Chapter 42- An Acord

A meeting, why was it always a damn meeting? At least the Captain preferred to assemble the night shift in more comfortable surroundings than Sefton did his team. They were assembling within the outer rooms of his apartments, each in their own time, to wait for the man to emerge from his office to brief them. Cadryn, having been with the Vaast at the time of their ominous discovery, got to watch the rest of the Keepers drift into the room from a reading chair by the windows overlooking the hanging gardens.

Bahsa Fen arrived first, her arms laden with baskets of food for the dawn meal and each hand tightly gripping a large pitcher. Cadryn was quick to leap to assist, but mostly just got in a way, as the Quartermistress deftly laid the nourishment on the narrow dining table by the fire place. Taking down plates and glasses from a cupboard she shook her head slowly, setting dark curls of hair waving in the fire’s glow.

“He’s locked away I see,” she whispered conspiratorially, “never a good sign.”

Cadryn licked his cracked lips, tasted the salt of the mines, “well, what we found down there was anything but good.”

Reaching for the larger of the two pitchers, Bahsa poured out some ale into a mug and handed it him. “You should have a berry tart,” she said, pointing a cloth covered basket. “Take your mind of it for a moment.”

Cadryn did so before retreating to his chair to watch the false dawn reveal the details of the undulating vines in the gardens across from the window. The doors to the apartment swung open again, loud on their hinges, and Felina entered swaggering and out of breath.

“Everyone’s been informed,” she reported, ands spearing a tart with her index finger collapsed onto a chair at the dining table. Eating it with gusto, she poked under another basket’s covering, and discovering an egg tort, let out a small squeal of joy. “You’re the best, Bahsa,” she beamed, before practically swallowing the first pastry in one bite.

“Careful, you’ll choke. Or worse, Vaast will come out here and see your lack of manners.”

Grumbling, Felina poured herself some milk and tried to eat like a person. The sound of voices preceded the last two members of the night shift, as Mareth and Encara joined them, both dressed for toll duty.

“The Gates are barred and sealed,” Mareth said, removing the heavy chain guard’s coat and hanging it on a hook by the door. Tugging the padded tunic she wore underneath it loose from her pants, she stretched her arms high before heading to the table of refreshments.

“Guard Duty being over early is always a welcome surprise,” Encara added, tossing her own coat over the back of chair in the smoking room with a sigh. She made of show of untying the strings on her tunic and airing it out before helping herself to a cigar. Meeting Cadryn’s eyes, she snipped the tip, and walked over to the table with the others, “Mareth, dear, would you be so kind?”

Snapping her fingers an arc of blue flames ran across the end of Mareth’s thumb. A mischievous smile creased the edge of her mouth, “Careful, you might burn yourself.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Encara replied, smoothly, and leaning in, held the end of cigar above the flame as she took a few sharp puffs.

The doors to the Captain’s office slammed open then, and he entered at a brisk walk, an odd grey leather tome in one hand and a map in the other. He went to the reading table in the smoking room and spread out the map scroll. The message clear, the dining area was rapidly abandoned as the night shift gathered around him. Cadryn gulped down the rest of his tort, and went over to join them feeling an odd apprehension in his stomach for what lay in store. The map before them was a detailed layout of Neeft’s lower levels: The Underground Cells, and the Tunnels.

“We have a problem,” Vaast began, pointing to a circled spot Cadryn recognized as the grate where Felina and he found the fingernails. “Someone is probing our defenses. Did you find any other signs?”

“Here, here, and some more scratches over here,” Felina replied, jabbing an oily finger at the map. Vaast grumbled, brushing at the smudges.

“There doesn’t seem to be any pattern to it,” Encara said taking a draw of her cigar, “In fact, I’d say those are just the most accessible points from the outside.”

“Yer right,” Felina cut in, annoyed at the interruption. “No clever about it, just poking about.”

“That’s what I had hoped was the case,” Vaast said, opening the tome, “that perhaps the energies of the Starless Night created a few wild undead from the mass internment at the mines. That these dead wandered up from the old tunnels in an attempt to return home.” Finding the page he sought, the Captain set the book down for them to see, on one page was a portrait, perfectly capturing the robed man from the mines. “That was not the case.”

“Zahkar the Ivory,” Bahsa read aloud from the facing page, “born thirty seven before founding, so he is known to the Empire, and well from the look of it . . . he’s shown up to a score of battles over the past century.”

Mareth reached out, closed the book and tossed it to the side, “He’s a parasite, a vulture. Nothing more, same for every necromancer. There’s a reason the art is banned from the Imperial program.”

