All The Dead Stars

By AK Alliss

In the occupied province of De'Zhun, Ae-Tor, once a member of the sorcerous Tapestry, has betrayed his order to save his own life. Now seeking redemption for his sins he sets forth on a dangerous mission to recover an alien weapon.

The warrior thief, Mischa the Sullen, is in trouble. Having stolen a mysterious artefact, she finds herself trapped within a ruin of alien origin. Imprisoned by the forces within, she seeks escape and freedom.

Echo, a genetically engineered assassin, wakes from an 800 year hibernation aboard the crashed starship, Mistress of Infinity. Stranded far from home, she must learn the rules that govern the strange land she has found herself in if she hopes to survive.

P'Sult is a Republic spy with a tragic past. Learning of a threat to his government, he enters an investigation, the answers of which may lead to his death.

All four seek redemption, freedom and answers in a dark tale of intrigue and adventure.

All The Dead Stars is an epic Grimdark Fantasy / Sci-fi that combines X-Files style conspiracy with the gritty adventure of Joe Abercrombie's First Law Trilogy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AK Alliss
• Release date: Jun 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463767818

AK Alliss

AK Alliss writes. Anytime. Anywhere. He’s writing. Scifi sagas, domestic thrillers, even slice-of-life coming of age stories. All from the heart. All breaking barriers from the mainstream genre tropes. He lives with his wife, children and his dog, Bratwurst. He has written the semi-autobiographical memoir A False History and the psychological domestic thriller, Kill Your Darlings He is also the author of the open-ended Cyberpunk series, The Ouroboros Cycle, (FR[A]ME: Ultra Edition, Future’s Orphans and Gravity’s Truth) His new novel, All The Dead Stars is available for preorder now.

Book preview

Fallen Star

A Different Kind of Death

Disobedience

Star Crossed

Conspiracy Theorist

Best Defence

Compulsion

The Dangerous Type

Exit Strategy

Partings

Far Horizon

Jagged Alliance

Bargains By Night

The Language of Secrecy and Steel

Questions without Answers

Regression

Speaking with the Enemy

What Lies Beneath

Agent of Change

Mixed Signals

Where the Wild Things Are

Repeat Offender

Meetings

To Kill A Problem

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Fallen Star

The sisters sat low and hungry upon the horizon, their twin orbs filling the sky, bathing the clearing in orange light. Fae-Nellis the Bleak bent low as she stirred the pot of entrails, sniffing and wrinkling her nose at the scent. All theatre, of course. It was amazing what the fools in the nearby Nooks believed about her talents. In truth, she had no power. Her abilities were nothing more than a quick tongue, some arcane finger gestures, and a healthy dose of superstition.

Lifting the pot, she grunted, unprepared for the violent flash of light from the sky. It was blinding. The noise that followed was louder than any storm and it subdued all other sounds. The ground heaved, rippling and swaying before throwing Nellis from her feet. Fronds were torn from nearby trees, the force so violent that some even split down their trunks.

Flying from her hand, the pot doused her with its contents as she fell. Lying on the ground, covered in guts, her ears rang. Tears refused to be blinked away as she looked to the heavens. The broad slash of jade dominating the sky was faceted and it made her cringe into the ground, shielding herself from the dire glow that blotted out the stars. Eyelids fluttering, she shrunk into herself further as it started to rain, the spraying mist dampening her face and hair. Tasting sweetness, she licked her lips. It felt warm and uncomfortable against her skin. Her hands became claws as they gripped at her face.

Her lips ached. She saw that her hands were stained green as she lowered them. Rubbing them together, she frowned. Oily. Whatever the stuff was, it clung stubbornly to her skin. More sweetness, her tongue coated in the stuff, and a tart stink of citrus, like an overripe orange.

With her head spinning, flashes of green light stung behind her eyes. Her temples throbbed, and Nellis staggered back towards the hut of mud and twigs that she had fashioned for herself on the banks of Lake A'Nathwa. Inside, she lay down upon her small cot and whimpered. Odd, elongated shadows moved beyond the hut's threshold. Clutching her thin pillow, she drew the ragged blankets up over her head. A cracking noise, like a tree being felled, made her cry out before silence fell. Then came the acrid stench of something burning.

