Endgame

By Ashley Abbiss

The battle is over and normal life has resumed. For ‎Tren, that means a return to the apprentice barracks ‎and basic training, where final exams are creeping ever ‎closer. Tif returns to his work in weapon development. ‎

Meanwhile, their father, Prand, has been into ‎Barana and heard the new prophecy firsthand. He has ‎returned with the news that a pair of twins were born ‎to kill the High Priest of Baranitus and thus ensure the ‎end of this war and another hundred years of peace, ‎should they succeed.‎

He believes that Tren and Tif are those twins. He ‎advises them to start training and studying now so ‎they will be ready when the time comes. ‎

Suddenly, the knowledge that they will almost ‎certainly have to go on a difficult and dangerous ‎mission into the heart of Barana itself is on both the ‎twins’ shoulders. ‎

Meanwhile, the search is on for other sets of twins ‎who fit the criteria, and Prand’s political enemies are ‎determined to find some, and to frustrate his attempts ‎to investigate further.‎

Prand is certain that they will eventually have to ‎admit that Tif and Tren are the correct twins, but ‎while they wait for the High Command to make up its ‎mind, people are dying in ongoing Baraniti attacks. ‎And when an entire city is wiped out in a dragon ‎attack, they find themselves left with a stark choice. ‎

Do they continue to wait for the political ‎wrangling to sort itself out while people outside the ‎strongholds continue to die in their thousands? Or do ‎they take matters into their own hands and do what ‎needs to be done in defiance of the High Command in ‎the hope of stopping the slaughter? ‎

To do so would be to put their careers and maybe ‎even their lives on the line even if they make it back. ‎To continue to wait means watching hundreds, ‎perhaps thousands of their people die, all the time ‎knowing that they could be doing something about it. ‎

Are they willing to give up everything to do ‎what’s right? Can they live with themselves if they ‎don’t? Those are not easy questions, but Tif, Tren and ‎Prand will have to find an answer that they can live ‎with.‎

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashley Abbiss
• Release date: Jun 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005434977

Ashley Abbiss

Hello there. I’m Ashley Abbiss. ‎I live and write in beautiful New Zealand, where I live with one large dog, who looks nothing ‎like Friend from my Daughters of Destiny books. She is, however, almost as intelligent and definitely as ‎opinionated, and if she can’t quite speak in the way Friend does to Niari, that doesn’t really ‎hold her back much!‎I write fantasy, mostly of the epic variety. Let me say right up front that if you’re looking for a quick read, you’re in the wrong place. But if you like a substantial, ‎satisfying story that you can really get your teeth into, stick with me. I may have something ‎you’ll enjoy. There’s no graphic sex in my books. If that’s what you want, you’ll have to look ‎elsewhere. There is violence, and there is swearing, though mostly of the ‘s/he swore’ variety, ‎nothing overly graphic or offensive. I also write about strong, independent female characters, ‎so if your taste runs to something more macho, or something more frilly and helpless, this may ‎not be the place for you. ‎I’ve always loved wandering in different worlds, be they fantasy or science fiction, although ‎lately I tend to prefer fantasy. The only proviso is that they have to be believable worlds, ‎worlds that feel real, that have depth and scope – and they must, absolutely must be fun to ‎visit. I read for escape and entertainment, and I don’t really want to escape from this world ‎into one even grimmer. Trouble, tension, and danger I can deal with, what sort of story would ‎there be without them? Where would Pern be without Thread, Frodo without Sauron, Harry ‎Potter without Voldemort? But there has to be hope, and there has to be a light touch. Happy ‎ever after does have a lot going for it, even if initially it’s only a very small light at the end of ‎a long, dark tunnel. My personal favourites include Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy, Anne ‎McCaffrey’s Pern series, and the fantasies of David Eddings, and lately, they’ve been joined ‎by J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and a few others. Of those, David Eddings was probably my ‎greatest inspiration.‎I began to wonder if I could create my own world, one just as believable and multi-layered as ‎theirs. Could I create a world with its own history, geography, social structure, deities, and all ‎the rest? One that hung together? That a reader could believe in? It became a challenge, one I ‎really wanted to see if I could meet. So I dusted off my writing skills, learned a few more, ‎cranked up the imagination, and got busy. I’d always been good at creative writing, but ‎though I’d made a few attempts to write after I left school, none of them came to anything. ‎That was until I started writing fantasy. Suddenly, I knew I’d come home. ‎I quickly discovered that I’m not the sort of writer who can plan a book (or a world!) before I ‎start. I just can’t do it. But I can create characters, and suddenly the characters took on a ‎reality of their own and took over the stories, often to the extent that they actually surprised ‎me. And the stories worked. Their world worked. Sometimes I had to go back and fix the ‎odd contradiction, but mostly it worked and was very natural and organic. Even though my ‎first attempts were pitiful, I knew I’d found where I belong. I persevered, I learned, I wrote. ‎I discovered that the characters are key for me. Once I get them right, they tell their own ‎story. I was away. There were dark days during which my stories became my refuge, my ‎characters my friends. And I kept writing. There were happy times when I didn’t need a ‎refuge, but my characters were still my friends, and they drew me inexorably back. I kept ‎writing. ‎And now, I hope my characters may become your friends too, my worlds ones where you also ‎like to walk; perhaps even your refuge from dark days. Come join me in a world where magic ‎is real and the gods are near, where beasts talk and men and women achieve things they never ‎dreamed they could. But most of all, come and have fun! ‎Happy reading.‎Ash.‎

