“The Book of Thala,” his father said.
The prince smiled. “Truly? Or is this one of your japes, Father?” He looked at the others. “He is fond of japing. Not so much these days, perhaps, but…”
“No jape, Devrin. Elyon has the Eye of Rasalan in his safekeeping. He plans to bring it here. To help to win the war, I presume?” he asked Elyon.
The Prince of Vandar nodded. “Any glimpse of the future may help us, my lord. However blurred or trivial.”
Devrin had a sip of his mulled wine. “Well in that case we should go north at once, Father,” he declared breezily. “Perhaps not at once at once, no it’s getting a tad late for that. But tomorrow. We should leave tomorrow morning, so we make it in time.”
Amilia didn’t know what might be to the north, though Sevrin seemed to understand. “That is a long journey, son. Four hundred miles as the crow flies, and in this snow…” He shook his head. “The way would be slow and the seas are too iced over to take a ship. And besides, I cannot leave the city. I am king now, officially. I must stay to tend my flock.”
Devrin disagreed. “If the Eye is to open for you, Father, it will be there. We must go to where Great Rasalan’s presence is strongest. To where he first presented his Eye to Thala.”
Something triggered in the memory of Amilia Lukar. She recalled a conversation with Sir Munroe Moore as they journeyed across the Highplains, following the siege of the city. He had spoken of the Grey Keep and the many watchtowers that stood sentry along the northern coast, high on the cliffs. They were there to keep a lookout for threats and invaders, but there was one tower that held a different history and purpose.
“The Tower of Rasalan,” she murmured, remembering. Sir Munroe had said that kings and queens went there at times of need, retreating from the pressures of their rule to sit for long days, even weeks, with the Eye, to better understand and unravel its mysteries. Many of Thala’s prophecies had been foreseen there, she knew.
Prince Devrin was looking at her, smiling broadly now. “Yes,” he said. “Exactly so, my lady. We should go to the Tower of Rasalan, Father. It’s remote. And safe. If the enemy should find out of us…”
“Safe,” Elyon said. That was always of utmost importance to him. “How safe is this tower?”
“Very. Thala herself enshrouded it in seals and deceptions to hide it from the sight of her enemies. And yes, Father, four hundred miles is a long way, but not if we use the thoroughbreds. They can go for days without tiring and know the lay of every rock and stone, even under the snow.” He paused, taking a breath. “Father, we must go. You have been saying we have to do more to help, for months you’ve been saying that. This is our chance to do something in this war. I can muster a company to leave by morning.”
The old king had a smile on his face, part defeat and part pride and part doubt. But it seemed the impassioned plea of his son had won him over. He looked at Elyon, raised his cup, and Elyon did the same. “A toast to providence,” he said. “We can make our plans over dinner.”
36
She could feel Cevi drifting asleep behind her in the saddle.
“Cevi. Stay alert. You still have a job to do.”
The girl’s voice was sleepy. “Yes, my lady.” She gave out a yawn, stretching her arms, as they glided slowly above the fleet, Neyruu filling her wings with air to try to match their speed. That wasn’t possible, of course - the barges were painfully slow - but she was trying her best. When she got too far ahead she would circle slowly around. And again and again and again, Talasha thought. Endlessly. For days. Cevi yawned again, trying to shake herself awake. “I’m meant to be looking left, right, my lady?”
“Right,” Talasha said.
“Oh. I thought I was looking left?”
“Yes, you are, Cevi. I meant right, as in ‘yes’.”
“Right,” Cevi said. “So I’m looking left, then?”
“Right,” said Talasha, and they both began laughing.
They needed that, sometimes, because by the fires of Agarath, this was dreary work. For three days they had been circling above the barges, watching for shadows in the water, searching for creeping threats. There were a hundred predatory creatures that might be lurking in this lake, Sunrider Tantario had told them, and they had to keep watch for them all. So far they’d seen seals, the occasional lake shark or freshwater whale, something that looked ominously like a kraken, with its long tentacles and bulbous body, and about a hundred million birds, all bobbing on the water and nesting on the many little islands that peppered the lake like freckles on a gigantic face.
There were many species of bird, Talasha had seen, terns and ducks, geese and kingfishers, herons and cormorants and gulls, all screaming and squabbling for space. Talasha knew birds well, from her days hunting the Askar Delta, though many of these were different, not least the eagles. Of those there were many, perching in the tall trees that grew upon the islands, cruising on their hunts, even circling above the barges sometimes too. They seemed to have the rule of the lake, Talasha had noticed. And no wonder. It was called Eagle Lake, after all.