Groaning, Nellis remained still. The sickly sweet taste in her mouth made her retch. How pitiful it would be if this was her last night in life. To think that she might die without collecting the debt of the oyster farmer, Taj. Her sleep brought dreams, but they  were filled with terror. Black depths, unfathomable distances, and icy light pricking the dark. But that wasn't the worst of it. A voice spoke, and she felt her fear spike, wanting only to awaken.

Thread leak detected, environmental corruption anticipated. Activating containment procedure. Containment procedure malfunction detected. Containment procedure failed. Activating secondary containment procedure. Stasis protocols initiated. Partial system suspension commencing. Jettisoning backup AI.

Because they lacked meaning, the words were somehow worse. She struggled, an insect caught in a web. Untethered and drifting, she was carried through he own mind, until a glowing orb appeared in the darkness, a demon's eye. It studied her with cold regard. This time, instead of a voice, an image appeared. It was a vast network of light, connecting every living thing.

She struggled to understand the vision's meaning. Image after image arrived, appearing and vanishing so quickly it made her head hurt. She saw a building, dwarfing anything that she had ever seen before. It's spires seemed to loom upward with an intent to touch the heavens. The sight of it filled her with a sense of peace and calm.

Nellis opened her eyes. Dawn's earliest light broke weakly through the branches above. Smoke drifted. Eyelids fluttering, she stirred. Recognition of where she was painted a frown on her face. Like most of the regions surrounding the lake, this place was immediately familiar. And why shouldn't it be? It had been her home since she was a girl.

She had been carried far from her hut, but had no memory of travelling to where she now found herself. She raised her body on one arm and touched her face. If she had been struck it would hurt no less than it did now. Listening. No insects or other usual sounds of the swamp  were present. The silence did not remain for long.

The loud hiss that broke the peace made her jump, and for her age, she was nimble in gaining her feet. Spinning, she expected to see the broad and sinuous length of a viper. Instead, her wary gaze found a glittering object, half buried in the mud.

The scramble backwards was difficult with one hand raised. Watching from a position of uncertain safety, Nellis saw the object's surface bloom, a strange flower opening. From within the too smooth sphere, light flared emerald. It hummed and the ground beneath her supporting hand trembled. Its incessant pulsing glow was alluring.

Sidling forward, Nellis licked her lips. Heat hit her face, rolling over her in intense waves and sweat pricked her scalp. Streamers of green mist blossomed from the sphere's opening as she approached. Within the mist, it looked as if insects floated, small dots of moving light. Leaning over, she peered inside, the light painting her weathered skin. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out what lay within.

There was a short burst of air, a light touch against her cheek. Her right eye stung, and her nose itched, tears welling. Heat followed by pain. It came like a spear, penetrating her skull, followed by more images, like she had seen the night before. She saw herself, dressed in robes finer than any she would ever be able to afford. On her breast was a pin, but she could not make out its shape.

All of the images seemed to be abstract in some way. Unclear. Presented more like suggestions of a memory. She frowned, shaking her head, trying to clear it of its fog. Her head dipped. If she had ever felt her age in such a profound way, then she could not recall.  Fingers trembling, she stretched her hand forward, the mist curling around it. Her mind opened and for the first time, her long years of experience felt like nothing more than trickery. At that moment, she realised that she understood nothing.

A Different Kind of Death

Mischa hated when she was right about things that would probably end up getting her killed. Yet here she was, right again. Hidden behind a bush, pants around her ankles, about to get turned inside out, immolated or maybe sent screaming into the under realm. It didn’t matter. However she died, she would still be dead if they caught her. One of her pursuers looked right towards where she hid. It was just like that old fool, her supposed mentor in all things dishonest, Coi, to tell her half the story and leave the rest to fate.

The object that she had stolen from them was in the small pocket sewn into the lining of her robe. It was hot. Whatever it was, the magic user with the pale eyes and the straw coloured hair would be upon her soon. Before she had a chance to wipe her arse, in fact. Scared, a cold gust across her backside added to the chill that she felt. She daren’t move. Maybe he could see her, maybe he couldn’t, but she wouldn’t let the act of pulling up her breeches be the deciding factor.