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

‎Oh, it’s you. Allanda, the woman in the room ‎next door to Tren’s, poked her head out as Tren ‎walked past. Have you been out practising again?‎

‎Of course, Tren said. Exams are coming up ‎fast, and I need to do well. My whole future hinges ‎on this.‎

Allanda shook her head as she withdrew back into ‎her room. ‎

Tren went on her way, reflecting that she was ‎gaining a reputation for being excessively nervous ‎about her final exams. Her stock explanation when ‎someone asked about all the work she was putting in ‎lately was, Well, I want to specialise in magic, so I ‎absolutely have to do well enough to get into the ‎Dragon Force. ‎

She knew some of them thought she was weird, ‎especially since they knew that she was already a ‎magical protegee and almost guaranteed Dragon Force ‎acceptance, but what else was she supposed to say? ‎She could hardly tell them that her father had told her ‎to train hard because she and her brother would be ‎going to Barana to attempt to assassinate the High ‎Priest and end this war. ‎

Now, could she? Being considered to be obsessed ‎with the exams was bad enough. She didn’t need to ‎be the local crazy woman as well. Especially since she ‎was still struggling to come to terms with it all herself. ‎And besides, she did need to do well if she was to be ‎able to apply to join the Dragon Force. Magical ‎protegee or not, there were standards to be met. ‎

She might be more or less guaranteed entry if she ‎passed the entrance exam, but she still needed to pass, ‎didn’t she? And failing would be doubly embarrassing ‎for her. Not only was she a magical protegee, but her ‎brother, her twin, no less, was already a yeoman, and ‎she was still an apprentice. And she was supposed to ‎be the bright one of the family. How humiliating was ‎that? ‎

Her brother Tif and her three officer cadet friends ‎had been allowed to step right over final exams and all ‎that nonsense and move straight into their careers as ‎soon as martial law came into force. The friends had ‎been close to the end of their cadet course anyway, ‎and the Technology Corps could hardly wait to grab ‎Tif. In fact, they’d promoted and assigned him that ‎very same day!‎

Yet, despite being called in to help the ‎dragonkillers in the recent battle, despite having put ‎her life on the line in battle, despite having fought and ‎even killed a dragon on her own after the ‎dragonkillers themselves had been decimated in the ‎fighting, Tren had been sent back to the apprentice ‎barracks and her training as soon as the battle was ‎over. ‎

She was still trying to work out the logic behind ‎that. She assumed there must be some, although the ‎whole thing felt terribly unfair to her. It had been ‎really hard to settle back into the life of an apprentice ‎after serving in a professional capacity like that.‎

Especially since training had continued for the ‎other apprentices, so she’d found herself, once again, ‎behind in her work. It was as though life had gone on ‎without her, as though she didn’t count for anything. ‎The magicians had been happy to have her help, but ‎they didn’t want to keep her, and the apprentices ‎hadn’t waited for her.‎

If she was strictly honest with herself, she’d ‎struggled not to fall into depression that first week ‎back. It was as if she didn’t fit, didn’t belong ‎anywhere any more. The experiences she’d had during ‎the battle set her apart from the other apprentices, for ‎whom life had gone on as usual and the battle had ‎been no more than an exciting diversion. ‎

She wasn’t sure she would have managed to settle ‎even now if not for her father returning from his ‎mission to Barana with the news that he believed the ‎Kaldish who had been hunting them on their way ‎there to the stronghold to be correct, and that she and ‎Tif were the twins mentioned in the Oracle of Orans.‎

That had most definitely got her attention and, ‎when her father had suggested that it would be just as ‎well for them to step up their training in preparation ‎for the mission he was positive they were going to be ‎sent on, she had taken that to heart. She wasn’t sure ‎what Tif was doing about it, but she’d immediately ‎started to train and study harder. Perhaps it was just ‎that it gave her an excuse to be different.‎

But if Prand was right, then she needed to be as ‎ready as she could manage, not just physically, but ‎magically and in every other way as well. One could ‎not expect, for instance, to make one’s way through a ‎foreign country without knowing anything of the ‎society and culture and not expect to stand out like a ‎sore thumb. ‎

True, they would have Prand with them, and he ‎was used to sneaking around Barana. As she and her ‎brother had recently discovered, he’d been doing it ‎successfully for decades. And as the Lord of ‎Clandestine Ops, he was the best of the best. But, ‎even so, they couldn’t rely on him for everything. ‎

They would need to know how to behave as ‎Baraniti, too, if they were to make it through ‎successfully. So, as well as catching up the work she ‎was behind; as well as studying for her final exams, ‎which were creeping ever closer, she’d begun to train ‎harder and also set herself to research both battle and ‎general magic and Baraniti social customs.‎

It was a heck of a workload. The one thing that ‎could be said for it was that she no longer had time to ‎brood about her situation. She was working almost ‎from the moment she woke up in the morning until her ‎head hit the pillow when the lights went out at night. ‎She even ate her meals with a book propped up in ‎front of her these days. ‎

