Half Discovered Wings (30 page)

Out of the
corner of her eye, she saw Caeles observing her from the other side
of the circle.

‘
He has mastery over some kind of creatures,’ Sarai
continued.

‘
What kind of creatures?’ Caeles asked.

‘
They’re large and black. I can’t see where there’s no light
reaching down through the trees, so I never made out any other
details. But I know that they are armoured, like a beetle,’ she
said, just as one such insect crawled up her outstretched fingers
and onto the back of her hand. ‘But I saw their faces. Almost
human, but black and terrifying, with angry mouths.’

The only other time Sarai spoke openly was when they were
only a few days from Iilyani, and she had been interrupted by
noises from above. She seemed perturbed by the rustlings amid the
sparse leaves in the trees around them, and at a guess Gabel spoke
up.

‘
They’re called goyles,’ he said. ‘They’re only dangerous if we
stop moving for too long.’

‘
You never came across them between leaving the Plains and
encountering us?’ the magus asked.

‘
No…’ said the woman, her neck straining to look upward. The
steady rise and fall of the horse made the belt around her neck
jolt. ‘But we had problems with sanguisuga.’

Suddenly Rowan heard a sound like a half-strangled yell.
Gabel’s horse stood at the peak of a small rise that was bare of
trees, and Gabel was staring in horror straight ahead. The apex of
the path rose up above the canopy, and a clear view could be seen
of the way ahead. The trees made a brown carpet stretching almost
to the horizon, where they gave way to a dark patch of ground, and
then the bright strip of the Sihn-ha Plains. Just before this was a
small clearing, many miles away still, in which the so-called
ghetto town of Iilyani sat. A black ribbon of smoke that curled up
from the place, right into the late-afternoon sky.

The town was on fire. Smoke wafted up from every building,
forming one acrid stream of cloud that reached up and up into the
atmosphere. The clearing around the town had protected the
surrounding woodland, but the dwellings hadn’t had such
fortification, and were being decimated by the fire.

‘
Iilyani burns,’ the hunter croaked, steadying his horse as it
bucked and struggled against the reins. ‘It’s on fire!’

‘
I see it,’ the magus said quietly.

Rowan and
Sarai joined them. Their steeds nuzzled each other, taking
advantage of this brief respite.

‘
Who would do such a thing?’ asked Rowan.

‘
What makes you think someone
decided
to do this?’ said Caeles
objectively. He was further down the hill, almost back underneath
the canopy. He seemed disinterested. ‘It could have been
anything.’

‘
Because this is Luxer territory,’ the magus spat. ‘And they
enjoy performing monstrous acts.’

‘
Iilyani has burned before,’ Sarai said quietly, coming up
beside Gabel. ‘This is nothing new.’

‘
It’s new for me!’ Rowan protested. Her brown eyes were wide as
she looked across at the smouldering town.

‘
The Luxers hate all people of dark skin,’ Sarai told her, her
face a frown. ‘They kill people like me and him.’ She nodded toward
the magus.

‘
Why?’

‘
Why not?’ Caeles said. He could still be seen, from between
the mostly-bare branches. ‘Why the hell not? It’s nothing new. Some
people are monsters, that’s all there is to it.’

‘
Are we all not safe?’ Rowan said hoarsely. ‘Are we all at risk
of being burned?’

‘
Our skin is dark, but not as black as theirs,’ said Gabel,
sounding almost apologetic.

‘
I’m
safe,’ Caeles said, but his back was turned. Rowan ignored
him.

‘
Why?’ Rowan pleaded. ‘We have a darkness to us! Why are
we
safe?’

‘
If
everyone with skin like yours was the enemy,’ the old man replied,
‘then there would be no-one for these people to call friends. They
need support on this continent. They had to make
allowances.’

‘
Then I’m coloured but not coloured enough?’ Rowan said, on the
verge of tears. ‘Who makes that decision? Why should Iilyani burn
and others like her people be untouched by the fire? It isn’t
human!’

‘
It’s all too human,’ Caeles said. He had come back up the hill
to meet them. His horse, like Gabel’s, struggled against the reins,
and rose and turned as its rider tried to control it. ‘It’s nothing
new, Rowan; it’s old, like me. Older. Stupid things like this
thrive in a dead world. Let’s get moving. Hanging around here will
only attract the goyles.’

‘
There’s something else,’ Sarai said. ‘If the Luxers are near,
and active, then I should tell you this: the Luxers are in league
with the
Caballeros de la
Muerte
.’

‘
What
?
’

‘
I came across one of the dark knights just outside Iilyani
when I was last there. It was talking with one of the Luxers, and
seemed to be making a bargain.’

‘
What kind of a bargain?’ the magus demanded. Rowan detected
fierceness in him now that was brought out by the chilling scene
playing out further down the valley. He seemed full of arcane
power, overflowing with energy and rage.

‘
I don’t know,’ Sarai replied. ‘I couldn’t hear the
words, but
… they shook hands at the end of it.’

‘
Wait,’ said Rowan. ‘I
don
’t
understand. Who are the
Caballeros
? What does the word mean?’

‘
Don’t you recognise the word?’
Caeles
asked. ‘Spanish isn’t much different to Portuguese.
Caballeros
means “horsemen”.
They’re knights.’

‘Demons,’
Gabel put in.

‘
That’s just superstition. But they’re close. I
knew a man once who
ran into one of them on the east coast, far past
Ponta Pora, by the sea. The knight arrived by row boat, alone, when
most travelled to the northern continent and passed down by land,
via Panama. The knight got out of his boat too far away from the
shore, and with his armour sank right to the bottom. My friend
thought he must have drowned. Then he saw a shape beneath the
surface, and the helmet bobbed out, then his shoulders, then his
chest-plate. He just walked right out of the water and onto the
shingle, like a ghoul. He attacked my friend immediately and the
guy barely survived.’

