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By Root 941 0

Brynd because they rarely cared for anything other than their own arcane practices. He herded them in a room together with Blavat to try to discover what might explain the nature of the bombs, then to develop useful technology to help them fight the enemy as equals. He was quickly impressed with Beami, who had taken charge of the group, and a meeting was organized for the morning, so that they could brief him on their findings. She warned him that he might not understand the sheer complexity of techniques on offer. Miffed by the usual arrogance of these people, he decided he would never properly understand what cultists got up to anyway.

That same evening Brynd leaned against the ice-cold battlement, and necked a shot of vodka for warmth, to relax. And with one eye fixed on the horizon in case . . . just in case. In this bleak weather, there wasn’t much to see.

Just what was the enemy’s motivation? Assuming these Okun had come from somewhere not part of the Boreal Archipelago, why had they needed to invade and wipe out the population of Tineag’l?

*

A key piece of information came to Brynd, just after dawn.

Marine vehicles of an unknown variety had been spotted by garuda surveillance. They were not longships, and were thought not to be constructed of wood. No sails or visible crew either, merely a dull humming sound as they thundered their way across the narrow channel towards the city. Garudas confirmed that the vessels were moving slowly, even pausing mid-crossing so that more of them could gather. They massed like a school of titan sharks, twenty by the beginning of the missives, then fifty by mid-morning. But they had not yet reached the city, and that was the main thing. It meant he still had time.

Brynd ordered his elite troops to assemble within the hour, and dispatched messengers and criers to all the northerly districts of the city.

Bells tolled across Villiren.

FORTY-TWO

Randur stood on the deck, wincing into the light. To his surprise, he did this a lot, staring into the red sun. There were vague comforts to be discovered in deep contemplation, and up here he felt he had found time to slow himself down and grow up a little. How his life had turned so bizarre and out of context, he didn’t know, and he vowed to seek out a quieter existence in future. All he needed was a place by the coast, maybe a decent local tavern in which to lose the years. Enough of the constant pressure; maybe those people in that tavern back on Folke weren’t so wrong in their attitude after all.

Under the dying rays of the sun, the Exmachina continued drifting above the cloud base, heading towards the mountains soaring up through it from the southern coast of Y’iren. They pierced the cumulus, icebergs in the sky.

Then Randur noticed something different from the panorama: one of the taller peaks appeared to be peeling fragments from its highest ridge. Vast clumps of earth were breaking off and hanging in the sky alongside. And some impossible force was keeping them afloat.

‘Artemisia,’ Randur called out to the empty deck.

A moment later, a hatch burst open and the woman-warrior came up to him. He didn’t even need to say anything. She tilted the end of her telescope and sighed. ‘This is something to cause concern,’ she decided, then dashed back along the deck.

A moment later there was frenzied activity in the skies above the ship as the Hanuman fluttered manically, unbuckling their excitement, and the Exmachina began to slow its pace and veer off-course.

Eir and Rika joined him, and gripped the railing as the ship’s motion readjusted. ‘What’s going on?’ Eir said.

Randur pointed to the huge unfalling clumps of land.

‘What is that?’ Eir whispered. She had a way of showing her apprehension by rubbing her arm above her elbow, as if she felt cold.

The wind accelerated because of the change of direction, sending his hair in tendrils across his face. ‘Whatever it is has sent Artemisia legging it, which doesn’t bode well.’

Artemisia returned with an armful of items.

‘Keep these on and you’ll be fine.’ She offered some masks