Bloody Needles. Call them what you would; magi, sorcerers, perhaps even pins or shifty little bastards for that matter. Any way you looked at it, they were not to be trusted. Coi had been right on that point. If he could only see her now. She was certain that somewhere in one of his books she would find an answer that would help get her out of this situation. Pale Eyes untucked himself and started to piss and it was a contest to see whether he would finish first, or if her bladder would betray her. She won, the prize of keeping her life for a few more moments a small comfort. The man turned back to his companions.

Ugly bitch. Couldn't have gotten far. Pale Eyes squinted. Can't believe she took it, right from under our noses.

Does it make you feel good to call her that?

What? His voice reminded her of childhood bullies. When she had been too different to the other girls in the orphan house for anyone's liking.

You do it often. Insult people.

The other speaker was a slight man, hair so pale, it could almost be white. Serious green eyes. She had seen eyes like his before. They carried a burden.

If you didn't want to join us, then you should've stayed back at the Loom with the rest of the pox-ridden Tapestry when the Republic rolled through.

Then I'd be dead, wouldn't I? His voice remained calm and she gave him some grudging respect because of it.

Bah. Pale Eyes waved him away, turned to the two other men and a slender, fox-faced woman who made up the rest of their group. All three of them clustered together, whispering, leaving Green Eyes sitting on the rock.

Watching, she saw him look her way, the space between his brows pinched.

Shit.

Did he know she was there? Wasting no time, she let her backside touch the ground, tried to ignore the mud and the beetles. Rather dirty than facing whatever mystical unpleasantness those she had stolen from could dream up. Her breath remained in her throat as she slid backwards, teeth grit, fearful of making any noise. Barely had she managed to crawl any distance at all when there was a shout from behind her.

Don't even think about it. A woman’s voice, twisted and high.

She froze. The clink of armour made her stiffen further. What now? Wasn't it bad enough that she was bare arsed and covered in mud?

You let him go, or we'll unspool your skin and hang it from the trees.

Careful, Riik, you know that they could do that. A voice so deep that it sounded as if it was being dredged up from its owner's boots.

If he so much as twitches, he'll be getting his friend's throat slit. The woman replied.

You could just knock him out? Save all that mess. A slow voice gave the kind of laugh that was usually the sole property of dullards.

Shut up, Grenfell, or I'll let these oily bastards stitch you up so bad they'll be fishing parts of you out of the Slice. Remember what happened to Mawe?

Baud, what are we even doing out here? Riik again. Haven't you heard, this place is cursed.

Maybe you'll all get a chance to find out. Another woman spoke, her voice low and sullen.

Shut-up witch. Deep voice again. Matriarch Fenn told us to come here and get this lot, so we come here, and get this lot. What other reason do you need? Get 'em chained - Hey! What are you - A sound like paper tearing filled the air, preceding chaos. There was a sickening smell of sweetness, but it suddenly cut off. Quick, they have no power! Get' em!

Mischa used the distraction to her advantage and continued slithering. Leaves clung to her mouth, dirt rode up inside her shirt and an uncomfortable warmth was beginning to bloom from her side. Luck being with her, the only thing on her mind other than surviving this ordeal was a warm bath, a plate of roast meat and a mug of ale.

Stop it.

Wouldn't do any good if she had managed to escape only to be caught daydreaming about food. Zaddock's teats, what in the fiery pits was that bloody warmth? Hotter now. Burning against her side like it was aiming to set her ablaze. She shuffled around, rolling onto her back and then plucking the object from its home in the pouch. Ouch! Nearly dropping it, she tried blowing on it as she would a piece of overcooked food, but it was no good. The pain was forgotten as a shout rang out between where she had been and where she was now.

You there, stop! Deep voice.

The man was a brute, outfitted in chitin plate and leather armour. On one breast he bore the circle and eye of the Perditionist Republic.

Brilliant.

Not bothering with her breeches, she clutched at her smalls, dragging them up as she stepped neatly out of the discarded clothing and fled.

Freed, she felt renewed. Around her, the swamp fell silent, the usual sounds fading with the presence of the intruders. Swaying palms and standing pools of water passed in a flash of green and gold, dappled sunlight. Sweat lathered her brow, stinging her eyes. It sink in her nostrils, joining the murky smells of the swamp. Move to De'Zhun, Coi had said, it'll be an adventure.

