Dawn of the Dreamsmith (The Raven's Tale Book 1) (82 page)

“We found a city underground,” he replied. “Below the mountains we call the Dragon’s Back. There was a room full of great furnaces, and above it a place that looked like a hive forged of steel.”

The creature appeared crestfallen. “Ah... I know the place. There are none left there now. I thought perhaps you had found others... it was a foolish hope.” It reached out a gnarled claw as the butterfly flitted past. The tiny device landed upon it.

“You built all these things, didn’t you?” Raven pointed at the rows of metal humanoids they had uncovered. “You created the monster that attacked us, that killed all those people.”

“You have met one of the Children?” The creature hung its head, ashamed. “What you say is true, it was by my skill that they were built, given life. However, I was but the hammer, wielded by the hand of another.”

Caspian looked then at the creature’s body. He saw the network of scratches and scars. Some were old, faded. Others were fresh and raw. There were burn marks on its legs and several of its arms, while he noticed that two fingers of one hand were missing. “You’re a prisoner here,” he said.

The creature nodded. “I was captured a long time ago, by one who resides above. He came to one of our cities, with a number of his thralls. He found me.”

“What happened to you?” Cole asked. “Your people, I mean.”

With tender care, the creature blew softly upon the butterfly’s wings and sent it fluttering back into the air of the workshop. “The same that has happened to all the peoples of our land, or will, in time. An insidious poison.”

“The crystals,” Raven said flatly.

“Yes.” There was a great sadness in its voice. “A poison that seems at first a wonderful cure. Later, we discovered that it affects each race that becomes exposed to it differently.” It sighed. “In our case, it was at one time our greatest strength, before it became the death of my people.”

“What happened?”

“For years beyond count, my people had honed our skill with metals and alloys,” the creature replied. “Ours was a society of industry, of wonders beyond imagining. Then we discovered the crystals, and it was as though all our works up until then were as primitive as the first daubs of children learning to draw. Our technomancers found a way to infuse our metals with the crystals, and that by doing so, in conjunction with the appropriate runes and other secrets of the forge, we could give life to our creations.”

Caspian stared again at the rows of metallic assassins. “They are alive?” He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or appalled.

“Not true life,” the creature assured him. “They can be given simple instructions and will act upon them. But they do not tire, or grow old. For a while, our society prospered, built upon the backs of uncomplaining workers and servants stronger than any of our kind. It freed us to devote ourselves to higher pursuits.” It looked at the floor. “It was unfortunate that none ever thought to investigate the other effects of this miracle substance.”

“What do you mean?” asked Cole.

“It was a viper in our midst,” the creature continued. “It meant a death so slow that we barely noticed it happening. We became indolent, sluggish. Where once we laboured, now we rested. When our deaths came we merely passed from one sleep to another. All the while, the Children looked after us, as they always had. It took a century, perhaps more. I had been a young apprentice, still learning my craft, when we first began to feel the effects. By the time I was alone I was old and tired. I was ready to meet my fate, to follow my kin, my friends and colleagues, into the great beyond, when the green-eyed man found me.”

“He tortured you,” said Caspian. “What did he want of you?”

“An army,” said the creature, simply. “He looked upon all that we had created and saw not art but the means of conquest. For years, I refused. What parent could force such a fate upon their Children? To my eternal shame, eventually I relented. But the results of my work did not please him. The Children are strong, but cannot long withstand physical punishment; they act, but cannot think for themselves, or adapt to the ebb and flow of battle. For a time, I thought that perhaps he would put an end to my suffering. But one day he came and asked for a creation capable of stalking a single target. An assassin that could strike from the shadows. This time, the fruits of my labour pleased him.”

Raven had remained silent throughout much of the creature’s tale. “You said that the crystals affect races differently,” she said, once he had finished. “What effect do they have on humans?”

The creature’s head swivelled to face her. “From what I have observed, the crystals seem to pervert whatever they touch. In our case, they turned our industry into sloth. Though my experience of your kind is limited, I’m afraid to say the humans I’ve encountered have been violent, aggressive, arrogant.” Caspian tried to avoid making eye contact with the thieves. “It seems the crystals strip away these negative qualities, bringing peace and tranquillity in their place.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” said Cole cheerfully. “Perhaps we should just go back and let the Archon get on with whatever he’s got planned.”

The creature did not smile. A pair of sad eyes fastened onto him. “Is a prisoner who cannot see the bars on his windows, the lock upon his door, not still a prisoner? The crystals rob your kind of their will to fight, to stand against those that would take their freedom. Ours was the death of our bodies, your kind will see the death of your minds, your spirits. But I fear that is not the worst.”

“How did I know there was going to be more?” asked Raven.

“The energies the crystals drain do not simply dissipate,” the creature intoned. “They are collected, channelled. When this tower neared completion, the green-eyed man bade me work on a device for him, a chamber of metal and crystal combined. Its purpose is to gather all the negative essence that has been siphoned from your kind, and I believe its time is drawing near.”

