Lodestone Book Six: Eternity's Shadow

By Mark Whiteway

Epic Alien Adventure!

With her old adversary, Glaisne, now loose on Helvena along with the fey creature, Ash, Keris of the Kelanni must risk everything by awakening an ancient power so dangerous that it could destroy both worlds...

The first Lodestone trilogy saw Keris of the Kelanni join a ragtag band to combat the ‘alien’ invasion of her world.

Five turns of the season have now passed. Keris receives a disturbing report of the theft of an ancient artefact. The perpetrator? Alexander McCann, the last human left on Kelanni!

When she tracks him down in a liquor den, the drunken McCann spins a fantastical tale. An ancient sphere recording claims that her people, the Kelanni, are alien invaders just as the humans were. Worse yet it tells of Ash, an all-powerful alien being, who almost destroyed her world in the in the distant past.

Now sinister forces are plotting his return.

Accompanied by McCann, Keris must travel to the ancient ruined city of Gal Mador, uncover the truth of her people’s dark past, and find a way to defeat an invincible alien foe...

Lodestone Book Four: Seeds Across the Sky

Lodestone Book Five: The Conquered Shore

Lodestone Book Six: Eternity’s Shadow

“The new characters slotted in seamlessly and really strengthened the storyline. I especially enjoyed the suspicion and mystery wrapped up in the fantasy packaging. This went deeper than the other novels and has taken a great deal of thought, care and attention. The sub-storylines and the testing of each character’s beliefs was excellent.
The twists and turns had me hanging onto every word. I didn’t want to put the book down. This book is a masterclass in how to create engaging characters in fantastical settings. It’s the best book yet. I do hope that there will be a follow-on.” Annette Young - The Creative Competitor.

“I have had the privilege of reading all six books of the Lodestone series. To me the way the author wrapped up the series is brilliant. The author is a bit of a poet and philosopher. I found tears running down my face as I was reading the last chapter.” Sandra Heptinstall - Midwest Book Review.
“Mark Whiteway's gifts go far beyond creating alien landscapes and imaginative technology. His complex characters and rich plots continue to fascinate long after the properties of lodestone have settled into the background.
“What stands out for me is the author's ability to take two alien beings, each as completely different from one another as they are from my human experience, and leave me feeling their connection to one another. That doesn't come from a wild and crazy imagination; that is the forte of the masterful observer of human behavior.
“Sometimes, when a series of novels reaches into five or more books, the plots can feel stilted and forced. Not so with the Lodestone series. Eternity's Shadow only deepens the intrigue and the machinations of beings vast and tiny, and leaves this reviewer eager for more.” Terence P Ward - Allbooks Review.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Whiteway
• Release date: Sep 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310037788

Mark Whiteway

Mark Whiteway (1959- ) lives in rural West Sussex, England, near the former home of H G Wells. The Lodestone series of novels is built around the concept of negative matter-an extension of Einstein's Theory of General Relativity. Mark lives with his wife Sandra.

Book preview

Chapter One

We are born, we live, and we die in eternity’s shadow.

The Chronicles of Shann—One Hundred and Thirteenth Stanza, Forty-Second Line

Leaving her soldier escort languishing at the tree line, Keris, former keltar, now head of the Division for the Maintenance of World Order, plunged into the forest’s heart. The hu-man Alexander Edward McCann dogged her steps.

The escort was Brant’s idea. He had stood in the doorway of her office in Chalimar, barring her path. May I ask the purpose of your journey, my lady?

A matter of planetary security. Her answer was deliberately evasive. It was not that she didn’t trust her punctilious deputy, but if he gained the slightest inkling of what she had planned, he would never have allowed her to leave.

To sidestep further interrogation, Keris had been forced to agree to a ridiculous fifty-strong escort, complete with old-style leather armour, bristling weapons, and fluttering banners displaying the two linked hemispheres that represented the united world of Kelanni. As they marched along roads, through towns and settlements, parents hoisted children onto their shoulders, and farm workers broke out in spontaneous cheering. She felt she was at the head of a parade, and she loathed every moment of it.

