by the edge of the plaza to watch. The boy vanishes amongst them.

Emerald smashes into more of the frozen guards and scrapes up a furrow of cobbles before coming to a rest. She clambers to her feet and spits out a glob of steaming blood.

“We got what we came for, right?”

Indessa looks away from where the boy disappeared and nods.

“Let’s get out of here, then. Riyo!”

Riyo glances around at the roar of her name and sees a twinkling cage full of princess. She shoves aside some more chains, then pushes. Even with all the limitations on her, it is enough to send the Iron Pillowcase tumbling towards the keep and give her enough time to fall back to her friends.

Something flickers on the edge of her senses as she touches down beside Indessa, and she blows out her reality just as darkness closes in on them once more. Tolmet cries out, and she feels his reality close. It is just as well, since with the darkness comes pressure.

“It’s lighter, this time,” she shouts, eyes roving the melee to make sure all her friends and allies are inside her reality. “The king is still inside the keep.”

“Let’s go,” Indessa says.

Snow pools beneath the cage, carrying it like driftwood on a river towards the back of the plaza.

Riyo winces as a strange sensation overcomes her. It feels as though something is tearing at her skin. Darkness begins leaking into her reality like water through a damaged roof, and she realises it has somehow torn her reality open.

The leak becomes a flood, and a great black hand emerges from the pool and lunges for Fortissa’s cage.

“Hell no,” Riyo growls, slamming the weight of a world down on the inky appendage. It hits the cobbles and smashes them. Cracks rush across the plaza as it is pulled down towards the centre of Valos. The whole square begins to slant inwards towards the central point.

“Go!” Riyo screams.

Indessa nods and leaps onto the cage. Ravi and Rolleck disengage from the puppets, Ravi sending a pair of arrows to blow apart the ones pressing in on prince Tolmet.

Another pair of shadowy hands claw their way out of the pool of darkness, and Riyo has nothing left. The cage is too far for them to reach, now, but one of them clutches Cotter Lee by the waist. The other gets hold of Tolmet’s ankle, and both snap back with frightening speed, flinging the two swordsmen out into the black.

“No!” Indessa screams, taking a step towards the edge of the cage. Her body seizes up.

I’m sorry, Talbot says.

“Let me go, Tal!”

If you try, you will be captured, too.

Indessa screams again, wordless and terrified, but Talbot keeps control of the waltz, and the cage slides back into the morning sunlight on the edge of the plaza.

Riyo flings herself after it, coming to a stumbling halt in the middle of the street opposite where the drawbridge had once been. A dome of pure black covers the entire keep for a moment longer, then sucks inwards as though there is a black hole at its centre.

“We have to go back,” Indessa says. “We have to save them.”

Riyo closes her reality and everybody winces.

“We will,” Riyo pants. “But we have to know what we’re up against.”

Immanuel the drake skids out of a side alley on all-fours and comes barrelling towards them.

“What happened?” he says through misted breath.

“We got Fortissa,” Emerald says. “But the Darkness took Lee and the Prince.”

“Shit,” he looks at Indessa, who is still unable to move. “We should have been here.”

“Where were you?” Rolleck asks.

“With Cotter Lee too busy to close Longshank’s escape route, the human guards were able to push into the hideout. We repelled them with the Underlords, but we have casualties.”

“Let’s fall back as far as whichever entrance you came out of,” Riyo says. “We need to get the ghost talking as quickly as possible.” She looks up to Indessa. “We’ll get them back. I promise.”

 

 

 

Cotter Lee awakes in a room dimly lit by a single, wavering candle. It stands free, in a puddle of wax, in the centre of a wooden table. The walls it doesn’t quite light are the old, dense stone of the keep. The edge of the light lunges towards him, then flickers away across the floor like an animal uncertain whether he is safe to approach.

“You have been a bane, Cotter Lee,” a long-dead voice says. “A thorn in my side.”

“Good,” Cotter says. He is tied to a chair with thick chains that wrap around his wrists and ankles far too many times. The king speaks to him from the darkness. Or, rather, the Darkness speaks to him from the king.

“We will always have the time to overcome such obstacles,” the Darkness says. “And sometimes, triumphing over them is enough to be its own reward. Sometimes, though, there is no reward. Sometimes you step on an insect, only to find another over there, and another by the window, and another beneath the table. Sometimes, the problems are so small that there is no joy in solving them. And there is always just one more.”

“What are you?” Cotter asks, licking his dry lips. “What do you want?”