“Jealousy, I’d think,” Encara said, her face concealed behind a cloud of smoke. “You Imperial mages do hate anyone knowing more about something than you do.”

“It’s forbidden, for that alone we should act,” Cadryn said, growing weary of Encara’s tone. “Right, Captain?”

The faces of the others all turned, but Vaast remained silent, the only reply the scratching of his beard. The gardens beyond the window faded back into uniform black as the false dawn ended. After what felt like a long time, their commander let out a slow sigh and spoke, his voice tired.

“What do you make of this, Fen?”

Sniffing at the acrid smoke from Encara’s cigar, Bahsa Fen began to pack her own pipe, and nodding, began her analysis. “We have too few forces to risk a direct confrontation with a necromancer, much less one as experienced as Zahkar. We should stick to our strength: the Neeft. Work to secure any possible breeches in the old tunnels we’re presently unaware of and increase our patrols to keep an eye on his activity . . . Work on a battle plan in case the Neeft is Zahkar’s goal.”

“How do we know it’s not,” Cadryn said, pacing angrily around the edge of the carpet, the idea of doing nothing made him sick. “Mareth, you could take this guy out, I’m sure.”

She smiled at his words, but it was a sad one, “No, I’m not confident that I could.”

“What she means,” Encara said, “is that she isn’t trained in countering necromancy.”

“That’s enough,” Captain Vaast rumbled, and began to roll up the map. “It’s decided: We’ll bolster our defenses and keep close watch on Zahkar. I’ll inform Rof and Sefton. Felina, see about a scouting plan. Everyone, Dismissed.”

“Aye, Aye,” Felina replied, saluting sharply, albeit from where she sprawled across the arms of a plush chair. Mareth was out the door at double time, either off to check over her stock of spells or just be away from Encara. Bahsa was trying to get Vaast to eat something, with middling success. Felina scooped up a handful of tarts on her way to the door. Only Encara remained in the smoking room, putting it to good use and watching the sun’s first true rays crawl over the battlements of the Redoubt. Cadryn went to leave and she called out, voice low.

“Cadryn, would you mind accompanying me? I’d like to show you something.”

Pausing halfway to the door, Cadryn ran and hand through his matted hair, he really just wanted to hit the baths and be asleep before the sun actually got up. “Is it going to be another nightmare about your family?” the look on Encara’s face made him regret saying it immediately.

“No,” she said, eyes falling to the ground, “it’s just a fascination I thought I might share . . .”

Inhaling slowly, Cadryn held out a hand to the door, “after you then.”

The walk from the Captain’s apartments to their unnamed destination passed in the kind of quiet only two people at the end of a long day could share. Though Encara did her best to start up small talk about the necromancer, Cadryn would not have any of it. He was still angry about the decision to leave the dark mage undisturbed, and did not notice where they were walking to until the ivy covered walls of the Library emerged before them, now even more alive and bright in the rising sun.

“I left some tea for us,” Encara said, stubbing out the last of her cigar against the stone doorway. “Would you like a cup?”

“Yes, I’m starting to fade,” Cadryn admitted and, ducking inside the small entrance, pushed wide the door for both of them. The strong scent of candle tallow and old parchment filled his nostrils. The interior of the chamber was lit by an exact mixture of natural and candle light, everywhere shelves sagged under the weight of a dizzying array of tomes, ledgers and binders. A central gallery led to a double staircase against the back wall. Taking it in, a strong sense of Deja vu overwhelmed him for a moment.

“It’s always like that,” Encara said in the same lilting Gravanik she’d spoken the first day they met. She went over to the stove where a kettle, just now boiling, waited.

Cadryn found two earthenware mugs, both glazed a cracked bronze and held them out for her to pour. The tea was strong, and spiced in the style of her homeland, it triggered memories from his own childhood of the end of long workdays at his father’s Inn. “So, what did you want to show me,” he said, blowing on the tea.

“First,” Encara said, taking his free hand in hers, “I want to apologize for what happened on the Starless Night.” She kissed the back of his knuckles, leaving a faint stain of green from painted lips. It was the proper courtly apology, from his own readings on southern courtly behavior back at the Academy. Looking up at him again, she seemed about to cry. “I was just, so afraid.”

“I accept your apology,” he said, pressing the stained knuckles to his own lips. “Though, I will call you a coward once more if you do it again.”

“That is fair,” Encara replied, dabbing at her eyes, “Now I would like to share a discovery I’ve made, if you’re up for climbing some steps.”