When they finally reached the edge of the Forest of Illaryon, Keris curtly ordered the escort captain to stay put then marched off into the forest with only McCann for company.

Despite his repugnant appearance, the hu-man was useful—provided Keris could keep him out of the liquor houses. More importantly, he was the only person on the planet, aside from the rebel keltar, who knew the contents of the First Sphere and the full truth of her people’s origins. For that reason alone, she preferred to have him close by.

Savage sunlight sliced through the early-morning air. The forest was the colour of fire; trees cast their crowns of orange, crimson, and gold together in a continuous canopy. Doe-eyed watchers shrieked alarm from the branches, and feathered flutterers, flushed from their bowers, flapped away in fright.

You seem in a hurry, McCann observed, puffing.

What of it? she said.

Oh, nothing. I was just wondering whether anyone else ever followed this trail of bread crumbs.

As usual, she only half understood the hu-man’s prattle. What are you talking about?

The civilisation that produced the spheres—didn’t anyone try to track down their sleeping ancestor?

Maybe they just couldn’t find her? Keris offered.

You mean, they didn’t possess your finely honed investigative skills. He chuckled. Well, I suppose that’s possible. But we’re talking about an advanced culture—around level twelve on the industrial scale, or so my datapad informs me. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him fiddling with the glowing device as he walked. That’s comparable with humans right now. They’d have machines that could detect chambers below ground as well as any energy output.

Energy output?

Well, it’s not my area of expertise, but I imagine if she’s being preserved in a comatose state, she would need to be hooked up to some kind of energy source.

And their machines could detect that?

Certainly.

Could… your machine do the same thing?

My datapad? Possibly. It would depend.

On what?

On the level of output and how deep it is. I’d also have to be in fairly close proximity. It’s a big planet.

Still, it was something to consider.

Broad leaves bowed beneath the weight of early-morning dew. A pair of tapering snouts covered in soft, dark fur poked out from a mossy, hair-lined nest partway up a tree and chattered at their passing.

Perhaps they just decided not to look? Keris said, thinking again of the civilisation that created the spheres. The keltar had burned down the Great Trees and wrested control of Kelanni from the planet creature. They weren’t about to give it back. What would have been the point of awakening the girl? You did find the cache of spheres in a hidden section of the ancient archive. They probably concluded it was best just to let her slumber on.

Let sleeping avatars lie, eh? Makes sense, I suppose. Though they must have figured Ash would find a way to return someday—a problem for some future generation to solve. Which brings me to another dilemma. Have you considered the dangers of what you’re proposing?

I don’t think a single Kelanni Ancient presents much of a threat.

McCann shook his head. I don’t mean that. I mean your intention to reestablish the connection to your home world. The Ancients destroyed Ash’s technology for a good reason—to stop him from using the power of this planet’s lodestone to enslave two worlds. Do we really want to let that genie out of the bottle?

She had no idea what a genie was but decided to let it pass. Glaisne has already opened the door. Simply closing it again isn’t an option. We need to use this opportunity to deal with Ash once and for all.

Isn’t that a huge risk? I mean, what if Ash returns here and establishes a bridgehead?

I believe there’s a way to minimise that possibility.

Really? Pray tell.

I’d rather not say at the moment, she replied. I have my reasons. Her plan was controversial—so much so that she didn’t want to reveal it to anyone outside her closest circle, and she was far from certain that that included the hu-man. Although paradoxically, he might well be the only one who would approve.

A high-pitched shriek shattered her pattern of thought. A trio of soaring fliers with crimson wings appeared over the treetops, circling slowly.

Wait here, she commanded.

What are you—?

The hu-man passed out of sight as she slipped through the trunks in serpentine silence.

~

As Keris approached the site of the disturbance, she slowed her pace and keened her senses. Her nostrils flared as they detected a sharp scent. The scent of terror. Of sudden death. Like the face of a familiar enemy, she had encountered it too many times to mistake it for anything else.

Staff in hand, she crept forwards.

She parted the foliage and saw a small clearing. A great white shape lay at the centre, wings splayed out, dark blood pooling on the ground. An adult Chandara.