“Why, everything, of course,” the Darkness says. The king steps into the light of the candle. He is smiling, and Cotter can almost reconcile his visage with the man who had stepped forth from the keep all those years ago to proudly announce the birth of his twin daughters. The man whose eyes had sparkled with life and joy. Those eyes are now dull. That smile is now rigid and painful.

“For us, nothing short will do. And rejoice, Cotter Lee, for now you will help us obtain it.”

He steps forward again and covers Cotter’s mouth with his hand. His fingers are impossibly strong, and for a moment Cotter thinks his jaw will be crushed. Then he feels something ooze into his mouth. He tries to scream, but the darkness fills his windpipe, and then his eyes. The blackness hurts, and hurts, and won’t stop hurting.

 

 

In a cage, in a cave, beneath a pub called The Pillar of Autumn, sit a princess and a ghost. The princess is cold and scared, the ghost, still and angry. Before them is arrayed a fantastic collection of nonsense, and the most nonsensical element steps forward to speak to them, an angry face drawn on its glass front.

“Start talking, dirtbag,” Glitter says. His father used to read exciting stories to him every night before his body was completed, so he knows exactly how to get information out of prisoners.

“Stand down, Inquisitor,” Rolleck says. “I think this one needs a more personal touch.”

“Aww,” Glitter says.

Indessa moves over to the side of the cage Fortissa is sitting on. She sits down, her back to the wall, and looks at her sister for a long moment. Then, with a flash, Talbot steps out of her. He walks over to the other side of the cage and looks down at his brother. There is symmetry between the two sets of siblings, but it only works to highlight their differences.

“I’m sorry, Fortissa,” Indessa says.

“For what?”

“For a lot of things. For the way this has all turned out.”

“How has this tuned out, Indy?” She reaches through the bars and almost touches her sister’s hand, but doesn’t. “What’s happening?” The last is said through tears.

“Our father is dead.”

Fortissa sobs. She hates the words, but only because she has been denying them in her heart for such a long time.

“Something is controlling him. Something dark.”

“Why are you helping it, Tondwell?” Talbot asks.

His brother does not look at him. Instead, he stares at the floor.

“I do everything for the sake of this country,” he says.

“And how does this serve Frosthold?”

Tondwell does look up, then, and his handsome face is distorted by a snarl of anger. “It stops it from being destroyed! It keeps that creature from bathing the land in murderous darkness, from wilting the trees and starving the animals, from drying the rivers and lake. It stops it from killing all of us! It stops it from killing…” He deflates, returning his gaze to the floor and dropping his voice to naught but a whisper. “It stops it from killing her.”

“Who?”

“Sanella.”

If Talbot had a heart that beat, it would have stopped doing so.

“She… She is alive?”

“In whatever sense that we still live, yes.”

“Where is she?”

“It has her. And now, thanks to you, it will kill her.”

Talbot leans forward, puts his hands against the bars. Glitter’s ice is not normal. It is imbued with an energy that matches that which makes up their ghostly forms, so he cannot pass through it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is soft. “Four hundred years since we died, and you let me think she was gone.”

“If you didn’t know, the Darkness had nothing to control you with. If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t run blindly into the black and be lost to me as well. As long as you didn’t know, you could live your unlife free of this burden. This leash.”

“So you protect me. Again.” Talbot slams a fist into the bars, making them crackle.

“Be angry, if you want,” Tondwell says. “But I would do it again. I have always loved you, Talbot. Protecting you. Protecting my family.” He glances at the twin princesses. “That has always been the thing that gave me the most joy. That is why what happened four hundred years ago was my greatest misery, and why I have done everything since to keep it from happening again.”

“But you failed,” Fortissa says. Her quiet words make Tondwell wince.

“Yes. Tilch lived such a wonderful life up until your mother took ill that I was content to just watch it unfold. I never wanted to rule eternally, so I only ever appeared to aid my family when they truly needed me. The Darkness held Sanella over me, but it was biding its time. It struck before I could do anything. Tilch… After Malory died, he was heartbroken. I made a mistake – showed myself in an effort to comfort him in his grief. He took it as a sign that his wife could still be brought back, still be saved. The Darkness exploited those feelings, drove him to greater and greater madness, until he opened the vault.”

“That place beneath the dungeon,” Talbot said. “What is it?”

“It’s the Reach,” Tondwell says. “The incursion beneath the lake was the main tendril, but a second, much smaller connection was made with our world. The Darkness came through it, came to whisper in my ear. I didn’t know what it was, then. How could I? But it told me it could help me. That it knew how to push the incursion back.”

“But… The incursion barely threatened us, except at the end?”