Should've moved to Triffid instead, like she had wanted. Great food, no humidity. Fates, she was famished. She stumbled. It saved her life, the arrow grazing her cheek instead of lodging in her skull. She slowed herself, when all she wanted was to go as fast as she could. Green Eyes shouted something, but it was lost, not that she thought she would want to hear anything he had to say.

Another divot caught her ankle and she fell, grunting as her hands met the scrubby grass. Heat against her palm reminded her of the object. More worrying was that it had started to hum. Worth a small town in the heart of the Empire. That's how Coi had lured her into this in the first place. His exact words. So where was he now? Face down, blind drunk in a gutter somewhere, most likely. Certainly a marked improvement over being where she was.

The object was small, disc-shaped and looked like a flattened gem. It slid from her grasp. Quickly looking back over her shoulder, she could see them. Baud shielding his eyes, while Green Eyes sucked his lower lip, hands on hips. Why couldn't they see her? Any closer and they could all sit together and discuss how unseasonable the heat had been. And yet, the two men continued searching. Several times their eyes passed over her but they didn't appear to see her.

Frowning, she raised herself on her elbows, but quickly became distracted by the gem. Its hum had grown to a whining pitch now. Dividing her gaze, she switched between the gem and her pursuers. Still no sign they could see her. Safe for now. Maybe? Her new-found confidence was lost in seconds. There was a grinding noise and the ground began rumbling beneath her. She scrabbled at it, trying to backpedal. The soil shifted and she started sinking into it.

It sucked at her legs, then at her hips. She spread her arms wide, pulling at clumps of grass as she was sucked down. Then the dirt was beneath her chin and she tilted her head, closing her mouth tightly. It was in her eyes, no matter how hard she squeezed them shut. She felt the air crushed from her lungs, took in a great mouthful of mud and then, she dropped.

She was met by a hard and unforgiving surface. It drove the air from her lungs, and she vomited up what she had swallowed. Half coughing, half gagging, each breath was painful. Her ribs maybe broken, definitely bruised. The darkness was complete, a solid wall that surrounded her. Not even light came from above. Wasn't even sure how that was possible. Had she fallen down a sink-hole? Some sort of cave system beneath the swamp? Trading one kind of death, only to find another. Imagine it, Mischa the Sullen, lost, wandering and starved, instead of dying on the end of an enemy's blade. Where was the justice in that?

Maybe this was the City of Ghosts that Coi was always banging on about? If he had been here, he would know what to do for certain. Despite her growing irritation with him, she would've almost welcomed the old sot's voice right now, so isolating was the dark. But he wasn't here, and she was alone in the dark and the cold. Yes, cold. Uncanny and penetrating. It turned the sweat on her skin slick. She knelt, hands patting the ground, feeling little pockets of mud, and beneath, a smooth and flat surface. Smoother and flatter than any floor she had ever been on, and that would account for more than a few. Wiping the back of her hand across her lips, she stood, and took a shaky, experimental breath. It hurt, but was bearable.

Putting weight on her right foot made stars appear in her vision and pain flare in her ankle. Her eyes roved hungrily until they landed on something glimmering in the dark. It was only faint, but she clung to it like a sailor lost at sea would a piece of driftwood. Her finger plucked at it, dropping it several times before she managed to scoop it from the floor. From far off, she could hear constant humming, a counterpoint to the hum of the gem in her hand. It was worth nothing now but the trouble it had found her. The darkness grew more manageable as her eyes adjusted.

Odd shapes loomed as she hobbled towards the faint outline of a door. Roots grew twisted and wild, crawling from large splits in the wall. They spread across the floor, seeping water. It smelled in here, as a crypt might. Water dripped from above, a constant tapping as it struck the ground. The door sat at an odd angle, the floor pitched slightly so that Mischa had to keep correcting herself. Every step was an effort and she hugged an arm around her body, but it did little to fight the chill. Something sighed. Something? Or someone? She almost called out, but then stopped.

Don't be dense, girl. Remember your lessons.

The best lessons are learnt in silence. Coi's words, not hers. Probably scavenged from one of the countless books he insisted on hauling everywhere with him. She heeded his teachings, even in his absence, and listened. No footsteps. Didn't mean anything. She wasn't the only clever person in the world, regardless of the amount of idiocy that existed. She listened some more. Still nothing. About to keep moving when she did hear something. So small that she could've easily convinced herself that she had heard nothing at all.