Was it her former Chandara companion, Boxx? She knew of no way to tell the Chandara apart. Revulsion rose in her throat, seeking the release of a scream. She fought it down, reverting to a dispassionate trained investigator.

First secure the area. Keris swept the perimeter, but there were no discernable threats—nothing but the cooings and rustlings of innocent forest dwellers.

Approaching the adult Chandara, she noted the blood flow and spatter and followed them to the point of impact: the creature’s neck. Its throat was slit with a perfectly straight cut. A single, efficient stroke. A sharp weapon then—possibly a keltar staff?

She bent and touched the Chandara’s soft down. Still warm. This had happened very recently—she guessed within the past ornah.

Among the Kelanni, murder was rare. Of course, heated arguments arose from time to time. Tempers flared, and disputes got out of hand. Occasionally, an angry push or an ill-timed blow might result in an untimely death. But deliberate, premeditated murder…?

Yet the evidence was unmistakeable. Even more astounding, the victim was a Chandara. What possible reason could anyone have for murdering one of them?

The Kelanni and Chandara were both intelligent races, but they had very little in common. Although they both occupied the planet, they had almost no contact. Chandara speech and concepts were near unintelligible, but the creatures were totally peaceful and nonthreatening. That left motives of profit or gain, but the Chandara held no possessions; they did not even appear to comprehend the idea of ownership. Why would someone come all the way here, travel deep into the forest, and then murder one of these inoffensive creatures?

Wing beats sounded from high above. A pair of adult Chandara were descending. Maybe some answers at last?

They alighted in front of their fallen companion and stared at Keris with great golden eyes.

A bush rustled, and McCann stepped into the clearing. He looked Keris up and down, and she became aware that she was still standing over the body, diamond-bladed staff in hand.

Well, this could be a problem, he said.

Chapter Two

It wasn’t me, Keris hissed as she and McCann threaded their way through the trees with the adult Chandara at their rear and van.

No, McCann said, his voice flat. Of course not.

Look, it’s easy enough to prove. Check my staff. The blades are totally clean.

You couldn’t have wiped them off before we got there?

Whose side are you on? she rasped.

I already said that I believe you. But then I’m not the one you have to convince.

They were not under guard. She was quite certain the Chandara would not even understand that idea. She could turn around and leave anytime she wanted, but without the Chandara’s help, she stood virtually no chance of finding the Ancient girl.

She ran through the facts once more. Her stumbling on the scene immediately after the murder was a massive coincidence. But Keris didn’t believe in coincidences. The conclusion was inescapable. She had been set up.

Thanks to Brant and his wretched escort, all of Chalimar knew that the Heroine of Gort was travelling to Illaryon. And for what other reason than to consult with the Chandara? What better way to scupper her plans than to implicate her in the murder of one of them? She sensed the keltars’ hand. No doubt Glaisne had left instructions for them to frustrate her every move. They had failed to destroy the First Sphere, but clearly they had not been put off by the setback. She had underestimated them. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

At long last the Chandara’s Great Tree hove into view. Its wide bole filled the forest floor, festooned with bright-yellow moss and hanging creepers. A wide entranceway gave access to a spacious chamber at its base. Its trunk stretched upwards, disappearing above the forest canopy.

Full circle. This was where it had all began. Ordered to track down the rebel Lyall and his party, Keris had been carried off by a perridon before the Chandara had rescued her and brought her to their Great Tree. It was the beginning of a journey that had taken her across the Sea of Storms to the unknown world that lay beyond.

The Tree was unchanged, but the circumstances were very different. Back then, she had been keltar; now, she was their sworn enemy. Then, she had been the victim of a brutal attack; now, she was accused of committing a terrible murder. It was like staring into a lake at a reversed reflection of herself.

A group of adult Chandara emerged from the Tree’s entrance. As they ruffled their wings, the iridescent wing tips caught the morning sunlight. The Chandara accompanying Keris and McCann joined them, and the flock chittered and squawked.

Keris stepped forwards but felt a restraining hand on her shoulder. It’s their sandbox, McCann whispered. Let’s sit this one out.

He was right. An unprecedented crime of violence had been committed. There was no way of telling how the Chandara might react. A single wrong word could have disastrous consequences. Following McCann’s suggestion, Keris sat down and curled her tail, puzzled that he remained standing.