“And why do you think that is?” Tondwell growls. He looks around and picks out Riyo, lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling. “You’re the girl from Ragg, the one that seeks the stone. You know what the Reach births.”

“It’s a pretty endless tide,” Riyo says, without looking round. “Titans are kind of rare, but there’s basically an infinite army marching out into the Plains of Chaos.”

“Our incursion was little more than a trickle…” Talbot says.

“Because the Darkness made it so,” Tondwell says. “Not, as it told me, by manipulating the Reach and turning aside most of the nightmares, but simply by deciding not to let more through. I thought it was helping us. When I saw that titan rise from the lake, it gave me only one choice. It needed a body to fight with, and in my fear for you I gave it mine. By the time the World Force archcrafter destroyed it, it was too late.”

The cave is silent for a moment, but Indessa cannot bear it any longer.

“How can we kill it?”

“I don’t know,” Tondwell says. “But it feeds on life. It was constantly talking about its hunger, its need for more power. It said, ‘Once we pass the Crux, it will all be over.’”

Indessa grits her teeth. “So, what happens to the people taken to the keep?”

“They are sacrificed,” Tondwell says. “Cast into the Reach. Three every day.”

Somebody slams a door in the pub far above them, and their silence is so complete that it reverberates off the walls of the cave.

Ravi stands up and stretches. “Let’s go.”

Riyo rises from the ground and spins to her feet. “Right. I need to get my sword back.”

“What’s the plan?” Emerald says.

“There isn’t one,” Riyo says. “I don’t want to think about food right now.”

Rolleck rolls his eyes. “The ghost king forced the Darkness out once, right?” He looks at Tondwell. “If I recall, it was shortly after his son was born.”

“I had to,” Tondwell says. “I… It was better that he grew up without a father than with that thing controlling me.”

“So, we know it can be pushed out, and that strong feelings for one’s family can give a person the strength to do it.” He looks to Indessa and Fortissa. “You said you saw your father, or his spirit, at least, which means his mind is still in there. Maybe you can convince him to fight it.”

Fortissa looks across at Indessa. This time when she reaches through the bars, she does grab her hand. Indessa turns sightless eyes to her sister for a moment, then nods.

“That deals with stage one,” Rolleck says.

“Then Riyo can close the incursion,” Glitter says.

“Assuming she knows how.”

“No idea,” Riyo says. “But it needs to be done, so I’ll do it.”

“Seriously?” Ravi says. “You said your master was an archcrafter.”

“He is, but apparently you don’t get to learn how to close incursions until you’re inducted into the Force. I didn’t get that far yet. Everything I know about incursions comes from the apothacarium.”

“Well then,” Rolleck says. “We’ve got a couple of ideas that might work. Let’s go.”

“You’re all insane,” Tondwell says. He is watching them in disbelief. “You do not know what that thing is capable of.”

“That’s true,” Riyo says. “But it doesn’t know what we’re capable of, either.”

Talbot walks around the cage and offers a hand to Indessa. Though her eyes now show only blackness, her spectral sight picks out spirits in the void like glorious angels, wreathed in blue light. She smiles at him and takes the hand. With a roar of flame and a flash of blue she stands alone again, but not alone.

Glitter breaks a bar of the cage and Fortissa steps out. She grabs Indessa around the waist and hugs her close in spite of her armour.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “All this time I thought I couldn’t face you, I was selfishly hiding from my guilt. I’ve been so cruel to you, and yet you’ve become so brilliant anyway.” She steps back, and there are fresh tears in the corners of her eyes. “After… After all this, I will do anything I must to make you forgive me.”

“It’ll be a long list,” Indessa says.

Fortissa smiles through her tears. “I hope it is.”

Glitter makes to fix the cage, then hesitates.

“Um,” he says.

Fortissa glances at him, then turns to face Tondwell.

“I…” he says, then lowers his forehead to the floor. “I am sorry. I hurt you. I thought it would protect you, but that is an unworthy excuse. Even if my actions thus far have protected Frosthold, they will no longer. If… if you must insist on fighting this creature, please take me with you. If you will let me, I would like you to let me protect my family but once more. This time, on your terms.”

Fortissa is silent for a moment.

“My hands aren’t clean, either,” she says. “Let’s earn our forgiveness together.”

“Thank you,” Tondwell says.

Indessa touches Immanuel on the shoulder. “Rally everyone we have. Tell them what you’ve just heard and get them to spread it to everyone in the city. Start close to the keep. Convince as many people as you can to evacuate.”

“What of the guards? They will try to enter the hideout again.”