Amazingly enough, she was enjoying the work ‎and not really finding it stressful at all. Battle magic or ‎something similar was what she wanted to specialise ‎in, and the research was giving her a good insight into ‎the sorts of things she would be dealing with if she ‎did decide to take that path. ‎

And she was finding out that knowing your ‎enemy was a very good thing to do. The reading she ‎was doing into Baraniti society was serving to ‎humanise the Baraniti, and that in turn, was cutting ‎them down to size, making them seem less terrifying, ‎more human, and therefore, more beatable. ‎

Not that she hadn’t already fought a few ‎engagements and lived to tell the tale, but somehow, ‎she’d always thought that was due more to luck than ‎ability. The Baraniti, and especially the Kaldish, had ‎remained huge, powerful and daunting in her mind. ‎Now, she was changing that, and it could only be a ‎good thing. ‎

Respect for one’s enemy was a healthy thing. ‎Being intimidated by them didn’t work so well. It was ‎a weakness that she’d actually failed to recognise until ‎the reading started to change it, but one she was glad ‎to leave behind. She was reasonably confident that, ‎next time she was in that sort of situation, she would ‎do better. ‎

She dropped her stuff in her room, grabbed her ‎bathing things and headed for the baths, feeling ‎sweaty and grubby after her workout. The baths were ‎one of her favourite things about the barracks, a touch ‎of pure luxury that she appreciated very much. ‎

There were hot springs beneath the caverns of the ‎city, and hot water from those was pumped up to fill ‎the baths. It had a slightly sulphurous smell, but she ‎was more than happy to accept that in exchange for ‎the luxury of being able to bathe at any time of the ‎day without waiting for water to heat. ‎

The water was continually circulated, so it was ‎always clean and hot and ready to be enjoyed. Tren ‎disrobed quickly and slipped into her chosen pool. ‎There were four of these, each capable of holding ‎several people. Today, she’d chosen the one furthest ‎from the door, where she could hope to be alone. She ‎wasn’t in the mood for company.‎

She washed first, scrubbing her body and hair ‎clean, and then lay back, letting herself float, letting ‎the warm water soak out the tension and soothe the ‎sore bits. She’d been sparring with one of the officer ‎cadets, and he’d got in a couple of good whacks that ‎she thought were probably going to bruise. ‎

But that was all right. At least he’d given her a ‎good workout. That was something that was difficult ‎to find among the current crop of apprentices, Tren ‎had discovered. She’d been trained by Prand, of ‎course, but she’d also worked and trained as a town ‎guard and fought in a couple of life and death ‎encounters on the way there. ‎

The apprentices were kids. Even the ones who’d ‎been well-trained by their parents before starting their ‎formal training lacked any real-world experience. That ‎was what made the difference, she thought. They ‎treated training more or less like a game and therefore ‎they lacked intensity. Or something. She wasn’t quite ‎sure what it was. All she knew was that they didn’t ‎push her nearly hard enough. ‎

Being able to beat green kids wasn’t enough, not ‎when she was facing the prospect of having to ‎possibly fight her way through Barana. Well, ‎hopefully, not through all of Barana, but certainly, ‎they may have to fight their way through the temple ‎complex to get to the High Priest.‎

And his guards were going to be a whole lot more ‎serious than a bunch of teenage apprentices. They ‎would be highly-trained Kaldish, the assassin caste of ‎the Baraniti, and Warnish, the priestly caste. There ‎may even be Hovarnash with their dragons. In fact, ‎there was almost certain to be. ‎

Come to think of it, perhaps she’d better start ‎researching dragonkiller spells and techniques as well ‎as battle magic. She’d avoided doing that up till then. ‎She hadn’t liked the dragonkillers, finding them ‎arrogant and boastful, and that had put her off ‎everything to do with them. ‎

But that was stupid, really. Just because they were ‎odious as people didn’t mean they didn’t know what ‎they were doing when it came to fighting dragons, ‎and if she might soon be fighting dragons herself, she ‎needed that expertise. ‎

She couldn’t count on another dragon obligingly ‎presenting its eye to be shot at, as had happened in the ‎recent battle. And she certainly didn’t intend to die ‎just because she was too proud to take help where she ‎could get it.‎

With an abrupt movement, Tren sat up, pushing ‎her wet hair back and wiping water from her eyes. She ‎needed to know more about what her father had ‎found out. She needed to know what she was facing. ‎She needed to know why Prand was so insistent that ‎she and Tif were the ones the prophecy was talking ‎about.