Was Boxx here? In her juvenile form, the female Chandara had accompanied the Kelanni in their search for the four components of Annata’s device. They had developed a bond of trust—even affection of a sort. Keris ran her eye over the twittering creatures, but she knew no way of telling them apart.

Glowing lights appeared between them as they shared their peculiar link. The link. She had experienced Chandara memories once before when she witnessed McCann poisoning the forest in Kelanni-Skell on the far side of their world. It had not been through a direct link—rather a chemical process Boxx guided her through. But if she could experience Chandara memories, maybe she could share her own and so prove her innocence?

The glowing contacts faded. One of the creatures padded towards Keris, and she rose to meet it.

Death Has Occurred, the Chandara said in its melodious voice.

Yes, she said. I grieve with you. It is a terrible tragedy.

You Stand Over The Chandara. Blood Is Spilled. The Staff Is In Your Hand.

She raised her voice so all could hear. I arrived not long after it happened. Among my people I am trained as an investigator. I was examining the scene to determine who was responsible. I didn’t do it.

There Was No Other.

The murderer must have left before I got there.

From Kelanni We Learned Of The Lie. That Which Is Not Truth.

I remember, Keris said. "You explained that your link allows you to share memories with each other so there can be no falsehood between you—no pretence. Kelanni, on the other hand, must rely on speech, which leaves us open to deception.

When you shared the truth about… She glanced sideways at McCann. When you shared an important truth, you gave me that specific memory using what you called an ‘allosteric effector’. In the same way, I would share my recollection of the last few ornahs so you will know I did not commit this murder.

The Chandara stared down at them with an expression that might have been regret. That Is Not Possible.

Her grand idea collapsed like a punctured balloon. May I ask why?

Your Mind Is Too Disorganised.

Keris blinked. Coming from anyone else in any other setting, she would have taken it as an insult. How then can I prove to you what really happened?

Excited chirping broke out among the assembled Chandara. When it died away, the Chandara in front of them spoke once more. There Is The Link.

According to the sphere, the link involved sharing more than just memories. It was a blending of thoughts. Concepts. Values. Perhaps more. The degree of its influence was far from clear. But what choice did she have?

Very well, Keris said. I’m ready.

McCann spoke in her ear. May I have a word?

She hesitated before addressing the Chandara once more. Would you excuse me for a moment?

She bowed, then she turned and followed McCann till they were out of earshot.

What is it? she hissed, letting irritation seep through into her voice.

Are you sure this is a good idea?

Yes. Why? What’s the problem?

What if this thing takes you over? Or you get lost in some ‘mindscape’?

If you’re referring to the Great Mind, it went to sleep thousands of turns ago—if it’s even still alive.

We’re not that sure of our facts, Keris. I keep thinking of cannabis.

What?

It was a plant grown on Earth for its mind-altering effects. People swore blind it was harmless. Trouble was, those were the same people who indulged in it.

You think I’ll become a slave to this link?

I think you have to consider the possibility. Aevan came under its influence. So did Zemira.

But Evalina didn’t, Keris maintained. That suggests to me that a person’s self—a person’s free will—remains intact.

Do you really want to risk your mental health on that assumption? You’re an investigator. Why not investigate in the normal way? Gather evidence. Track down the perpetrator and bring him to justice.

She smiled inwardly. He was just looking after her interests. It was a side of the hu-man she had not seen before. Touching. Almost fatherly.

Let me ask you this, she continued in a softer tone. Who do you think is the prime suspect?

You mean besides you?

She darkened.

McCann closed his eyes and held up his hands. All right, all right. I guess I would have to say Torile. Either him or one of the other keltar he reports to.

And what would you say was his motive?

To implicate you?

To divert me, she corrected, from the search for Zemira to a different investigation—one that they manufactured.

McCann folded his arms and clutched his greying beard. Makes sense in a twisted sort of way, I suppose.

