The Adamantine Palace (42 page)

Frogsback. He's paralysed me.

He kicked with his feet. He could do that at least. Hopelessly uncoordinated, but he could move them. After a few minutes he'd managed to push himself a few inches. Exhausted, he gave up. If anything, the numbness was getting worse, and the more he struggled, the more fumes he breathed.

Shezira. Time and space became a blur. He wasn't sure where he was any more. At some point he thought he felt strong arms take hold of him. They must have taken the sack off too, because he could see stars again. And faces.

Shezira. She was the only one left he could trust. The only one who could make it all go away. Even after everything they'd done to each other, after everything he'd done to her, she'd do the right thing. She'd have the strength that he lacked.

He tried to struggle, but the thoughts never got further than his mind, while the rest of his body slumbered in peaceful stupor.

'Shezira ...'

64

Smoke and Poison

Kemir turned and ran, sprinting towards the caves and the dragons. 'Don't!' he screamed. 'Stop! Don't eat the bodies!'

He was too late. Of course he was too late. Rider Rod wouldn't have told him if there was any danger he might stop it. All of the dragons had bloody muzzles. There were still a few corpses littered around the river, but there had clearly been a lot more. He clenched his fists in furious frustration. No armour, no sword, I should have carved him up.

And that was the point. That was why Rider Rod had told him. Because I had him. Because for a moment there, with no sword in his hand, he was mine for the taking. Because this time I could have carved him up. And now I'm too late and I let him go. Shit! The realisation made him clench his fists again and scream.

'They're poisoned,' he shouted when Snow and Ash both stopped and peered down at him. The other three dragons didn't understand. They still did what they were told, whether it was by a rider on their back or another dragon in their head.

Snow spat out half a knight. How are they poisoned?

'I don't know.' Kemir pointed back down the river. 'There was a rider. He got past you in the river. He told me.'

Ash lifted his head and snorted fire at the heavens. Perhaps he lied.

'Perhaps he did!' Kemir shrugged. 'Wait and find out if you like. Or go and find him and ask him. Last time I saw him he was a few hundred yards that way, behind those rocks and heading for the forest. He can't have got far.' He murdered Sollos.

The dragons didn't say anything else. Ash stamped a clawed foot, shaking the earth, then the whole valley trembled as he and Snow pounded away towards the trees. The other three dragons went back to the cave-mouth fires. Kemir cast a nervous glance at the cliffs towering over them, wondering if they were about to come crashing down. As soon as he convinced himself that they weren't, he ran after Snow. That's what they should have done. Not fire but stone. Shake the whole mountainside down and bury the place. Could they have done that?

He reached the place where he'd found Semian and picked up his bow. He left it strung, just in case. Ash and Snow were at the edge of the trees and launching themselves into the air.

He is in there. Not far. I can feel his thoughts. He is cold, very cold, that is all I can sense.

Where? -

Distant. Exactly where I cannot be sure.

Then burn it. Burn it all.

Burn it all.

'The river,' shouted Kemir. Semian's shield was gone. 'He'll be in the river.' Except the river was so shrouded by trees that the dragons probably couldn't even see it from above. Kemir stood at the edge of the wood and watched. A part of him wanted to give chase himself. Let Sollos rest in peace at last.

'You want him alive, remember!' he shouted as the first lance of fire stabbed down into the trees. Semian would have his sword again and Kemir might not even see the knight until they stumbled into each other. And did he really want to hunt down a desperate rider while two dragons were raining fire down from above? No, probably not.

He took a deep breath. If Rider Rod had been telling the truth about the poison, and if all the dragons had eaten it, and if they all died, then what? Stuck in a valley full of angry soldiers and alchemists hadn't seemed too bad with two murderous dragons on his side. Stuck there without them he'd be the hunted one.

'Bugger.' He growled. 'Another day, Rider Rod. One day, if the dragons don't get you, I'll still be waiting for you in those shadows.' He sat down to watch as Snow and Ash burned the forest. They'd give up soon enough. That was the trouble with the pair of them. No patience. Were all dragons like that?

Ash suddenly lurched in the air. He turned sharply, flew almost straight towards Kemir and landed heavily next to the river. Before he'd even come to a halt, he had rolled over into the water. Hot! Too hot! I am burning inside! Ash pressed his head into the ice-cold water, took a long swallow and then splashed more water over his back. A second later he was gently steaming.

Kemir backed away.