When he’d told them about it, Prand had made it ‎sound as though the whole thing was perfectly clear ‎and there was no question that they were the ones it ‎meant. But then, in virtually the next breath, he’d said ‎that the High Command would argue for months ‎looking at different sets of twins. ‎

Tren hadn’t thought of it at the time, but those ‎two statements didn’t match. And while she didn’t ‎know much – well, anything at all, when you got right ‎down to it – about Baraniti prophecy, there were ‎plenty of examples of Aranisti ones in the scriptures. ‎And one thing was for sure: no one could claim that ‎they were either clear or straightforward.‎

Of course, it was possible that Baranitus spoke to ‎his followers in plain language, but Tren didn’t think ‎so, somehow. If that was so, then why was there an ‎entire section of the Cyphers Unit devoted to ‎unravelling the meaning of his prophecies? ‎

And if the prophecy that was supposed to be ‎about her and Tif was the usual cryptic mumbo-jumbo, ‎it could be open to all sorts of interpretations. She ‎really wanted to hear it for herself. More to the point, ‎she wanted to know what people conversant with ‎Baraniti prophecy thought of it. ‎

Her father had promised to explain in greater ‎detail when he next met with them. That was ‎supposed to have been that very night, but Tren had ‎received a message yesterday informing her that he ‎couldn’t make it. He was being sent out as part of a ‎delegation to the surrounding towns and would be ‎away for a couple of weeks at least.‎

The strongholds and the dragonfighters ‎themselves were supposed to be supported by tithes ‎from the general populace so they didn’t have to earn ‎a living and could spend all their time training and ‎protecting the country. Which was fair enough since ‎they put their lives on the line so the rest of the ‎population didn’t have to. ‎

But over the two hundred years since war last ‎broke out, people had slowly stopped tithing. The ‎dragonfighters (except for a few like Tren and Tif) ‎might have known that the Baraniti and their dragons ‎were still there, but the popular belief was that there ‎were no more dragons, that they had been ‎exterminated and war would never come again. ‎Wishful thinking, perhaps.‎

However that belief had come about, the result ‎was that the dragonfighters had come to be seen as ‎obsolete, unnecessary, and undeserving of support. In ‎fact, they’d become, according to some, lazy parasites ‎making themselves rich off the backs of hard-working ‎families. The tithes had eventually dried up, except for ‎those of the truly devout, who saw tithing as their ‎religious duty. ‎

Unable to sway public opinion, largely because the ‎dragons had been decimated, if not totally destroyed ‎and were no longer seen, there had been nothing the ‎dragonfighters could do except to accept the new ‎order. The strongholds, already growing some of their ‎food, moved towards complete self-sufficiency. ‎

Dragonfighter families, no longer required to ‎continually train and fight, began to find work and ‎earn their own keep. But now, the Baraniti and the ‎dragons were back, and every dragonfighter who was ‎fit and active was needed equipped and ready to fight ‎at a moment’s notice. ‎

Now, instead of working the farms, they would ‎be training for battle. Some of the fitter non-‎combatants, those who for some reason couldn’t fight ‎but were still well and reasonably able, would be ‎drafted in to help fill the gaps in the agricultural ‎workforce, but it wouldn’t be enough to ensure that ‎full production continued. They needed those tithes.‎

CHAPTER TWO

So, it had been decided to strike while the iron ‎was hot. Accordingly, a delegation was being sent out ‎to those settlements that the stronghold had just saved ‎from attack to demand the reinstatement of full ‎tithing. It was reasoned that, if they could get to them ‎while they were still shaken, before they had time to ‎forget how scared they’d been, they’d have a better ‎chance. ‎

And Prand was to be part of that delegation. Tren ‎could quite see that it was an important job and that it ‎couldn’t be put off. She could also see why her father ‎had been included. Here, he was a lord and a hero. In ‎his other life in the outside world, he was a local ‎businessman, well-known in the surrounding district. ‎He was a good choice all around. But it was still ‎frustrating that she’d have to wait weeks more to find ‎out what she wanted to know. ‎

She’d also had a message from Tif, telling her that ‎he’d be down to take her to dinner anyway. That ‎would be pleasant. She saw almost nothing of her ‎brother these days since she was stuck down here, and ‎he was busy up on Level Four. It would be good to ‎get together and catch up with each other’s news. ‎

But it still wouldn’t answer her questions. It really ‎was most vexing. But right now, she’d better get out ‎of here and get some work done if she was going to ‎be spending the evening with Tif. She wrung the ‎worst of the water out of her hair and headed for the ‎edge of the pool.‎

By the time she went out to meet Tif a few hours ‎later, she’d finished the assignment she was working ‎on and was up to date with her classwork at long last. ‎It felt good to get that out of the way. That was the ‎last assignment of the course. Now, she could ‎concentrate on her personal study and her final exams.‎

Those were coming up fast. Only a few weeks ‎now. She wasn’t sure whether it was two weeks or ‎three before lessons ended, but she knew it was close. ‎Then there would be a week off in which they could ‎devote themselves to studying for the exams, and then ‎there would be the exams themselves. Four or five ‎weeks and basic training would be over.‎

She wondered briefly where she would end up ‎after that. Everyone graduated as an OS, of course. ‎She would immediately apply to the Dragon Force, ‎but that wasn’t instant, even if she was accepted. ‎There was an entrance exam, and then she would have ‎to wait for the results of that and then wait to see if ‎they accepted her. ‎

She imagined that, even with the expedited ‎acceptance she’d been promised for her part in the ‎battle, even being a magical protegee, that process ‎would take time. No doubt, there was a procedure ‎that had to be followed and, since no one had seen fit ‎to take any shortcuts with her so far, she didn’t think ‎the advent of martial law would affect that process, ‎either, whatever it was.‎

All of which meant that she could be waiting a ‎month or more to hear. And meantime, she would be ‎expected to serve in her capacity as an OS. OSs were ‎the general dogsbodies of the army. The regular ‎soldiers, the clerks, the sentries, the janitors and lift ‎crews were all OSs. She might be assigned to ‎anything. ‎