"We also have to consider the Chandara. Say I conduct an inquiry and prove the identity of the killer. Do you think that will satisfy them? Chandara establish the truth through shared memory. It’s how they operate—how they think. Nothing short of that will convince them. Besides, if I turn down the link, they’ll right away conclude it’s because I have something to hide.

One thing’s for sure; without their cooperation, we’ll never find the Ancient girl.

He shook his head. It still seems like an awful risk.

I know that. That’s why I’m going to ask for Boxx. I don’t believe she would allow me to come to any harm.

Without waiting for his reply, Keris turned and headed back to the assembled Chandara. It was a risk, however she dressed it up. But the alternative was to give up and admit defeat, and that was something she was not about to do.

The winged creatures had not moved. By their own testimony, their lifespan was three thousand turns and more. Impatience is the province of the short-lived, she thought.

I am ready, she announced. If it is permitted, I would choose to link with my friend—the Chandara that Annata named Boxx. Is she here?

The lead Chandara stared down at her with sparkling, multifaceted eyes. She Is My Mate.

Chapter Three

Keris stood before Boxx in the empty chamber at the base of the Great Tree. She had requested privacy to perform the link. McCann objected at first. Then, when he saw she was resolute, he announced he would station himself directly outside in case she got into difficulty although he gave no inkling of what he intended to do in that event.

Keris bowed low. I honour she who helped drive the hu-man invaders from our world. She hugged the Chandara’s soft, downy neck.

Boxx opened her beak but gave no other reaction. The news that she had a mate was intriguing, but that was a discussion for another time. Right now, there were more pressing concerns.

Do you know what has happened? Keris asked.

Death Has Occurred, Boxx said, echoing her mate.

I must prove that I was not responsible.

You Must Enter The Link.

Yes. Will you help me?

Is That What You Wish?

Keris hesitated, as if seeking the least painful path through a patch of thorns.

We are trying to find a Kelanni who lived long ago. Her name is Zemira.

The High Servant.

Keris’s heart quickened. Yes, that’s right. Do you know where she is?

You Wish To Bring About The Restoration?

The Restoration. It was the term Zemira used to describe a process by which the Kelanni would allow the Chandara and their Great Trees to spread across this world once more, thus awakening Nie-min-en-tin, the Great Mind. The Kelanni would then face a stark choice: submit to the link or return to Helvena, their planet of origin. It was to be the price of Zemira’s help in defeating the foul creature, Ash.

Keris had hoped to negotiate some compromise with a stranger. She hadn’t anticipated having to justify herself before a friend.

She took a deep breath. I don’t believe the Kelanni should just give up this world. All of us were born here; we don’t know any other existence. Nevertheless, our ancestors committed a great wrong against the Chandara. I will put the case that we should try to make amends somehow. But I do not speak for my people. There are bound to be those who will object.

Boxx cocked her head as if weighing Keris’s sincerity then fixed her with a penetrating gaze. Keris Will Do What Is Right.

Boxx’s confidence felt like a crushing blow. During their travels, Keris had formed a connection with Boxx closer than with any of her own race. Now that friendship was tossed into the priceless pot she stood to lose if she made the wrong choice.

On the plus side, Boxx knew of Zemira and the Restoration, which seemed proof positive of the authenticity of the sphere. It also strongly suggested that the Ancient girl was alive and that the Chandara knew her location. If Keris lost her mind, at least it would be in a good cause.

What do I do? she asked.

Boxx spread her wings. On the underside were three-fingered appendages reminiscent of the juvenile Chandara’s paws.

Our Hands Must Touch, Boxx crooned.

Keris stepped forwards and placed her flattened palm against the Chandara’s. Her hand grew warm, and a gentle glow spread from the point of contact. A colossal consciousness struck Keris like a tsunami, blowing her mind backwards. She reeled from the rush of images and clung to her sanity as if it were the last remaining rock in a storm-wracked ocean.

At last, the storm subsided. She had impressions of a world swathed in blue mountains, shining seas, and lush forests presided over by stately Great Trees. A raging firestorm consumed the forests, laying the land bare. Inconsolable grief and loss ripped at her heart.

Then the scene shifted, and she was moving through orange- and amber-leaved woodland with a strange, bearded creature. Everything was too bright, with rainbow edges, as if she were viewing herself through another’s eyes.