Indessa shakes her head. “Pull everybody out of the hideout. The war ends today, one way or another. If we fail… If we fail, withdraw as far from Saviour’s Call as possible. All the way to the Everstall Song, if you have to.”

Immanuel pauses for a moment. “If this is to be the final battle, we three should be with you.”

“You have given more than three years of your life to a war that isn’t yours, Immanuel. You came here with a mission, one that you’ve abandoned for the sake of a man who only showed you the kindness he shows everybody. Return to it.”

“What is your mission, by the way?” Riyo says, butting into the conversation as if she’d been in it from the start.

“Our prince-”

“I knew it,” Riyo says before he can finish. “We met him, right?”

“L’Sweren Riss, is it not?” Emerald says.

Immanuel tilts his head slightly. “Yes.”

“He was working with a group of bandits, led by the former sheriff of Saviour’s Call.”

“Bit of an arsehole, actually,” Rolleck says.

“Oh, we know,” Immanuel says. “Our mission was to kill him.”

“Oh,” Emerald says. “Why?”

“He stole something when he was exiled. Something very important to our kind. The king and queen decided that, on top of his previous crimes, it was too great a sin to let pass. Even if he is their son.”

“He was in Coldton until recently,” Glitter says. “But he said he wouldn’t come back.”

“I see…” Immanuel grunts in frustration. “We gave up the chase because the trail grew too cold for even us to follow. To hear he was so close all this time is… agitating. Even so, the chase can be resumed once Saviour’s Call is finally free. I admit what we have done seems too much to repay the initial favour, but we have all been convinced by the righteousness of your cause. We have been fighting with you because it is the right thing to do.”

Indessa stares at him for a moment, then sighs. “Very well. Begin the evacuation, then come and join us at the keep.”

“Yes, your highness,” Immanuel says.

Indessa punches him and he winces, but he is still grinning.

“Get going,” she says, “or we’ll have cleared the place out and closed the incursion before you’re done.”

Immanuel turns and heads down into the darkness of the tunnel, while the rest of them climb back up towards the beer cellar of the Pillar of Autumn.

 

 

The square before what was once a drawbridge is empty. The citizens have fled, to cower in their homes or to seek salvation outside Saviour’s Call. The morning wears on towards noon and the sun beats through a layer of insipid cloud to cast seven weak shadows across a field of broken cobbles. They stand before a stagnant moat full of shattered planks.

Glitter raises the water. He feeds on its energy until it forms a bridge of ice across to the portcullis. Riyo glares at the iron bars and they flee from her, bending and snapping until a hole forms that allows the seven to pass.

Atop the hill, before a battered keep, stands Momber Maul. Much of his armour is damaged, now, but he wears it still. It looks just like the armour worn by the rest of the guard, and his tabard bears the proud blue Frostburne flame. He sees the invaders’ return the moment they appear in the gatehouse square, and he hefts his club. He remembers standing here, in this spot, nearly twenty years ago. No armour, no weapon. No home, no family. He glances back at the balcony above the keep door. Now collapsed on one side, he sees it whole. He sees Tilch Frostburne, smiling, his wife at his side. He sees his son standing bravely before him and his two tiny daughters peering from behind him. Offering him all the things he did not have.

He turns back to the hill and watches those two girls, now women, marching towards him.

“They will come around, Momber,” Rintin says.

A pair of her chains connect the surviving south tower to the courtyard below, and she stands at the point where they cross. The head of a morning star dangles from a short chain attached to the stump of her arm, its spikes glinting in the noon sunlight. She watches the invaders with a deep scowl and persistently scratches at the bandages around her injury.

“I don’t like to see them fight, Rintin,” Momber says. “I don’t want to fight them, either. I just want them all to be happy again.”

“I told you not to call me that,” she says.

“Oh. Sorry. I like your name, though.”

“That makes one of us.”

“Okay,” Momber says. The invaders have almost reached the top of the steps that spill out into the ruined courtyard. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to let the girls through to see their father.”

“That’s good,” Momber says. “And we’ll smash the other ones, right?”

“Yes,” she says, narrowing her eyes. Momber cannot tell if her mouth makes a cruel smile or an angry grimace. He still isn’t brilliant at reading human facial expressions, even after all these years and all the time Tolmet spent pulling faces at him to help him learn.

“We’ll smash the others. The ones that took the princesses away.”

Momber nods, and as the invaders enter the courtyard, he roars his challenge.

 

“We need to go quickly,” Indessa says. “We don’t know how long Cotter and Tolmet have.”

“Poor Momber,” Fortissa says. “This must be hard for him.”

“What do we do?” Glitter says.