She shrugged. Oh well, it would all be experience. ‎She hopefully would not be there forever, whatever it ‎was. And if she was assigned to something basic that ‎she could forget about at the end of her shift, like ‎sentry duty or working the lifts, that would actually ‎be good. It would give her time to continue with her ‎study and training. ‎

She’d left a little early, deciding to walk out to ‎the lift station to meet Tif, and now, as she ‎approached, she could see a lift car making its ‎ponderous way down from above, clanking and ‎swaying. She wondered if that was the one Tif was ‎on. ‎

This was the time he’d said he’d be arriving, so he ‎was probably on either this one or the next. Tif was ‎one of those people who are always on time. Tren ‎hurried forward as the lift descended and the crew ‎moved to secure it. She was still a short distance away ‎when the doors opened and Tif stepped out.‎

He waved. She waved back and slowed her pace, ‎looking him over as she waited for him to come up ‎with her. He looked happy, she noticed. The new job ‎must be going well. And he definitely suited that ‎uniform. He was quite the little heartthrob, in fact. ‎She’d bet money that all the single females on Level ‎Four were swooning over him.‎

She caught her breath sharply, surprised by a ‎sudden, quite unexpected jolt of jealousy. She’d ‎thought she’d come to terms with the fact that he’d ‎been advanced and she hadn’t, but apparently, that ‎wound was still a little raw. She just wished she ‎understood why she’d been left where she was. ‎Maybe then, she wouldn’t feel so abandoned.‎

‎Hi, sis, Tif said, grinning.‎

The jealousy fled as quickly as it had come. It was ‎the same old Tif. He hadn’t changed at all. Tren ‎stepped forward into the hug he offered.‎

‎So, how are things up on Level Four? she asked ‎as she stepped back and they began to walk back ‎towards the settlement.‎

‎Good, Tif said. I’m still getting used to it, of ‎course. But no, it’s good. He barked a laugh. I was ‎kind of terrified, you know. I mean, I worked out ‎how to do the membrane thing, but that was almost an ‎accident. I was scared that I would never do anything ‎like that again and end up a failure.‎

Tren snorted. Like that was going to happen!‎

‎Well, no, it didn’t, Tif said. Not so far, ‎anyway. But it might have. And I tell you, Tren, being ‎jumped ahead the way I was might seem like a lucky ‎break, but it definitely has its problems too. ‎Remember how you had trouble when they put you ‎ahead in magic and you had to struggle to catch up ‎because you didn’t know the terms and definitions ‎and all that basic stuff?‎

‎Yeah.‎

‎Well, same principle, except that I don’t have a ‎textbook to help me. There’s so much I don’t know ‎that I didn’t even realise I needed to know. And now ‎I’m having to just pick it up as I go along, and I’m not ‎even sure I’m going to learn all of it. I have this ‎horrible feeling that I’m going to be limping along for ‎the rest of my career, tripping over things I don’t ‎know because I never learned them in basic training. ‎Never be sorry they didn’t push you ahead too, Tren. ‎It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, believe me.‎

‎You’re not sorry you’re there, though, are you? ‎Tren asked. ‎

‎In that way, I am, Tif said. It would be a lot ‎easier if I’d learnt that stuff along with everyone else. ‎But not for the rest of it, no. That’s good.‎

‎Well, that’s good to hear. And you do know that ‎you can find the same textbooks we use in class in the ‎library, don’t you? At least, you can down here. It ‎might pay to check with the one on Level Four. Then, ‎you could do the reading in your own time and fill in ‎the gaps.‎

‎That’s a really good idea, Tif said. I hadn’t ‎thought of that. I’ll definitely check. Although, it ‎might have to wait until after we’ve done this stuff Pa ‎told us to. I don’t have any free time now, let alone ‎adding anything else!‎

‎Join the club! Tren said.‎

They walked on, laughing, until they reached the ‎square outside the library.‎

‎You want to eat in a sit-down place or at the ‎street stalls? Tif asked. I assume the reservation Pa ‎made has been cancelled. Not that we could afford ‎that place anyway.‎

‎Yeah, he did that yesterday when he let me ‎know he wouldn’t be coming, Tren said. The ‎message said that the messenger who brought it was ‎going to cancel it, so I didn’t have to bother. Street ‎stalls are fine. They’re cheaper, the food’s just as ‎good, and we don’t have to mind our manners so ‎much.‎

Tif chuckled at that one. Then let’s start at that ‎place Knight Valina introduced me to, he said. I ‎love those spicy pasties and there’s nothing like them ‎on Level Four. Not that I’ve managed to find yet, ‎anyway.‎

‎Suits me, Tren said. They are rather nice, I ‎must admit. So, what are you working on now? she ‎asked as they began to walk again. Or am I not ‎allowed to ask?‎

‎You’re probably not supposed to, but no one’s ‎told me to keep quiet, so that’s all right, Tif said. I ‎have a list of about half a dozen things from the ‎battle, actually. I thought I’d struggle to find things to ‎work on, you know, but I found the first one before I ‎even got promoted.‎

‎How did you manage that? Tren asked. ‎

‎Well, it has to do with why I had to run down all ‎those stairs to let the High Command know about the ‎incoming Baraniti army, Tif said.‎