'It's the poison, you stupid greedy dragon. That's how dragons die. They burn from the inside.' He wrung his hands in frustration and looked around for Nadira. It was hardly a surprise that Ash was the first, since he'd probably eaten more than the rest of the dragons put together. But he hadn't thought it would happen so quickly. How long had it been? Ten minutes? The alchemists in the caves, though, they'd know exactly how long the poison would take. Exactly when to come rushing out to finish off anyone stupid enough to remain.

He jumped up onto a rock and glanced around the valley. 'Nadira!' he shouted. He couldn't see her. 'Snow!'

Ash. Here, I will cool you. Snow landed to squat beside Ash, pouring river water over him. Over by the cave mouths the other three dragons didn't seem troubled. Yet.

'Snow! Did you eat the bodies of the dead?'

Yes.

'How many?'

I did not count mouthfuls, Kemir. Does it matter? Their poison is in me.

'Not as many as Ash, though.'

Far, far fewer.

'Then perhaps not enough to do to you whatever it's done to him.' Kemir looked around the valley for Nadira again. This time he saw her, not far away, sitting with her back to a tree, brushing her hair. He wondered, for an instant, where she'd found the brush. 'Nadira!'

Ash! You must stay awake! Kemir could feel frustration in Snow's thoughts, and a deep sadness with it. Strangely little anger, though. Kemir, I begin to feel it too. I must destroy the alchemists quickly now, while I still have the strength.

'No! You should fly away, while you still can.' He waved Nadira towards him. By the caves, one of the dragons had gone to lie down in the water as well.

I cannot leave Ash. He is sinking into torpor. It is our way of stopping the heat inside when it grows too strong. If they find him alone like this, they will feed him their potions again and he will be lost.

'Or they might get both of you. Or you might die from the poison. You don't know what it does. You don't know anything. We have to go.'

I understand your fear, Little One, but I will not leave. There is too much undone.

'Then stay here and die! Or be enslaved again. For myself, I wish for neither.' Kemir got up. He trotted to Nadira and took her hand. 'Come on! We need to go. And quickly.'

The poison is in me, Kemir, and it will do what it will do. If I am to die, I will die in battle against my enemies. I am a dragon, and that is my nature.

'In battle?' Kemir threw up his head to the heavens. 'They're not going to come out and fight you, you stupid creature. They're going to wait and watch as you fail. They'll hide in their caves and come out when you're too weak to lift yourself off the ground. Is that battle?' He was shouting now, filled with a bitter sense of loss that he didn't understand. 'Fly up into the mountains! Find a lake by a glacier and immerse yourself in it! If that doesn't keep you cold, nothing will. If you want to fight, fight the poison.'

No, Kemir. I will stay with Ash.

Kemir stamped his foot. 'If the poison doesn't kill you, you can come back and try again! You can free Ash, free them all. If you die, you're dead, and everything you want dies with you.'

Snow stared at him. For a second he thought she was going to eat him. He could feel the thoughts in her head, the rivers of anger and desire, the knotting indecision. Then, slowly, she nodded.

It is not our nature to flee, Little One Kemir, and I do not understand why you would betray your own kind. But yes, then. Let us leave. She lowered her head and shoulders to the ground. Kemir scrambled onto her back and hauled Nadira after him.

65

The Night of the Knives

Almiri tiptoed across the floor. She was shaking, still sweating from running up the stairs. And from what had gone on before. She held a single candle, and the flame flickered restlessly, casting dancing shadows across the walls. Her hands were trembling. She approached her mother's bed and felt like a young girl again, a child looking for a comfort she rarely received.

Shezira tossed and turned. Almiri knew those dreams. She'd had her own dreams, of being at home in the far-off north. Of someone tapping on her window, of the tapping growing louder, and then the rooms shaking and swaying. Of pictures falling off the walls, candles tipping over, ceilings cracking, beams breaking. Of castles falling and of the earth splitting open.

She knelt by the bed and gave her mother a gentle nudge. 'Your Holiness ...'

Shezira twisted violently away. Someone in her bedchamber. In the middle of the night. Ill deeds ...

Almiri tried again. 'Mother!' This time Shezira heard her. She sat up, wild-eyed.

'Almiri?'

'Yes. Mother, you have to wake up.'

Shouts outside. Swords clashing. Men screaming. Hiding...

Shezira rubbed her eyes and squinted at her daughter, shielding her eyes from the candlelight. 'Almiri,' she said again. 'What are you doing here?'

