78

Tempest

Candle deposited Asher in a careful pile on the ground. One anxious glance at his unconscious form and she took to the sky again. The tower was a gleaming beacon beneath her. It lit up the night like a torch. It was already attracting attention, and they passed several dragons flying in the opposite direction, but no one paid them any mind. Candle flew hard, with Murmux right on her tail until they broke through the clouds. Zephi whooped in delight as they rose above the mists to surf the star-speckled waves.

"Are you alright?" Candle asked her, and Zephi screamed in the affirmative, the words snatched away by the wind. Twisting her neck to look back at her small passenger, Candle's worry was assuaged by the sight of the broad grin on Zephi's face.

Murmux flew at her side, his feathers rippling with lightning and his bird's face narrow and fierce. He gripped the tempest egg in his talons.

"Are we high enough?"

"Higher!" he cried, and they climbed. Up, they flew, up until the air grew thin and cold and Candle could feel Zephi's shivers against her back. "Now!" Murmux dropped the egg and it plummeted. Down into the cloud, it went and was lost to their view in seconds. "Away," said Murmux, flapping his wings frantically. "Away, as fast as we can. But which way?"

"East!"

Behind them, a low rumble shook the land. The wind rose at frightening speed, the clouds gathering and darkening. The brewing storm circled in a slow vortex, a slow boil that flung out sheets of lightning in a widening spiral. Thunder cracked, momentarily deafening Candle. Blinking the spots from her eyes she concentrated on pumping her shoulder blades and praying to her Ancestors that Zephi would be able to hang on.

"Faster!" Murmux was screaming, once her hearing returned. "Faster or we will be sucked into the storm."

Rain began to fall in thick, stinging droplets that were driven sideways by the wind. They flew wildly, fighting the roaring tempest. The pull of the storm tried to suck them back towards Angarrack like a hungry beast. As she fought the buffeting air, she wondered how devastating it was at its centre. Just as she was beginning to think they would never escape, they shot out of the cloud and into the open sky. The eternal aurora reflected off Candle's wet scales. Here, at least, the air was calm.

Candle took a deep breath and slowed her wing beats. Looking back over her shoulder the sky behind them was empty. They were alone. As far as she could tell no one was following them. So far so good.

"Where is the gate?" cried Murmux. "Which way?"

Candle looked down at the ground below. The Night Nation lay out beneath them, dark and quiet. Their wild flight had blown them far over the mountains of the interior. They were somewhere to the north of the Enchantments. Now was the time for decisions, she could no longer put off. Murmux was under the impression there was only one gate. She knew there were seven. The known locations were Hanternos, Jotham's cave and Sterlester. The Sterlester gate she had never seen but she could hazard a guess. The gates were always located in proximity to water so it was either at the spring that poured off the slopes of the Old Man or in the sea nearby. However, she did not have time to waste searching. She had entered the Night Nation at the well in Hanternos and encountered the lightning birds a short while afterwards. That meant the Necromancers might be watching that area. Jotham's gate was most likely her safest option.

Hesitating, she glanced over at Murmux. He was watching her with the intensity of a hawk.

"This way," she said, and circled down towards a thicket of trees. A thicket similar to the one she had hidden in when she had first met Murmux. Where she had tried and failed to save Aeshma from death at the hands of his brothers. From Murmux.

She landed with a thump, skidding on the moss-covered bones, and came to a halt. She remembered to let Zephi clamber off her back before transforming into her human form. Murmux joined her on the ground, a moment later. He looked around as if expecting to see the gate right there, his watchful eyes taking in every tree and rock. His tattoos were busy, she noticed, crawling across his skin in agitated spirals.

"The gate is here?" he asked, with some perplexity.

"No." Gazing up at him she took in the warm brown of his eyes, currently crinkled in puzzlement, and the smooth planes of his face that she had come to know so well. Swallowing a lump she forced herself to say the words she had been dreading. "This is farewell."

"What?"

"What?" cried Zephi, tugging on Candle's hand. "Isn't Murmux coming with us?"