But just then they arrived at the food stall, so the ‎conversation was suspended while they bought their ‎food. ‎

‎Anyway, Tif said as they walked away again, ‎clutching their dinner, Knight Valina thought we ‎may have been the first to see the Baraniti because we ‎were up so high, but think about it, Tren. There are ‎sentries all over these mountains, both close in and ‎away out. The outer ones wouldn’t have been that far ‎behind us in spotting them, but I know for a fact that ‎it was over two hours after I got there that any of ‎them got a message through. Do you know why?‎

‎I assume you must have been in a better situation ‎than you thought for spotting them first, Tren said as ‎they reached a park and seated themselves side by ‎side on a bench.‎

‎No, that’s not it, Tif said around a mouthful of ‎meat and pastry. The outer sentries spotted them ‎about ten minutes after we did.‎

‎Well, then, I’m stumped, Tren said. ‎

‎The reason is the same one that made me run ‎down all those steps, Tif said. There is no quick ‎method of communication between here and the ‎sentry posts. They have to physically send a runner ‎back with the message.‎

‎What? But that doesn’t even make sense, Tren ‎said. If the Baraniti had been closer when they were ‎spotted or had been travelling faster, we may not have ‎had time to prepare. Or the messenger might not even ‎have made it through if there were scouts in the hills. ‎It could have been a disaster.‎

‎I know. It doesn’t make sense. But that’s the ‎way it’s done. Even in here, there’s no way to send a ‎message except to have someone run up and down all ‎those stairs or clank around in the lifts. I can’t believe ‎no one’s ever thought to do something about it.‎

‎Maybe there was a way once, but it’s been ‎forgotten or something, Tren said. It has been two ‎hundred years since the last war, after all.‎

‎Well, I prefer that explanation to the one where ‎no one ever thought of it at all, Tif said. But ‎anyway, that’s what I’m working on at the moment. ‎It’s not exactly weapon development, but it is related, ‎and Knight Boltas is happy for me to do it. We’ve got ‎a group of technologists and engineers working ‎together on it.‎

‎That definitely sounds like valuable work, Tren ‎said. That could save a lot of lives.‎

‎Hopefully, Tif said. "I still can’t really believe ‎that a society that has some brilliant engineers and ‎magic has never worked this out before. And then, ‎when we were in the battle, I noticed that the ‎catapults don’t seem to have any kind of targeting ‎system. They just keep making test shots until they get ‎the right range. That seems bizarre to me, too, so I’m ‎hoping to work on that when I’ve finished the ‎message thing. And I’m fairly sure there has to be a ‎better way to raise and lower the emergency lift than ‎that hand crank. Although, part of that may be to do ‎with the enemy being able to find the entrances by ‎sensing the magic. But even so, I can’t see that it’s ‎necessary to have to crank the thing the entire way."‎

‎I could go along with that, Tren said. I had to ‎crank it all the way up to Level Twelve with a ‎wounded colleague after I killed that dragon, and I ‎can tell you, it’s bloody hard work!‎

‎You killed that dragon? Tif asked. The one that ‎you saved me from?‎

‎Well, yeah. Once you’d gone, I tried to sneak ‎away, but it spotted me. I managed to kill it before it ‎killed me.‎

‎Can you prove it? Tif asked intently.‎

‎Yes, actually. A magician named Wonin saw the ‎whole thing. He was the injured colleague that I took ‎up to Level Twelve. He’d broken his leg. Why? Don’t ‎you believe me?‎

‎Yes, of course. But a dragonkiller named Attro is ‎claiming the kill.‎

‎Typical! Tren said. "That does not surprise me at ‎all. The dragonkillers as a group are arrogant, ‎conceited and condescending, and Attro is one of the ‎worst. He was supposed to be giving us a crash course ‎in dragonkilling, but mostly what he did was strut ‎around and boast about how wonderful he was. ‎

‎"He couldn’t even have ever faced a dragon ‎because they weren’t around before. But that didn’t ‎stop him. It was only because we were all good at ‎magic anyway that we managed to learn anything at ‎all. He was next to useless as a teacher.‎

‎Actually, that makes me really angry. Not that I ‎don’t get credit for the kill, that doesn’t matter. But to ‎think that he’s trying to steal it to make himself look ‎good. He’ll probably get a medal or something, and he ‎doesn’t even deserve it. That really makes my blood ‎boil.‎

‎So, who’s this Wonin bloke?‎

‎He was another of the ones, like me, who got ‎drafted in to fill in the gaps in the dragonkiller ranks, ‎Tren said. He works in the General Magic Unit, but I ‎can’t remember whether he’s a yeoman or a squire.‎

‎So, how did you manage to kill a dragon? That ‎thing was huge. I don’t ever want to see one that close ‎up again.‎

‎"Me neither. I was trying to climb up that bank ‎above the cave, hoping to get away while the dragon ‎was busy burning more forest. I would probably have ‎made it, too, except that the smoke from the fires ‎made me cough. Next thing, I look up and there’s this ‎huge eye not ten paces away, looking right at me. ‎