“Emerald?” Riyo says.

Emerald cracks her neck to one side and then the other. “Sure.”

“This is a selfish request,” Fortissa says, turning to her. “But please don’t kill him. Cyclopes are not as intelligent as us. I’m sure you know their reputation. He is being led astray, just as Tolmet and I were.”

Emerald blows out a breath. “You’re right. That is selfish, coming from you.”

Fortissa winces.

“Emerald,” Riyo says again.

“I know. I know. I wasn’t going to.”

“The aim is to be better than them, right?” Ravi says.

Riyo nods. “That’s it. You’re staying too, then?”

“Yeah.” Ravi pulls his bow over his shoulder. “I really hurt her, last time. I need to apologise.”

“Okay, you two make us a gap, the rest of us will push through to the keep.” Riyo opens her reality. “Let’s do the thing, Glitter.”

“Ohhh,” Glitter says. “I don’t really like the thing.”

Emerald and Ravi move forward together. Ravi flips an arrow onto his bowstring while Emerald stretches her wings.

“I’ll go first,” Emerald says. “Keep her from tying me up.”

“It can’t be comfortable, can it?”

“Huh?”

“Those chains,” Ravi says. It doesn’t seem fair that her appearance still sparks heat in his cheeks even after everything that happened the previous day.

Emerald shrugs. “I don’t think either of us is in a position to comment on the way others dress.”

“Yeah, but… It goes right up.”

“I’m going to punch the cyclops, now,” Emerald says.

“Yeah, okay.”

Emerald leaps forward and roars forth a ball of flame that enshrouds half of the courtyard. Indigo light casts shame on the light of the sun for a moment, but the shimmering haze burns out quickly. Momber Maul is not fooled. His eye pierces the veil of fire as if it is not there, and the dragon that flits behind it, trying to hide her movements, has instead only blinded herself. With a roar, he throws his fist out to meet her.

A flash of blue light dents his gauntlet and jars his arm just as the dragon realises her mistake. Her claws graze his armour as she uses the impact to avoid the punch, then she spins and spits a lance of liquid fire away from him. It slams into a ball of spiked steel that is flying towards Ravi, making the Iron Pillowcase tsk.

Emerald folds her wings and drops, letting the cyclops’ backhand rush over her head, then bounds back towards Ravi.

“His eyesight is as good as mine,” Ravi says. “Better, maybe.”

“Yeah. That could have been bad.”

“I think I’m better suited to fighting the crafter in the long run,” Ravi says, “but for the purpose of getting the others into the keep, let’s switch.”

“Deal.”

Ravi pulls an arrow to his cheek and fires it at the slit in the cyclops’ helmet. He is not fast enough to get his hand in the way in time, but he is fast enough to turn his head so that the arrow warps the metal below the slit. The feathered haft sticks out of a small crater in the steel – a threat that a few more well-placed shots could break through the armour completely. His hand blocks the next shot in response, and Ravi keeps the barrage going.

The Iron Pillowcase takes another shot at Ravi as soon as he fires the first arrow. Emerald leaps into its path and spikes it into the ground, sending a gout of earth into the air. She then breathes another firescreen along its chain, making the crafter scowl as she is engulfed.

A flash of cold air marks Glitter’s passage between the fireball and the cyclops. His smooth glass face offers little friction on his slick of mirror-like ice, and, propelled by Riyo’s reality, he swishes through the centre of the courtyard with a high-pitched wail of speed and a cackle of Riyo’s enthusiastic laughter. Two princesses, possessed by two ghostly princes, cling to his back – all four wide-eyed and white-knuckled. Rolleck sits with his legs hanging off the back and throws a casual wave at Ravi as they zip by.

“Door, Rolleck!” Riyo yells.

Rolleck spins to his feet, a wash of pain rippling through him as wires tighten in his arm. His sword rips the air, sending a blade of pressure first up one side of the doors and then down the other, just as Glitter impacts the wood. Both doors, freed of their hinges, fly inwards and crash to the floor, muted by the lavish carpet of the entrance hall.

They skid to a stop before a grand staircase, but Glitter keeps wailing while his passengers disembark.

Riyo slaps him on the back. “Good work, Glitter.”

“Why couldn’t you do the door?” Rolleck asks.

“Saving my juice,” Riyo says. “I might have to keep the Darkness busy again and it’s bloody monstrous.”

“That’s wise,” Fortissa says. “I am unsure what we will be able to do if it brings its full strength to bear against us.”

“I think it’s getting weaker,” Riyo says.

“Huh?” Indessa says.