'Mother, someone has tried to kill the speaker.'

'Hyram's dead?'

'No, mother.' Almiri tried to keep her voice steady, but she couldn't hide the tension. 'Queen Zafir. Someone has tried to kill Queen Zafir.'

Lying on the floor in the dark, trying not to breathe. Armoured feet in front of her eyes. Vicious words and bared, bloody swords...

'I don't suppose they succeeded?'

'No, mother. She was wounded but not killed.'

Shezira chuckled. 'Pity.'

'Mother! This is not a joke.' Almiri's voice sounded shrill to herself. She wanted to scream.

'Who did it?'

'They say it was a rider disguised as a messenger boy. They say it was your knight-marshal.' She could see the coldness blossom inside her mother and sweep across her face. How long has it been since you were afraid, mother?

Her own husband, a king, dragged from his bed and thrown to the floor with a sword to his neck.

'Nastria?'

'Yes, mother.'

'No!' Shezira threw off her blankets and got up. 'No, Nastria would never do such a thing. Not without my order.'

'Yes, mother. They say that too.'

'Servants!' Shezira peered at her. 'I ordered no such thing. You look frightened, daughter. Why?'

'Because ...'

The sword is lifted up ...

Because I am. Because I'm terrified. Petrified. Paralysed. But she could never say that. Not to her mother. Shezira couldn't begin to understand. She wouldn't even try.

'Because the Adamantine Guard have seized our tower, mother. Valgar's riders are either dead or taken. They dragged my husband out of his bed.' ... but never comes down. The feet march away and take him with them and she is alone in the dark, still silent and unbreathing. 'When he fought, they beat him like a common criminal. I hid under the bed. I heard them talking. They didn't see me in the dark.'

Servants were coming in now, sluggishly, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Shezira scowled at them. 'Dress me,' she snapped. 'Awake my riders. Awake everyone. Daughter, you're not making much sense. Why would Hyram's guards do such a thing?'

Almiri sat on the bed and held her head in her hands. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep it all clenched up inside her for much longer. 'They're Zafir's Guard now, mother. Your knight-marshal tried to kill her. They saw her. She fled, and they saw her come to our tower. But she's not there, mother. When they don't find her, they'll come here.'

'I'm quite sure you're right, especially if they saw you come here too.'

'What was I supposed to do, mother? It was dark. I wasn't asleep. I saw them take Valgar and so I ran. They killed our riders!'

Shezira held out her arms to be dressed. 'Yes, so you said.'

'Where is Lady Nastria, mother ?'

'Missing.'

What's that, mother? A touch of fear? It is, isn't it? So you do remember what it feels like from all those years ago.

'Missing,' Shezira said again. She frowned.

'Would she--'

'No, daughter, she would not. She would never be so mindlessly stupid.'

Someone ran into the room and grovelled at Shezira's feet.

'Your Holiness--'

'What?'

'The speaker's soldiers are hammering on the door, Your Holiness. They demand--'

Shezira waved him away. 'Tell them that I am dressing and that when I am ready they may enter. Tell them that the person they're looking for is not here, but I shall be happy to allow them to see that for themselves. Tell them that my riders shall not be the first to bare their swords. And remind them that I have a good few more than King Valgar did.'

Another servant approached. 'Your armour, Holiness?'

'Are we at war? Don't be foolish.' She waved that one away too.

'Mother--'

'Enough, Almiri. The Guard may take their orders from Queen Zafir today, but for the last ten years they've answered to Hyram, and old habits are not so easily forgotten. Does he think I plan to go to war with them? That would be absurd. I will speak to Hyram in person, and if he intends to imprison everyone who disagrees with his foolishness then he can do it himself. No, daughter, something else is afoot here. Hyram will release King Valgar and Zafir will pay compensation to the families of his dead riders. I will see to it.' Finally she was dressed. She shooed all her servants away and marched out and down into the body of the Tower of Dusk. She swept down the stairs into the great hall with Almiri on her heels. A dozen riders were already there, some of them armoured, some of them still in their nightclothes, but all armed. Most of them were pressed against the doors to the outside. A heavy bar was braced across both doors, and the riders were shouting at the soldiers outside, such a cacophony of cursing that Almiri couldn't make out a single word. When the queen reached the bottom of the stairs, she snatched a spear and banged it on the floor. 'Open the doors,' she shouted. 'Let them in.'