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said, her eyes glued to Murmux. He was staring at her, his mouth open in shock. Closing it, a small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"You used me," he said, sounding impressed. "You made me think–"

"I'm sorry," she said, her words tumbling over each other. Even now, she wasn't sure. "I didn't mean... I wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish you could come with me. I mean, if you wanted too. Of your own free will. But I don't think you are free to do as you please." Her eyes slipped back to his tattoos. As she watched a change came over him, as sudden as a passing cloud. The smile vanished and his body tensed. His tattoos danced an agitated counterpoint to the stillness of his posture.

"Why?" he said, his voice suddenly rough. "Don't you trust me? After all this time? Don't you like me?"

Candle's stomach twisted.

"Of course, I like you–" her eyes were suddenly moist, and she blinked the tears away.

"Then why not let me come with you?" He pointed at Zephi who was looking between them with wide-eyed confusion. "You are letting the necromancer brat travel with you."

"Hey!" cried Zephi, balling her fists and glaring up at Murmux who ignored her. Candle pushed Zephi behind her and shushed the small girl. Zephi growled deep in her throat, but Candle had eyes only for Murmux.

"I don't trust you," she said. "I can't. I mean, I would be foolish to trust you, knowing everything I know..." Her gaze drifted once more to his tattoos, then back to his stricken face. "I understand how blood magic works. You might think I'm just a stupid, naive girl. But I'm not. I understand the compulsion. I know what it's like."

"And just what do you think you know?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. She blanched and took a step back.

"I am willing to bet the blood that binds the moonsilver of your tattoos is that of the Necromancer Queen," she said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "If not her, then one of her court. And I'm pretty sure she sent you after me with the sole purpose of finding the Gate. To trick me into showing you the location." His expression didn't change. A small part of her wished, desperately to be proven wrong. To believe the lies. "Remember, I watched you kill Aeshma." He swallowed, and a single tear rolled over his cheek. "I know you don't have a choice."

His eye twitched.

"Good," he said. "I'm glad you understand. You'll understand why I have to do this." Lightning-fast he grabbed her, twisting her arm behind her back and pressing the flat of his iron blade against her neck. It stung and she cried out. Zephi screamed and leapt at him but Murmux warned her away with a snarl. Candle could feel a welt forming under the cold pressure of the metal. Fighting to get loose got her nowhere, and Murmux held her with obnoxious ease. Her struggles merely made the iron wound more painful.

"Forgive me," he whispered in her ear. "But you have to show me where the Gate is. Please. I don't want to hurt you."

Candle stopped struggling and took a deep breath. After all, she had half expected something like this to happen. Murmux had told her himself, all those days ago in the necropolis. Once given an order, a lightning bird could not rest until it was fulfilled. The warning had rested there, at the back of her mind, an uncomfortable truth.

"I can't show you," she said, feeling remarkably calm. "It would destroy my world. I love everyone too much to let that happen."

"Candle–" Zephi's face was even paler than usual beneath the light of the stars. Candle caught her eyes and gave a slight shake of her head, willing the girl not to move.

"If you hurt Candle, I'll kill you," she said. "I'll kill you and throw your bones in the sea."

"This Jotham character," said Murmux, ignoring Zephi. He squeezed Candle against himself so tightly she let out a gasp. "You've told me about him. He can deal with me if I get out of hand. You know he could."

"Yes," she said, with a weak smile. She could feel his heart thudding in his chest. "But I know you are lying to me. It would not just be you. It would be you, and your brothers and the Necromancer Queen. And between you, you would lay waste to the Day Nation. To my home."

Murmux let out a strange noise, half-groan, half-sob.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, his grip tightening, "but I will. Why didn't you run away before? I thought for a moment you understood the danger. Why didn't you see?" Tears ran down his face. "Please take me to the Gate, I...I can't bear it...not again."

Candle squirmed, jabbing her elbow down into his ribs in a move she had practised with Jory and Delen in training. She connected with his stomach and he let out a whoosh of air but didn't loosen his grip.

"You can't get away," he said, tears dripping into her hair. "And I know you can't use magic while the iron is touching you, I know how dragon magic works...please, just lead me to the Gate. So I won't have to hurt you." The blade moved, and Candle felt a trickle of blood slide down over her neck.

"Fortunately," said Candle, "you and your necromancers have forgotten one thing."