She saw crimson fliers circling and hurried to the spot. A winged Chandara lay broken on the ground, blood pooling around its head. Then her eye caught a movement. She concentrated on a spot at the lower left of her vision. A tiny figure was watching her from the bushes, face half hidden in shadow. How did I miss that before?

The figure vanished, and the scene faded.

~

Keris awoke to a frowning face with a tiny, freckled nose and fiery, chopped-off red hair bending over her.

Dannel? The youthful operative from the Division for the Maintenance of World Order was a long way from Chalimar. Like Keris, she was clad in a crimson flying cloak. Her fist gripped the haft of a diamond-bladed staff. Why is her weapon drawn?

Are you all right, lady?

Keris’s hearing was muffled, and someone was drilling a metal spike between her eyes. She screwed her eyes shut, but the drilling continued regardless. No… yes…

Don’t move, Dannel instructed. I’ll fetch a healer right away.

She sheathed her staff and lifted the Speaker Ring to her lips, but Keris caught her arm. No. I’ll be fine. What are you doing here? Where’s Boxx?

Boxx?

The Chandara who was here with me.

I found one of the creatures standing over you, Dannel said. I drove it away.

Keris sagged back to the wooden floor of the Great Tree’s entrance chamber.

Brant instructed me to follow the escort discreetly to ensure you came to no harm, she carried on. When I learned from the escort captain that you had ventured alone into the forest with the hu-man, I became concerned. May I ask what you are doing?

Conducting an investigation.

May I ask what you’re investigating?

There was little to be gained from concealing the truth from her own people. I believe the keltar are attempting to seize power once more.

I thought they had all perished when the keep at Chalimar fell, Dannel said.

Apparently not.

A flicker passed over the operative’s face like a page turned too quickly to read.

We have an additional problem, Keris continued. There has been a murder.

Dannel raised her eyebrows. Who was the victim?

One of the Chandara.

Oh, I thought you meant…

…a real person. Dannel’s view was far from unique. Many Kelanni did not view the Chandara as people.

To thwart the keltar, we must gain the Chandara’s cooperation. That’s what I was attempting to do.

I see, Dannel said, although it was obvious she didn’t.

Keris, however, was through with explanations. Where’s McCann?

I ordered him to wait outside.

Keris flogged her brain and sinews and got to her feet. Dannel made to support her, but Keris waved the girl away.

Take care, my lady. Hu-mans are not to be trusted.

If that hu-man had not turned against his own people, we might still be under the Prophet’s servitude.

Exactly, Dannel said.

They stepped out into bright sunlight. Chandara milled around in the clearing, flapping and shaking their heads. McCann stood by the entrance. He and Dannel eyed each other like circling predators.

How are you? McCann asked Keris.

Well enough, she said. What’s happening?

He grinned, and his blue-grey eyes sparkled. Whatever you said to them, it worked. They’re willing to lead us to— He glanced at Dannel. They’re willing to lead us. They want us to depart immediately.

What about the slaughtered Chandara? Keris asked.

I don’t know. I didn’t like to argue. They insist we leave right away.

Finding the Ancient girl was vital; it was the reason she had come here in the first place. Keris didn’t want to abandon the murder investigation, but she couldn’t be in two places at once. She turned and addressed Dannel. I have a task for you.

The girl straightened. At your service, lady.

I want you to take over the inquiry into the murder of the Chandara.

As you wish, but…

Speak, Keris commanded.

I’m not sure that would be regarded as murder.

Dannel had a point. Keris couldn’t recall a single instance of anyone being accused of the murder of a Chandara. She wasn’t sure Kelanni law would recognise it as such. Still, this was not the time to debate subtle points of law. You are to treat this as murder.

Dannel nodded.

Start by examining the crime scene, Keris continued. The Chandara can guide you to the place. Keltar may be involved, so watch yourself. Look for a small person, possibly a child, who was at or near the scene at the time.

A child?

That’s right. Report to me as soon as you have anything.

The operative turned away.

Dannel.

Yes, lady?

Don’t let indifference guide you or prejudice sway you. Pursue the truth, wherever it leads.