“Well, it was affecting a wider area last time, admittedly,” Riyo says. “But my instinct says its power isn’t like mine. It won’t come back if it kicks back for a while. It’s making sacrifices for a reason, and then there was that thing about a Crux point, or something?”

“You actually heard that?” Rolleck says.

“Hey. Sometimes I pay attention. My point is, it’s building power for something, which means slapping me down yesterday and kidnapping your brother and your lover earlier cost it some of that power.”

“Cotter’s not…” Indessa says, then blushes.

“You and Talbot suit each other,” Fortissa says with Tondwell’s smile.

“Shut up.”

“So, we maybe have a chance?” Glitter says, finally standing up and reabsorbing his snow.

“Maybe,” Riyo says.

Somebody clears their throat at the top of the stairs.

“Is this the nonsense that convinced you to turn your back on your own father, girls?”

The balcony that runs around the upper floor of the entrance hall is packed with guardsmen. Their identical, hollow vision slits stare down at them with empty malice. The voice issues from one of them and echoes around the hall.

“Oh no!” Glitter says. “How will we find the real one?”

“It’s the one with moustaches sticking out of his helmet,” Indessa says, pointing to a guard a little off to the left of the one standing at the top of the stairs.

“Oh.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment.

Captain Longshank clears his throat again. “Nevertheless,” he says.

“I can deal with this,” Rolleck says. “Get going.”

“Um,” Fortissa says.

“No killing. I know.”

“Thank you.”

“You sure you can do that?” Riyo asks.

“Sure. Call it a handicap. Like doing forms with weights on my wrists.”

“Can you do that?”

“Begone,” Rolleck says, waving them forward.

“We’ll go to the throne room,” Indessa says. “It’s the quickest way to the dungeon.”

“You will go nowhere,” Longshank says. A number of his puppets around the gallery raise crossbows.

“Glitter,” Riyo says, “cover the stairs.”

“Yes!” Snow rushes up towards Longshank, like a waterfall in reverse. It builds a corridor of crushed ice, one Glitter wide, that begins eating crossbow bolts as they run into it.

“It won’t be that easy!” Longshank shouts.

Two animated armours burst through the snow on either side as they reach the top of the stairs. Each is far more ornate than the standard guards, and each bears the arms of the Frostburne family etched into its breastplate.

Fortissa catches a sword as elegant as her own, cold blue light flashing through the icy corridor. Indessa stops a falling hammer with her fist, Trait rolling down her arm from the blow. Snow flurries, then catches in the air as Glitter brings it under his control.

“No,” Fortissa says.

“You’ve desecrated our family, Longshank!” Indessa screams, backing away from the new armour. “How can you still serve our father when he asked you to do this!”

To the princesses’ eyes, these suits are both familiar. And they aren’t empty.

“Our kingdom is threatened like never before,” Longshank shouts as the armours advance again. “Your family is divided. Your ancestors can help to make it whole again.”

The ghost of Illiana Frostburne hefts her hammer. Through the bars of her helmet, Indessa can see her crying.

We ghosts have power over the realm beyond, but even the greatest of us struggle to touch the world of the living, Tondwell tells Fortissa. We need a host to waltz with, or to sap power from. Without such an advantage, we are best served by hiding ourselves away from your world, lest someone find a way to exploit us. But… Longshank should not be able to see us. We should be safe from him.

Rolleck kicks the door open and it slams against the wall.

“Go,” he says. “I said I’d deal with this. You have people to save.”

“But,” Fortissa says, glancing at him as she backs away from the ghost of her great-great-great grandfather, Torus Frostburne. “These are two of the greatest fighters of our line.”

“I know,” Rolleck says. The voice says as much. It is laughing. His sword is eager. Excited. He can feel the wires inside him tightening, but this time he will be equal to them. His left eye glows, hot and red.

Riyo gives him a lopsided look. “Don’t overdo it, okay?”

“Like you can talk.”

“I suppose. Okay. Let’s go, your majesties.”

Indessa glances at Rolleck. “I get the feeling you haven’t been trying very hard,” she says. “Do you have a reason to, now?”

“She told me to,” he says, jerking his head towards Riyo.

“Uh-huh,” Indessa says, but she finds she can’t hold his eyes for very long. “Fortissa, let’s go.”

“But,” Fortissa says.

Your father must be stopped, Fortissa, Tondwell says. And only you and your sister can do it.

In her moment of indecision, Torus lunges at her. The queasy blue flicker of ghostwork flashes inside his armour, making his blade a lightning strike.