‘You’re
scaring her,’ Gabel warned.

‘
By Irenia, I’m not a child, Joseph!’ Rowan barked.
She felt ill
immediately afterwards, sick to her stomach with fear and
anger at the hunter’s patronising remarks. But she was afraid; the
thought of someone, some
thing
encased and hidden in such armour, something
unstoppable and violent, made her heart skip in her
chest.

‘
If the
Caballeros
and the Luxers have formed an alliance,
then we may encounter difficulties,’ the magus said.

Rowan thought
that it must have been the only occasion she could remember when
the magus had said something unnecessarily.

Caeles laughed
cruelly.

‘
Oh, this is wonderful,’ he said, already taking his horse down
the hill. ‘Just wonderful.’

Sarai was
looking out over at the burning town. ‘No. No, it’s not wonderful
in the slightest.’

~

That night, as
they camped apart from each other, shivering without a fire, Rowan
rose and sat beside Sarai. ‘Will you tell me something?’ she asked
quietly.

‘
Depends,’ the Scathac replied.

‘
On what?’

‘
If I want to answer.’

‘
How do you know this Cleric has your son Isaac? If you were
separated, you wouldn’t know.’

Sarai sighed deeply, and pulled up the blanket that had been
given her to sleep under. It was of a loose weave, highly
inadequate, and she played her gloved hands through the threads.
‘Me and Isaac heard that a man named Tan Cleric has gathered a
small group of people to help him in some task that might affect us
all. Somehow it’s part of his quest for those who are “different”,
what your friend Caeles call “errants”. After hearing what your
mysterious old magus said, I also now believe that it’s connected
to this weapon he mentioned.’

‘
The Hahnium,’ Rowan remembered. She absorbed such information
when she had the chance. Being so cut off during her time in Niu
Correntia had seeded an insatiable appetite for knowledge within
her, which faded only on the days when her illness overcame
her.

Sarai nodded.
‘That’s right.’

‘
Then why did you not tell the others?’

‘
Because I didn’t think it was important.’

‘
But how do you know any of this?’

‘
I
know this, and that my son Isaac is captured by Cleric, because I
have someone inside that group of his.’

‘
What
?’ Rowan rasped. ‘But you must tell Joseph! Why haven’t you
done so?’

‘
Because
I
overheard those men talking about Cleric, and there are ears
about other than mine! This person is the only one who can save my
dear Isaac, and if their cover is blown, then that person and my
son will die.’

*

Nineteen

ERRANTS

The stench of his clothes was getting unbearable, and he had
to tilt his head upward to try and catch the scents of the
rainforest instead; the bright flowers, the sap from the trees, and
the smell of freshly fallen rain.

His name was Johnmal, and he had travelled a long way from
the town of San Bueto. There he’d met Henrique, the courier, who’d
given him the parchment he now carried. It hung unopened, on a
string tied to his belt. Henrique had said it was something for
which the boss had been waiting a long while, information on an old
enemy newly arisen, all the way from the Hall of the Regent of São
Jantuo. Johnmal kept the parchment safe by his side, hanging just
underneath the flap of his short-sleeved jacket.

His trip had been longer than he expected by a few days, and
now his food had run out. Hunger burning inside him, he earlier
risked eating a few of the wild fruits that grew in the rainforest,
plucking them tenderly and tasting them with caution. He developed
nothing worse than a minor bout of cramps, which had disappeared
overnight. He’d had difficulties swallowing his berries then, and
now, as he neared the end of his journey, he decided against eating
anything more until he returned. The forests there were
unpredictable, and often things weren’t as they seemed.

The facility was just in sight, the off-white walls of the
single story building visible through the vines and other plant
life. The rainforest had reclaimed it during the boss’ long
absence, and now all that could be seen was the odd patch of wall,
one or two of the broken plastiplex windows, and the door, through
a hellish tunnel of vines and branches.

The first
sensor was by the door, and opened into the first room. This was
just the outer shell of the facility. Only two palm-prints were
recognised by the sensor: Johnmal’s and the boss’. Freshly recycled
air hit him in the face. He stood a while in this tiny room,
cooling himself before entering the seven-digit pin-code that let
him through the second door. It hissed open, and he faced the only
guard.

‘
Hello, Rosanna.’

‘
Johnmal!’ The girl, only eighteen, jumped and wrapped her arms
around him. ‘Jesus, Johnmal, you
stink
.’

‘
Do you mind not blaspheming?’

The
girl made a face of mock disappointment, and despite the
faux-expression, her face was the same round delight it had always
been, with naturally pursed lips and large, brown eyes. Just four
inches under Johnmal, who stood at an impressive six-three, Rosanna
was athletic, toned, and possessed surprising strength. She carried
her scy-staff, a double-ended scythe that glinted dully in the
sparse light.

‘
Oh
Johnmal
,
you really shouldn’t take religion seriously. It’s all
rubbish.’

‘
Nonsense. Religion gives faith, and faith gives courage. You
should remember that if you want to became a true
soldier.’

‘
A true soldier!’ Rosanna laughed, putting her hands on her
waist. ‘The boss trusts me to guard
this
place, doesn’t he?’

‘
Guards,’ Johnmal said, leaning close, ‘are not true
soldiers.’

As he turned
to walk past, the blade of the scy-staff hissed past his ear and
embedded itself between the door and its frame, two inches deep.
Rosanna had to stand on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.

‘
Be polite,
Johnmal
.’

‘
I’m sorry,’ he said, voice failing to conceal this lie. ‘Won’t
happen again.