But as yet, the barges had gone undisturbed, and no creature had paid them much notice, save for a pod of porpoises that had swum alongside them for a while, leaping and jumping out of the water. A big whale had come close as well, though it seemed a passive beast, and had only been curious, before descending back into the grey-blue murk almost as quickly as it had appeared. The kraken, too, had proven no danger, because it wasn’t a kraken at all. The big bulbous body had turned out to be nothing but a large knot of kelp, and the tentacles its fronds, waving in the currents. Thankfully, Talasha had realised that before raising the alarm. She was misliked enough as it was without giving half the men heart attacks.
It just takes one time, though, the princess reminded herself. At any moment some vengeful fiend could come surging up from the deep, and she needed to be on hand to spot it, call the danger, and help fight it off. She twisted her neck back. “Are you keeping watch, Cevi?” The girl’s breathing had started to take on that slow heavy rhythm of a sleeper. “Next time you fall asleep, I’m going to have Neyruu do a barrel roll. We’ll see if you’ll still be sleeping when you’re crashing into the lake.”
“Sleeping?” Cevi yawned again. “I would die, my lady.”
“The long sleep, then.”
They were two hundred metres above the boats, so yes, Talasha supposed a fall from this height would be fatal. Occasionally they flew higher, to get a broader perspective, and sometimes they would fly lower, to share a word with Saska Varin or Sunrider Tantario or the King’s Wall, Sir Ralston Whaleheart, but mostly they remained at this height where they could get a good view of the waters around the barges, and quickly swoop down if required.
Her eyes swung to the right, searching for shadows. There was an island a little way off, teeming with birds, and some seals lazing on a rock, but of perils she saw none. “Anything on that side, Cevi?”
The delay was telling. “I…no, nothing, my lady…”
“You were dozing again.”
“No. I just…I didn’t hear you.” Her voice was thick with sleep. “There’s nothing on the left. No shadows under the…the water.”
Talasha looked to make sure. This whole left, right business was merely to keep Cevi engaged, and most of the time, Talasha would look in every direction possible, to north and south and east and west, straight down and straight up as well. The girl was right, though; nothing brewing on the left of the barges, which were floating along in that glacial way toward the northern shores.
“How long do you think it will take for them to land?” Cevi asked. She rubbed her eyes. “We’re getting close.”
“Another hour or so, I would say.” The barges were the slowest vessels Talasha had ever laid her eyes on, and the currents here did not help. They seemed to be moving against them, the winds as well, and the wide, flat boats were not blessed with many sails. They had a pair each, and not the biggest, and a few holes for oars, but not enough. With the weight of the horses and camels and all those sellswords with their godsteel, it was taking an utter age to cross. The war will be over by the time we get there, she thought.
They had gone too far past them, so circled back around, moving with the winds this time. It was quicker like that, and Neyruu struggled to fly slowly. The poor dragon had grown desperately frustrated these last days, never able to swoop and dive and plunge as she liked to, never zipping along at speed. Only at night did Talasha let her stretch her wings, once the barges had pulled up against some island so the men could sleep. She would permit Neyruu a quick dash about the lake, though only a short one, before they found an island of their own nearby, much to the displeasure of the resident birds, who weren’t much for sharing.
But sleep would not come easy. Not to Talasha, or to Cevi, or to Neyruu. The birds would often squark and complain, there would be seals barking and grunting and splashing nearby, and the winds were prone to howling. Sometimes it rained as well, a hard hot rain, as if the very clouds were boiling. It was the weather of the new world, the world since Eldur awoke, and would only grow more extreme, Sunrider Tantario had said.
They circled back around again until they were right above the fleet, looking north. There were three barges, so calling it a fleet was somewhat of a stretch, and the men had been dispersed accordingly. At the head was its flagship, such as it was, containing most of the company’s leaders. Saska Varin was there, with Sir Ralston, who would never be parted from her, and Sunrider Tantario as well. The girl Leshie travelled with them, and the boy Del, and Del’s bowmaster, Kaa Sokari. He was training the young Tukoran in the archery arts, even as they sailed the lake, using the birds for targets. So far as Talasha could tell, the boy was a reasonable bowman. Sokari never had him firing at the birds bobbing on the water; no, only those in flight, and she had seen him take down at least four or five of them that way.