‎"It started to turn so it was facing me, presumably ‎so it could breathe fire at me. I knew I only had that ‎one chance, so I formed a lance from magic and half-‎threw, half-thrust it at the eye. And that was that. It ‎kind of reared up, then fell over backwards, crushing ‎its rider, and rolled down the hill until it hit a tree ‎trunk.‎

‎"I heard someone say, ‘Good kill’, and I looked ‎up to see Wonin standing there. I said something ‎about I bet the dragonkillers try to take the credit, and ‎he said no, they couldn’t because he’d seen the whole ‎thing. Although, it looks as though they’re going to ‎anyway. ‎

‎But anyway, Wonin had a broken leg, and we ‎knew that was the last dragon, so we found the cave ‎entrance and I took him up to Level Twelve to get ‎help. Actually, the medics who were working there ‎know about it, too, because I was covered in dragon ‎blood, and I remember they asked about it. Come to ‎that, the dragonkiller armourers noticed it when I ‎returned the armour. But no doubt Attro will get away ‎with claiming it and become a hero.‎

CHAPTER THREE

Tren shrugged. Whatever. I tell you, Tif, I am ‎definitely never becoming a dragonkiller. I was ‎thinking about it, but after seeing what the culture is ‎like, I wouldn’t go near it.‎

Tif wrinkled his nose. I can see why. They sound ‎charming.‎

‎Oh, they are. About as charming as a nest of ‎vipers. Have you been doing anything about the stuff ‎Pa told us to do?‎

‎Yeah, I’ve been doing a bit of training in my ‎time off and trying to think of ways my membranes or ‎other traps could be used. The trouble is, I generally ‎do better just making those things up as I go along. ‎You know, you can’t predict what the circumstances ‎are going to be, can you? I could think up a dozen ‎different things, and none of them might be any use ‎when we get there.‎

‎Yeah, I can see that, I guess.‎

‎How about you? Tif asked.‎

‎Yeah, I’m trying to work out for at least an extra ‎hour each day, and I’ve started reading up about ‎Baraniti society, and battle magic and all that. I’m ‎doing as much as I can. But I had to catch up after the ‎battle, and then there are final exams coming up in a ‎few weeks. It’s definitely keeping me busy. But I’ve ‎just finished my final assignment, so that’s one thing ‎off my plate. Except now, I’ve got to start studying ‎for exams.‎

‎Yeah, it’s not easy finding the time, Tif said. ‎‎And I never even thought of reading up about ‎Baraniti customs and all that. That’s a really good ‎idea. I’ll have to see what I can find.‎

‎Yeah, we’re going to need to be able to pass as ‎Baraniti, Tren said. At least to a casual glance. Even ‎Pa isn’t going to be able to get us through unless we ‎can at least look like Baraniti. It’s actually quite ‎fascinating, and it definitely sounds like the kind of ‎society where failing to behave correctly towards an ‎upper-class person could get you in a lot of trouble, so ‎I’d do that if I were you. She sighed I just wish I ‎knew what the prophecy actually says. Pa made it ‎sound terribly plain and straightforward, but I’ve ‎never noticed that about prophecy, myself. I’d really ‎like to know whether all this is actually worth it.‎

‎Thought you might feel that way, Tif smirked. ‎He reached inside his shirt and pulled out a folded ‎paper, which he handed to Tren.‎

‎Where did you get this? Tren gasped.‎

‎I’ve made a few friends here and there, Tif said. ‎‎But for Aranisul’s sake, don’t wave that around or ‎tell anyone you’ve got it. The High Command is ‎keeping it under wraps until they decide what to do ‎about it. My friend was not supposed to copy it and ‎he certainly wasn’t supposed to hand it on. He could ‎be in a lot of trouble if it becomes known that he did.‎

‎Got it, Tren said. ‎

‎He got it for me because he knows we may be ‎involved, Tif said. And I wonder if Pa will actually ‎talk to us about it now that the High Command has ‎gone all secretive. You know how uptight he is about ‎rules.‎

Tren burst out laughing. Yeah, the teenage ‎tearaway turns into the super-correct, uptight adult. ‎It’s totally bizarre. She abruptly stopped laughing ‎and turned to look at her brother. "You know, it is ‎bizarre. It’s so bizarre that I’m not entirely sure I ‎believe in it when I stop to think about it. ‎

‎I mean, it’s not like he’s some mild-mannered, ‎nerdy procurement clerk or something, is it? He’s the ‎Lord of Clandestine Ops, so there has to be a fair bit ‎of that tearaway still in there somewhere. I remember ‎once when we were in the cave, he went out to see ‎where the Kaldish were, and he came back grinning ‎from ear to ear and said he’d forgotten how much fun ‎that was. I wonder if he’s as uptight and starchy as he ‎appears, or if he feels he has to set a good example for ‎us or something.‎

‎What, you mean he’s doing the whole ‎responsible parent thing and he’s someone different ‎with everybody else? Tif asked.‎

‎Yeah.‎

Tif looked thoughtful. It could be, you know. ‎According to the same friend who got the you-know-‎what for me, the people who work for Pa virtually ‎worship him, and I can’t really see clandestine ‎operatives doing that for the sort of person who got ‎his knickers in a knot over me staying up a bit later ‎when your room was trashed, can you?‎