Rolleck steps in front of Fortissa and turns it wide, then spins and grabs the haunted armour by the forearm. He continues the spin and uses the momentum to throw Torus down the stairs, then thrusts to meet Illiana’s hammer as it comes down. The tip of his sword sticks several centimetres into the flat of the hammer, and the attack comes to an immediate halt that seems to shake the hall.

“Go,” Rolleck says through gritted teeth.

Fortissa backs through the door as the guards close in around Rolleck, then turns and runs after her sister.

“You will not stop me alone, swordsman,” Longshank says, and his voice seems to come from all of his automatons at once.

“Unfortunately,” Rolleck says, shoving Illiana’s armour away and raising his sword, “I am never alone.”

Empty, the voice says.

“Not all of them,” Rolleck says, and grins.

 

 

The path through the keep to the throne room is much more lavishly decorated than the side corridors Riyo saw when she was brought here as a captive. Wall sconces of crafted silver light their way over rich, red carpet, interspersed with stern portraits of the Frostburne line. The hallway is wide, and branching corridors are hidden by oaken doors all along its length.

A short set of steps spills them into another grand hall. Pennants bearing the Frostburne crest drip from the upper gallery, and a grand banner hides the entire back wall with the image. Streaks of sunlight paint the floor from arrow slits in the walls on either side and shine between stone pillars, marking a path up the centre of the hall towards a throne of wood and gold.

The throne is occupied.

“Tolmet,” Fortissa shouts, running forward. The prince’s eyes are closed, his head drooping to one side.

“Wait!” Indessa says.

Cotter Lee spins from behind the last pillar, his sword a guillotine aimed at Fortissa’s neck.

A wicked blue flash brings Fortissa’s sword into its path, and the blades ring together like a death knell. Fortissa is thrown back down the hall and crashes into a snowdrift.

“Cotter!” Indessa says. “What are you doing?!”

“Something’s wrong,” Riyo says. “He wasn’t that strong before.”

Cotter Lee looks up at them, grinning through his stubble. His eyes are pits of darkness, colder than the void of space.

“No,” Indessa says, the pain of loss softening her voice to but a whisper.

“They both still live, Indy,” Fortissa says, bolder than she feels. “We can still save them.”

There is laughter. It seems to come from within the walls.

“Groven,” Fortissa growls.

“What?” Groven says, still lost in the broken shadows created by flickering torches and muted sunlight. “You think the power of love can save them?”

Tolmet opens his eyes, and they match Cotter’s.

“You think my master is so weak that his control over these flimsy puppets could be broken by their feelings? That was your plan, right? To banish one of the Misfortunes by pleading with the corpse of your father?” Laughter rings through the hall again, and this time Cotter and Tolmet join in. Their mirth is stilted and uncomfortable to listen to.

“Their souls are gone,” Groven says. “All that remains are husks – strong bodies we can use to-”

A whip-crack of snow slashes through the room, plunging into the depths of the shadows at the base of a pillar behind them and yanking Groven out. Ice gathers beneath shocked eyes, sealing his mouth.

“You talk a lot,” Glitter says. “But being quiet is an important social skill, too.”

“I’m not sure you’ve quite grasped that lesson yet, Glitter,” Riyo says, but she is smiling.

“Oh,” Glitter says, unsealing Groven’s mouth and drawing himself a blushing face. “Sorry.”

“How…?” Groven manages, still dangling from the snow.

“No, no,” Riyo says. “You did good, Glitter.”

Groven overcomes his shock, and a trait wreathed dagger smashes through Glitter’s snow, dropping him to the ground. He slinks backwards warily, and then is gone.

“He left,” Glitter says, drawing on a frowny face. “Should I chase him?”

“No,” Riyo says. “If the Darkness throws everything it has at me, it might be all I can do to keep my reality open. I might need you to fight him in my place.”

“Okay…” Glitter watches back the way they have come. He felt the ligmist man flutter away in that direction. He worries about the others, but Riyo is right. The main threat is the Darkness.

Tolmet and Cotter begin laughing their unsettling laugh again.

“What do we do?” Fortissa says, glancing towards Riyo. “We need to get to father, too.”

“I’m not leaving him here,” Indessa says, fists clenched by her side.

Can you really fight them? Talbot says.

Indessa smiles cold. “Oh, you bet I can. I owe both of them a piece of my damn mind.”

The shimmer of steel on leather twinkles through the room. A pair of swords taste the air and find it disappointingly bloodless. Their owners smile crooked hatred beneath eyes filled with nothingness.

“Indy…”

“Go,” Indessa says. “Free dad’s spirit. It’s the only way any of us get out of this alive.”