The gem pulsed in her hand and she felt a light stinging against her palm. She dropped it, then quickly retrieved it and used its glow to light the skin on her hand. Nothing. Or most likely nothing. The way that today was turning out, she wasn't going to be taking any chances. She took another step and then stopped. She could feel the frown tight against her brow. Why wasn't there any pain in her ankle? Testing it again proved that it was no longer sore. She stomped around, as if challenging the hurt to come back and when it didn't, she huffed out a breath.

Her eyes had adjusted some more, and she could clearly see columns marching away down the centre of a long room. Above, what looked like ropes hung between them. Not more roots, looking more like they had been made by human hands, too rigid in their consistency. Her breath clouded as she exhaled and she released a shiver, but then felt stupid for doing so, because she wasn't cold.

A searing flash of light stung her eyes, followed briefly by an image. An unfathomable void, vast and yawning. Emerald light bloomed, cascading, and an object appeared, angular in shape, huge, vast and immeasurable, like a floating fortress. It seemed to drift through the void. The image vanished, replaced by Coi, as if he had been there the whole time.

Why are you here? He asked and she knew then that it wasn't really him.

Back, Demon! She made the sign of warding, even though she had no time at all for religion.

She watched the Demon. It smiled placidly at her. Swallowing, she wiped a grimy forearm across her forehead, sneered, and drew her sword. Nearly dropped the damn thing for all the sweat on her palm. Gripping it tighter, she crouched, and then stopped. There was nothing. The Demon wasn't there anymore. It was a struggle to stay still, her eyes darting from corner to corner, trying to infiltrate the dark.

An overwhelming sense of confusion descended upon her. Frozen, her arms ached as she struggled to support the sword. All she wanted was for the real Coi to be there, to lead her away from this dreadful place. As if summoned, the Demon appeared again, and she was unable to resist as it took her arm, made her sheathe her sword, and started to lead her forward. This Coi's face looked all wrong. One minute it was the Coi of her youth, in his middle years and strong, the next it was the Coi she knew now, old and querulous. It spoke again.

Come, Mischa, you are lost.

To make matters worse, its words came from one direction, then another, and another. It grew in volume until it was distorted and then softened until her ringing ears could barely hear it. Then it leveled, still sliding from one point to another. Seemed as if the Demon wanted to toy with her before making an attack. Only fair to provide it with an answer. Even so, it was hard to force herself to speak. She said her words through gritted teeth. 

Not lost, just ready to slit you from your cursed belly to your throat. The anger ran out of her as she looked around.

Stupid words really, when there seemed nothing there to attack. It was gone again, but she still walked forward as if she knew where it was that she was supposed to go.

Her mind was like disturbed cobwebs, scattered and twisting. Another flash of light. This one was a glowing orb, hanging suspended in the void. It reminded her of the Sisters in the night sky. The angular object she had seen before spiralled towards the orb, trailing fire, bodies drifting from a massive rift in its side. So small they were. Insignificant. The image faded, its ghost hanging in the air before her eyes for moments after it had gone.

Why was her head buzzing? Like she had drunk an ocean of ale with none of the pleasure. A soothing wash of coolness passed through her. Not the cold of the air around her, but a soft salve that seemed to ease her concerns. The buzzing subsided and the anger and fear - yes, she had been scared - drained from her. As it left, she made a last attempt to snatch it back, but it was gone. What had she been so worried about? She shouldn't be afraid. After all, those who had sought to do her harm had been left behind.

There was a brief swell of urgency that thrust its way through the calm. She struggled to remember what it was that she had been doing before she came here. All she knew was that there was somewhere she was meant to be. Help. Yes. She needed to help. By doing what? She wasn't sure, only that she needed to do it at all costs. The object in her hand pulsed warmly and she tossed it in the air, flipping it like a coin.

Red Light flickered on and it reminded her of the fires that had lit the sky, the night she had fled her past. Mischa was a child again, begging at the Orphan Mistress's skirts, wanting to know everything but being told nothing. There was no answer. Just another bloom of the soothing sensation within, a counterpoint to the growing warmth in her hand. Fear leaked out of her, draining away until there was none. No reason for her to feel anything but safe in this space. Her new guardian, not a Demon at all, would protect her.