I understand, Dannel said. She spun on her heel and headed for the nearest group of Chandara.

McCann stared at her retreating back. His eyes narrowed beneath bushy eyebrows. What’s she doing here, I wonder?

What do you mean? Keris asked.

Timing seems a little convenient, don’t you think?

Brant sent her to keep an eye on me.

Is that what she told you?

What’s that supposed to mean?

Why don’t you use the Speaker Ring and ask him?

Why would I do that?

To see if she’s telling the truth.

She’s one of my most trusted aides.

Didn’t Torile let slip that the keltar have infiltrated your organisation?

Keris sighed and brought the Ring to her mouth. Brant, are you there?

The reply was instant, as if he were standing by for her call. The stone emitted a dull green glow. How may I assist you, lady?

Dannel is here. Did you send her?

Yes, lady. I asked her to watch out for your safety. I meant no offence.

No, that’s fine. Actually, the timing is perfect. I have two concurrent investigations, and I can’t follow up on both, so I’m assigning her to one while I care for the other. I’ll let you know if I need anything further.

Very good.

Keris raised her eyes to McCann. Satisfied?

No.

Keris shook her head. This is because of her attitude towards hu-mans, isn’t it?

That has nothing to do with it. I just don’t trust her.

Your area of specialisation among the hu-mans—what was it again?

I was… I am an engineer.

Well, why don’t you confine yourself to… fixing things and leave the investigations to me, hmm?

McCann turned away. I hope you’re right and I’m wrong—I really do.

Why’s that? Keris called after him.

Because otherwise you’ve just placed a murderer in charge of her own investigation.

Chapter Four

Riding on the back of a Chandara—somehow Keris had forgotten the simple thrill.

The days leading up to the fall of the keep at Chalimar had overflowed the senses and quickened the heart. She had traversed unknown lands, battled a tyrannical foe, and prevailed. Then the walls had closed in.

As one of the Six Heroes who had defeated the hu-mans, she found it difficult to appear publicly in Chalimar. She spent most of her time in her office organising security for public events, listening to the endless prattle of petty officials, or reading reports of minor offences. She was like a family heirloom—locked away to be brought out, dusted off, and polished only on special occasions. In an odd, ironic twist, it had been a hu-man who had changed all that.

McCann’s discovery of the sphere had wedged open a crack in the door of her cage, and she had bolted. Now as the wind numbed her face and swept back her long, dark hair, she knew she would never go back.

She had stopped off only long enough to order the escort back to Chalimar. Her wicked streak whispered she should just leave them there to wonder what happened, but she couldn’t bring herself to be that irresponsible.

Wide eyes and gaping mouths greeted her as she and McCann swept down from the sky mounted on great, white-winged beasts. Still seated on the Chandara’s back, she barked orders then took to the air once more, leaving the escort captain floundering in a sea of questions.

She rode Boxx, and McCann rode Boxx’s mate. An avionic would have been much faster, but Kelanni-Skell—the technologically superior half of the planet—had been slow in delivering advanced machines to their poorer cousins in Kelanni-Drann. It hardly mattered. Adult Chandara would never fit into an avionic cockpit, and faster transport was of no use if they didn’t know where they were going.

The sleeping Ancient girl was probably concealed in a thinly populated area, but she could be located anywhere on the planet. They might be facing a journey of many days. If their destination was in Kelanni-Skell, beyond the Sea of Storms, they would need to use the vacuum hole tower at Dagmar, but right now they were headed not east but south, away from the tower and towards the Southern Desert and the ancient fortress of Gort.

Soon tiny towns, patchwork fields, and isolated farmsteads gave way to bare rock and blasted sand. Ail-Mazzoth, a rheumy orb shot through with dark bands, glowered motionless in the sky. Ail-Gan, the yellow sun, was dipping towards the eastern horizon, chased by the brilliant white point that was Ail-Kar.

They had maybe a couple of ornahs of full daylight before the desert would be bathed in Ail-Mazzoth’s dull crimson twilight. They would have to set down for the night, and the only source of food and water within reach was Gort.