Trust your family, Fortissa, Tondwell says. She can feel his pride. In his brother. In Indessa. In her.

Fortissa nods and turns away. One of the stones in the north wall depresses beneath her gauntlet and triggers the mechanism that hides the door to the dungeon.

“The master…” Cotter says, his voice coarse and uneven.

“Will not…” Tolmet says.

“Be stopped.”

Both of them are very still, no hint of intent, or even life, in their bodies. Their gazes are locked on Fortissa, but she does not look back. The steps before her are dark and steep, spiralling away into the hungry earth. Her sword kindles with blue flame, the blade riming from the Chill. It casts a flickering blue-white illumination into the stairwell. She takes the first step.

The statues break, their shadows lurching forward before their bodies. Cotter raises his sword in the air, while Tolmet thrusts for Fortissa’s back. The blade strikes the sole of Indessa’s foot and air ricochets around the throne room, sending pennants fluttering. Indessa stomps the blade down into the floor, leaning forward and driving her fist into her brother’s face. The Trait crackles, the Chill flares, and light fills the room like a lightning strike.

Tolmet bounces past Cotter and slides into the far wall, his armour clattering against the stone and his breath escaping in a groan. Cotter’s face makes a broken scowl, and he brings his blade down at the floor. The tip strikes sparks off the stone and skitters across it. Cotter looks up and growls.

“That’s not your curse, demon,” Indessa says, still wearing her fierce smile.

Tolmet regains his feet. A streak of black blood dribbles from his broken lip, but he does not wipe it away. His eyes are full of a spite that does not belong to him, and he and Cotter stare it at her as though they have the same face.

Indessa stares it back. She loves both of them, but she hates them, too. The neglect Tolmet showed her, the lies Cotter told her. The pain they have both put her through. To do that, and then go and get turned into monsters without so much as apologising first.

“Come on!” she shouts.

Indessa…

“I’ll show you both what it’s like to be hurt by someone you love!”

A rush of blue light echoes her battle cry as she charges.

 

 

“Wow,” Glitter says. He is struggling with these stairs. His little legs won’t reach down to the next one without him tipping his body past the point it overbalances, and so he has wrapped them in snow. It helps, but it also makes him tall enough to scrape his head on the ceiling. He is further hindered by the encroaching of the walls on either side. If the staircase becomes any narrower, he will simply be unable to fit.

“Huh?” Riyo says.

“Oh. Um. Princess Indessa is very… passionate.”

“You mean angry,” Fortissa says.

“Good job not actually saying it, though,” Riyo whispers, winking back at him.

“She has every right to be,” Fortissa says. “She turned against her family out of anger. It couldn’t have been easy. Then to be betrayed by those who took her in after that…”

“She’s pretty strong, huh?” Riyo says.

“Far stronger than me.”

“I want to be strong,” Riyo says. “Always have. It’s why I’m looking for the sunlight stone. I know this journey will make me strong, because I know finding the stone is something only someone strong could do.”

Glitter’s head scrapes against the ceiling again, and dust rains down on them.

“I’ve been on the lookout for strong people and stuff I can do to get stronger myself. And I’ve learned a lot about how to be strong. Turns out it’s not just punching people really far or being able to stand back up again after being dragged for a mile and a half behind a horse.”

“That’s quite specific,” Glitter says.

“Sometimes strength is about acceptance. Accepting who, or what, someone is. And that includes yourself. Accepting your own weakness is strength all by itself, because it’s actually really easy to turn your back on the truth or make excuses for yourself.”

“But… just knowing that I’m weak, that I’ve failed… It doesn’t change anything.”

“Sure it does.” Riyo pats the princess on the shoulder. “It changes you. And once you’re a different person, you’re not the one that failed anymore. You’re better. So maybe this time you won’t fail.”

“Maybe…” Fortissa says.

Something horrible touches her, then. It sends a shiver through her that makes the Chill of the Grave seem like a simmer breeze.

“Uh oh,” Glitter says.

Riyo scowls. “I know this feeling.”

“What is it?” Fortissa says.

It feels familiar to me, too, Tondwell says.

“It’s a nightmare,” Riyo says. “Some of the stronger ones release an echo of malice when they emerge from the Reach.”

That’s it. When the titan emerged from the lake. Though I was already in the Darkness’ power, I felt this sensation.

“If it’s calling for reinforcements then it must be scared,” Riyo says. “We need to make sure it can’t regain its strength.”

“If you are even right about the source of its strength,” Tondwell says through Fortissa.

“Let’s just hurry,” Fortissa says for herself. “It still has my father.”

“Right.”