“If we must,” Cadryn replied, and took a long sip of the tea, the taste of citrus filling him with a sudden spark of vigor.

Encara, her own tea abandoned, led him back outside and around the base of the Library to the narrow stone stairs spiraling upwards. The steel plate left by the engineers on the wall read: Observatory of Eh’An’Zai the Dream-Killer, Approximately 400 BF. Passing it, Cadryn raised his mug, “Is there a single person who occupied this place that wasn’t some sort of lunatic, or demon, or warlord?”

Encara’s practiced laughter answered him. They had rounded the back of the library, now three stories above the rooftop below, before she answered. “Well, Oathkeeper Jalisco merely wanted peace through power, but unlike your emperor, he did not seek to bring it to rest of the world. You might say he was the sanest sort of person, for a man at least.”

Cadryn was slow responding, partly for trying to avoid giving into the urge to defend the Emperor, but also because his Gravanik was sluggish from disuse. He had yet to switch back to Provalian, enjoying the way the southern language flowed off the tongue . . . well, at least off of Encara’s tongue. They were high enough to see down into the valley, white smoke rising from chimneys in Kellen’s Veld signaled the start of the day for the village. Around the perimeter of the town he could see the line of the newly begun walls; a response the Festival night’s events.

“All peace is kept through power, the very nature of peace is little more than power at rest,” he said, turning with the stairs away from town. Now he could see the deeply shaded ravines and imagined the restless corpses wandering about within at Zakhar’s command. The stairs continued for three more revolutions of the tower, taking them up to the level of Wreckage Spire. He was sweating when they finally made it to the landing of the Observatory, a thick bronze scaffolding circled the round dome of the building. The outside of the structure was clad in more of the same, this copper remaining bright as the day it was hammered, A strange network of regular channels were cut into it.

“The door moves,” Encara said, walking around to his left, “Ever hiding from the sun.”

“Ominous,” Cadryn replied, falling into step behind.

Encara took hold of a protruding handle, the only apparent evidence of the entrance, and, pushing with all her might, forced it through an arc of motion to unlatch the door with a loud clunk. “Welcome to the Observatory,” she said breezily, and slid into the blank void of the doorway.

The adjustment from the shadow outside to the interior of the Observatory was akin to stepping out of an unlit hallway into a courtyard at noon. At first nothing was there, Cadryn could only hear Encara moving around, then her light grey tunic took shape, followed by the woman. She was waiting near the center of the chamber and gestured for him to close the door. With some reluctance, Cadryn did so the metal creaking until the daylight vanished completely. The air now stilled, he became acutely aware of how badly he smelled, but turning from the door, he quickly forgot about it as his eyes finished adjusting. Above, and all over the walls, thousands of lights shone down on them, an entire night’s sky of stars filling the ceiling to the edges of the room, where a replica of the horizon and the surrounding lands shimmered.

“Isn’t it lovely?” Encara whispered, her voice running around the room.

“It is,” Cadryn admitted, “What sky is this, it doesn’t match up with the current constellations.”

“That’s because this is the sky above us now,” she replied, and coming over to him, tugged at his arm like child, leading him out into the center of the space. “Eh’An’Zai was obsessed with tracking the patterns of the celestial. He was sure that the key to predicting the future lay within them.”

“A common obsession,” Cadryn said, still just marveling at the sight above.

“True, but the mage had a vast oracular gift, which he invested into this chamber,” she shifted her weight, depressing a small lever on the floor with a foot, the stars above whirled and shifted. “He was able to see the future path of the heavens, and took extensive notes, sadly lost to time . . . but Jalisco picked up his work.”

“And you’ve been reading his collected notes,” Cadryn said, realizing why she brought him here. “What did you find?”

“Well, it’s about to happen,” she said, the smile in her voice clear. Stepping off the lever, the stars spun back to their current location beyond the sunny sky, all but one, which continued to move of its own accord. Tracing down the edge of the dome, it eventually crossed into the map of the lands surrounding them, grew brighter, before halting in the hills west of Kellen’s Veld with a flash.

“A falling star,” Cadryn said, his voice low with awe.

“Jalisco wrote of this event, he claimed it would herald a great change for the world.”

The two of them stood in silent contemplation of this for some time before Cadryn reached out, putting a hand on Encara’s shoulder.

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” he said.

“No, thank you for trusting me enough to see it with me,” Encara replied in Provalian. “We’re comrades, after all.”

This time, Cadryn did not hear the smile in her voice, for it was easier to hide it when speaking the rough, ugly, tongue of the Empire.