‎Did he? Tren asked.‎

‎Oh, hell, yeah. He got this really pained ‎expression when I started to follow him back to your ‎dormitory and said I should go to my dorm because ‎he’d already got me one dispensation to stay out late ‎and he couldn’t be seen to be favouring his children.‎

Tren burst out laughing. No, you’re right, that ‎absolutely does not gel with some daredevil ‎clandestine operative, does it? Or the person who ‎climbed the chains for a bet, come to that. And when ‎you think back, he wasn’t really like that on the way ‎here, was he? In fact, he totally enjoyed making us ‎squirm for not believing him about the dragons. Tren ‎looked at Tif, her eyes dancing. I wonder if he got ‎some criticism for not letting us come for training ‎before.‎

‎More likely he got ribbed for having two kids ‎who didn’t believe in dragons, Tif said. That would ‎be kind of hilarious, wouldn’t it? And it could have ‎happened. After all, he does seem to have been a bit ‎obsessive about the secrecy of the stronghold, doesn’t ‎he? Everyone I’ve talked to about it grew up knowing ‎about it and visiting it at least once, usually many ‎times. The fact that we never did and never had any ‎contact with any other dragonfighters must have ‎influenced how we thought about it all.‎

‎Well, I don’t imagine that he’s going to admit it ‎to us if he did, Tren said. If he did, he’d then have ‎to admit that it’s his fault we didn’t believe him about ‎the dragons.‎

‎Yeah, I can’t really see that happening either, ‎Tif said. ‎

‎I wonder if it was a lot harder on him than he ‎ever admitted, having to raise us after Ma died, Tren ‎said. ‎

‎Perhaps, Tif said. Although, he made a pretty ‎good job of it overall, didn’t he? I mean, neither of us ‎became criminals or are too screwed up, are we?‎

‎No, I guess not. It’s really only his obsession ‎with the whole secrecy thing that caused problems. ‎Unfortunately, it affected quite a big bit of our lives.‎

‎Yeah, but when you think about it, you can put ‎that down to his training, don’t you think? I mean, ‎he’s a spy, Tren. Secrecy and keeping secrets are sort ‎of his stock in trade, aren’t they?‎

‎Yeah, you’re right, actually. That does explain it, ‎doesn’t it? Tren said. So, what did you make of the ‎thing, you know, what’s written on this paper you ‎gave me? ‎

‎"Well, it could be about us, Tif said. But then ‎again, it could be about some other set of boy/girl ‎twins. There are features that identify them, and those ‎could apply to us, but they could also be interpreted ‎some other way. I’m going with the theory that Pa ‎saw something in there that convinced him rather than ‎that it’s just wishful thinking on his part. He isn’t ‎really the wishful thinking type, and who in their right ‎mind would wish for their children to have to risk ‎their lives on that sort of mission anyway?"‎

‎One who considers sneaking up on an ‎encampment of armed and alert Kaldish fun? Tren ‎said.‎

‎Well, yeah, there is that, Tif said. But anyway, ‎I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and I looked ‎really carefully, but I just can’t see anything in there ‎that would point specifically to us. You can have a ‎look later and see if you can spot anything, but I think ‎we’ll just have to ask him why he’s so convinced that ‎it means us.‎

‎Well, he said he’d explain it to us in greater ‎depth, Tren said. And if your friend wasn’t ‎supposed to hand on the paper, then we should ‎probably just shut up about it. Besides, Pa’s likely to ‎tell us more of what he thinks about it if he doesn’t ‎know we’ve already seen it.‎

‎What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him? Tif said. ‎

‎And can’t hurt your friend either, Tren said. ‎‎Don’t forget, Pa’s become Lord Uptight lately, so we ‎don’t know what he might do about that.‎

‎That’s a point, Tif said. All right, agreed. We ‎keep our mouths shut and these copies to ourselves. ‎Oh, hey, it’s the weekend, isn’t it, so that means it’s ‎late night at the market. Let’s go have a look. I kind ‎of miss the market down here.‎

‎Isn’t there one on Level Four? Tren asked. ‎‎Surely, there must be.‎

‎Oh, yeah, there are three, actually, but they don’t ‎have the same atmosphere as the one here. I don’t ‎know if it’s all the apprentices or what, but this one ‎always has a kind of bright, happy feel, almost as ‎though it’s an ongoing party.‎

‎Does it? Tren asked.‎

‎Yeah, it does. You probably don’t notice it. I ‎never really did when I was down here. Probably ‎because I had nothing to compare it to. But now I’ve ‎seen other markets, and this one is definitely the ‎happiest.‎

‎If you say so, Tren said. Come on, then. I can ‎afford to stay out tonight because I’ve just finished ‎the very last assignment of the course, but I have to be ‎in by lights-out, of course. No Pa to get me a ‎dispensation this time.‎

‎Oh, yeah, I kind of forgot about that, Tif said ‎glumly.‎

‎You’d have to leave about then in order to get ‎back upstairs in time to get a decent night’s sleep ‎anyway, Tren said. So, why are we wasting time?‎

Tif laughed and they both got to their feet. They ‎stopped to wash their hands in the fountain and ‎dispose of their rubbish, and then they headed for the ‎market square, where they spent a happy couple of ‎hours looking at the stalls and meeting people.‎

Tren hadn’t thought of that, but Tif hadn’t been ‎gone all that long, of course,