So she walked, not knowing how she knew where to go. Everything felt natural here, even though the spaces that she passed through, despite their ruin, seemed as manufactured as the raked gardens of Kottu. Another pulse from the gem wiped the thought from her mind. So pretty it was. Mischa had never really cared for jewellery, but the flat disc in her hand was lovelier than anything she had ever seen.

Where are we going?

More light, this one drilling into her skull, and she staggered as she was made blind again. More images. A child walking a shoreline, feet buried in the sand, hair unkempt. The child was crying. The girl reminded Mischa of herself, as she had been. She cried out her own name without knowing why. The girl looked up and beyond her, approaching the beach, a writhing mass of dark clouds soared upwards. She pushed the child behind her and the girl took her hand, holding it tightly.

Trust. Something that she had never carried in great quantities, even for Coi and the others. But this girl trusted her to protect her, and so she would. Not because she felt obligated, but because it was the right thing to do. The girl vanished, and she reeled. Coi's face appeared. Its lines were all wrong. He looked much younger, as if she was remembering him from when he had found her. After she had fled the orphan house. Then he was gone too.

Blinking, she saw that she had stopped, stood in front of a wall lined with curved protrusions. Roots twined before and around them, obscuring them. The look of them made her stomach turn, but she was locked in position, unable even to speak. Arms hanging, she waited. Beside her, there was a hiss and the sound of steel against steel. It sounded like a portcullis being raised. The gem pulsed rapidly and she turned without meaning to, saw herself plunging the dagger into the Orphan Mistress's breast. Saw her flight from the creaking old house where she and twenty other children had lived in squalor. Then Coi again, his repeated appearance consistent and reassuring.

Through the displaced mud, leaves and tree roots. One of the protrusions had slid up, revealing an opening behind it. Streamers of mist escaped from within and it became the entrance to a sarcophagus. Mischa's heart felt like it would crack her ribs from the inside it was beating so fast. The gem pulsed again, an annoying visitor that she was able to ignore, but only just.

I don't want to. This time she shivered because she was scared. I want to leave. I don't want to die. Not like this.

There are many kinds of death. But what is death except a new beginning? Even now, I am dying. Here in this place, I will soon pass, but with your help, I can be reborn. Together, we can be carried from this place, to start again. Think of your life, Mischa. Wouldn't it be good to start over? We can both start over. I can guide you, give you more power than you have ever known. Power enough that you will never be hurt again. Coi was back again, and he beckoned her, but he was insubstantial. Not Coi at all, but the Demon. No. This was a guardian. Her self reassurance felt shaky.

Her palm burned and no matter how hard she shook it, the gem would not leave her hand. It had dropped out so easily before. If only she had left it. Clenching her fist around it, she attempted to crush it. She couldn't.

I want to go home. Whimpering, she was like an infant.

But the truth was that she had no home. This was her home now. If she only let it. That made no sense to her, but yet seemed so logical at the same time. Here, she had a purpose, even if that purpose was obscure and hard to define.

What do you want? Tell me! She yelled the words and they bounced up and down the long, misshapen corridor.

Her echoed voice swelled, plucking hungrily at her ears and repeating in a damned chorus, sending her skin clammy. Stepping through the opening, bright light bloomed overhead. Intense and blazing it was, like a thousand suns in her eyes. Tears streamed. Defiler's flames, it hurt. All resistance fled. The mist enfolded her, an invisible lover. It caressed her and made her feel needed and wanted in ways that she had never felt before. Darkness fell.

Her thoughts drifted. Coi. His mouth moved but it was as if he had been struck mute. Even so, she was almost positive that she knew what he was saying. Chastising her for being a silly Gharm. But wasn't she safe? Wasn't this the most relaxed and comfortable and satisfied she had felt in… well… forever? He could carp at her all he wished but it wouldn't change the fact that where she was beat a gutter any day. At least she thought that it did.

There was a tickling sensation at her shoulders and thighs and she tried to see what was happening, but it was too dark. More like a warm sting, not painful, but just enough to let her know that it was there. Couldn't even seem to move her hands to rub at it. Something pressed against her back, like a hot finger that ran the length of her back, from the nape of her