The fortress that had been a byword for tyranny under the Prophet’s rule was now a byword for excess. Gone were the keltar and the slave camps; now the lodestone meteorites were gathered by lodestone hunters or licensed prospectors who braved the desert heat in hopes of turning a quick profit. Alongside them in the cramped town, a profusion of liquor houses, dives, peddlers, and wanderers offered a rainbow of diversions—legal and illegal. Keris’s division had been forced to establish a considerable presence there to maintain order; in fact, it sometimes seemed that half the reports crossing her desk in Chalimar originated in that tiny burg.

She spotted it at last light, stone walls topped by iron spikes rising out of the desert sands. Lamps shone from gaps in the walls, giving the fortress an unwelcome yet festive appearance, like a lumbering gudrun beast decked out for a parade. It sat brooding, as if plotting revenge.

They came down a short distance from the open main gates. A mismatched pair of soldiers in leather armour—one burly and oversized, the other lean and gangly—stood watching them.

How do you want to play this? McCann asked as they dismounted.

Leave the talking to me, Keris replied.

Yes, sure. You bet. Shut up. I can do that.

She shot him a sideways glance. As ever, she found it hard to tell whether the hu-man was being serious or sarcastic. I’ll see the divisional warden and secure accommodation.

Two adult Chandara and a hu-man—that should prove interesting.

What are you trying to say?

Wouldn’t it be easier if the Chandara stay outside?

And leave them at the mercy of the sand scarags? Not likely.

With powerful pincers and sharp stingers, the sand scarags roamed the desert in vast packs, attacking anything in their paths. The hu-man had never faced them. She had.

The Chandara can fly, he reminded her.

We are not leaving them outside.

So what then—a penthouse suite at the Waldorf Astoria?

We’ll put them up at the stables.

Their very own pen, next to rows of stinking, drooling morgren. Lovely.

The Chandara padding behind them did not react. She had left a frightened, juvenile Boxx at the stables here once before and returned to find a group of Kelanni youths pelting the creature with stones.

I’ll order the stable master to give them the best of care, she said. I’ll toss a couple of extra astrias his way and remind him that since they can speak, they can also complain if he doesn’t follow through. I’ll even have the guard commander post a watch for good measure, all right?

You’re the boss.

As they approached the entrance, the oversized guard blocked their path. Wha’s this then? More bloody entertainers?

Keris stepped forwards. Do you know who I am?

I know what yer dressed like, darlin’. Red cloaks ’re ten to a mug round ’ere. An’ they don’ travel wi’ tree dwellers ’n ’airy-faced freaks.

His bony companion snickered.

Keris swished her tail and silenced him with a dangerous stare. I am Keris.

The ’eroine ’o Gort? Suuure. An I’m the Lord o’ Kalath-Kar. Now get lost!

Excuse me, McCann said, slipping past her before she could react. He cupped a hand and whispered in the guard’s ear.

The big soldier’s mouth twitched, then he straightened and waved them through the gate. Go on. Get goin’.

She clamped her mouth shut, marched past the guards, and heard, An’ watch yerself in them pleasure dens, m’lady! followed by raucous laughter.

She set her face forwards until they had crossed the courtyard and rounded a corner, then she pinned the hu-man to the nearest wall.

All right, what did you tell them?

He shrugged. Creative economics. I promised them a case of langoran bitters—you’re paying, by the way.

She released him.

You’re welcome, he added.

She turned away and headed up the narrow street. I’ve a good mind to go back there and offer to put them in irons.

I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

Why not?

Because I also told them you were off your rocker.

~

Keris wound through crowded streets that were barely wider than alleyways. Ail-Mazzoth daubed faces and facades alike in crimson shades. Sun-scorched males in drab desert gear rubbed shoulders with gaudily clad females. Light laughter spilled from open doorways. Gort was coming alive.

This was very different from the place she knew before the fall of the keep at Chalimar. Then the town had cowered in silence under the keltars’ heels. Now it yelled with unrestrained brashness. Keris couldn’t decide which she disliked more.

Keris and McCann saw to the Chandara until they were safely curled up at the stables. The accommodations were less than ideal, but a stable master with darting eyes and skin fried by the desert sun