"What's that?" said Murmux. She closed her eyes, praying to her Ancestors.

"I'm half-human."

She released a wave of flame with her palms, draining everything her Ancestors had gifted her. Murmux screamed as the fire licked at him, setting his hair and clothing alight. Candle darted away, grabbed Zephi by the hand and sprinted into the fell. They ran, stumbling over the uneven moss. Behind them, Murmux dropped to his knees and rolled. But she knew he would be up in moments.

Away from the influence of iron Candle had full access to the arsenal of magic her dragon heritage allowed. Running and crafting a spell at the same time was fiendishly difficult, but she dared not stop. After several false starts and a near twisted ankle, she managed to spin moisture out of the clouds, dragging it around them with breakneck speed, coaxing the droplets to form and surround them. Within moments they were running through a thick mist.

Putting her finger to her lips, she tugged Zephi off to one side, cutting across the fell at a right angle to their original path. They slowed so the noise of their flight would not give their location away. Candle kept gathering in more mist, pulling the clouds down, encouraging them to grow and grow until the mountain slopes were blanketed in their embrace. Somewhere in the distance, Candle heard the muffled sound of laughter. It was a raw, desperate sound, mingled with both joy and despair.

They paused to shelter under a dense thicket while Candle took her bearings. Before the clouds had descended she had marked the outline of the Night Spear behind them, just visible against the wheeling mass of the stars. Her limbs ached, and the wound on her neck was painful but she had never felt lighter. Her spirits lifted as she surveyed the misty outline of the mountains before her. She could hear no sign of pursuit, so she was hopeful that Murmux had lost himself on the fell. Zephi opened her mouth to speak but Candle shook her head. They could talk later.

Taking advantage of being stationary she set about creating a cool night mist to further camouflage their passage. A subtle mist this time, not clouds exploding into existence but a gradual, natural-looking phenomena that would appear commonplace to any hidden watchers. To any lightning birds above or below. She worked slowly, and with increasing delight, manipulating the threads of magic. Many hours had been spent in idleness watching the curl and ebb of the mist below Jotham's cave. Recreating it here, in the Night Nation was second nature. It felt much the same as creating a painting, layering colours and movement. Her heart sang as she worked. This is what she had been born to do. This is what had nearly been taken from her. The mist spread over the valley, and Candle watched it grow with great satisfaction.

They set off again, moving quietly. A wight burst out of the swirling mists, groaning and Zephi squealed, covering her mouth. Candle incinerated the creature, leaving only a sorry pile of ash, and a few charred bones. They passed on, uninterrupted. What would she have given for this ability in her flight from Hanternos, she mused as they began the steep climb up the side of the mountain. It would be strange to be home. Strange to be able to weave magic with impunity, without the threat of a demon looming over her shoulder and whispering dark thoughts in her ear. Strange and wonderful. She glanced up at the haze of the sky, momentarily sad that she would not have one last glimpse of the eternal aurora that gleamed in the upturned bowl of the heavens.

One last, short flight and they would be at the gate. Taking care to make sure the cloud cover was absolute Candle took off, disturbing the air as little as possible. She and Zephi landed softly on the ledge of Jotham's cave. Zephi slid off her back while Candle looked around, her heart in her throat. It was empty. She didn't know what she had expected to find. Intellectually she knew this was not the same cave she had left, but the familiar rocks and patterns tugged at her heartstrings. There was nothing to see. It was cold and dark and still. No wights, no shades, no strange unfamiliar creatures. No paintings hung on the walls, no battered old couches, no piles of well-thumbed books. No Jotham.

"What is this place?" asked Zephi, peering around at the cold darkness. "I like it."

"Just a cave," said Candle. "Come on."

With any luck, Jotham would be waiting for her on the other side. Maybe with a warm meal. She walked over to the gleaming pool of water and held out her hand to Zephi. The small girl took it, stepping up to the edge and eyeing the still waters with trepidation. The runes shone with incandescent Starfire, bright against the darkness of the mountain cave. It was twilight in the other kingdom.

“Is that the gate?” Zephi asked, her voice a nervous whisper.

"Yes," said Candle, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “Deep breath! Let’s go!”

Together, they plunged into the pool.