Caspian thought about the dark storm clouds gathering above the tower, and the columns of green fire they had all seen in the night sky. “What does he mean to do?”

The creature shook its head sadly. “I was never told of his intentions. Whatever it is, it requires great power.”

Raven frowned. “If what he says is true, then we’re running out of time,” she said. “We’ve tarried here long enough. It’s time to go and confront the Archon.”

The thieves nodded, and the rest of his companions began to troop from the workshop. Caspian watched them sadly. “I’m not coming,” he said in a quiet voice.

Cole turned back. “What?”

Caspian turned to the creature. “What should we call you?”

It considered the question. “The being I once was is gone. But you can call me Builder. It will suffice.”

Caspian turned back to his friend. “We can’t leave Builder here. If we succeed then the guards will no doubt kill him in the confusion. If we fail, he’ll still be the Archon’s prisoner.” His jaw jutted defiantly. “I’m going to take him away, to the docks where the captain awaits us.”

Cole appeared disappointed. “Are you sure? How will you get there?”

“We’ll manage, somehow. Hopefully you will not be too long behind us.”

“Cas, we need you.”

Caspian smiled sadly. “You don’t. I’m no fighter, and you know more about what’s happening than I do. I didn’t mean to end up here. Ever since the captain found me at the Crag, I’ve been swept along by the tide. But this...” He glanced at the tall creature beside him. “I feel that this is why I’m here.”

In the end, the thief, Mats, dispatched one of his men to accompany them to the wharf where Begrum’s ship was moored. After shaking hands a final time, Caspian watched his friend resume his climb up the tower towards his fate, knowing in his heart he had made the right decision.

CHAPTER 33

A
s they climbed the final winding steps leading to the tower’s summit, the sound of voices raised in chant reached their ears. Shortly after Caspian had departed with the enigmatic Builder in tow, the stair veered away from the spine of the colossal structure, and they appeared to now be following its outer wall. Cole heard a mighty crack as lightning struck the stone outside, and even within the air felt charged.

Eventually, their path carried them to a heavy door carved from dark wood and bounded with iron. Cole could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he reached a hand out towards it. After all this time, after all the leagues he had travelled and all the dangers he had faced, beyond this door he would finally confront the man whose actions put him on this path.

Merryl. Harri. Faerloren and the Baron. Everything has led me to this moment.
Cole glanced behind to see Raven standing on the step below. Their eyes met, and he saw glacial determination there. She had been there by his side for most of it as well. Perhaps she would never trust him, not fully, but he felt that they had still forged a close bond on their journey.
But where has it brought us?
he wondered. Seeing him hesitate, Raven nodded encouragement. Cole steeled himself, and pushed the door open.

“Well, at least we know why we didn’t run into anybody further down,” he observed, surveying the scene that greeted them.

The top of the tower was a single, enormous hall, the floor of which was filled by hundreds of brown-robed Brothers. Dozens of cowled faces turned in their direction as they entered, their expressions blank.
Thralls.
Cole recalled the word Builder had used. He thought back to the curiously emotionless men who had tried to capture him that night at the Crag. The word was apt.
But why?
he thought.
The Brothers who raised me were not affected so.

Above the heads of the throng rose a giant apparatus unlike any he had seen before, though if Caspian was there he might have recognised some of it. At its top was a great, hollow sphere, made up of different circular bands fitted within one another. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the bands were spinning at different angles. Beneath this sphere was a chamber, from which emanated a now-familiar green glow. Behind this edifice stood a gigantic green crystal, far larger than any he had seen before now; larger, even, than the pillar that had sprung up in Strathearn. It reached clear from the floor all the way to the vaulted ceiling far above.

This crystal sat in the very centre of the floor. Surely it could not be the tip of the column they had all noted as they climbed? Yet, as impossible as that seemed, it appeared to be true. The crystal was shaped like the head of a spear, albeit a very large one, and above the pointed tip was an aperture set into the tower’s roof. Despite the oblique angle and distance, from where Cole stood the black storm clouds beyond this hole were clearly visible.

As they entered, the crowd parted before them. Standing just in front of the strange metallic chamber was a familiar figure, a faint smile playing upon his lips. Green eyes glittered in recognition as they caught sight of him. The Archon was flanked by two men, one young and the other far older, that he had not laid eyes on before.

“It is good to see you again, my boy.” The Archon’s voice carried easily across the hall. “I had started to worry that you would be too late to bear witness to our triumph. You may approach.”

Cole’s feet felt oddly light as he began to walk along the cleared path between the Brothers, towards the man he had crossed an Empire to confront. As the others began to follow behind him, however, the Archon grinned broadly and wagged a finger, as one would admonish a wayward child. “Not the curs.”

Before they could react, the Brothers nearest to them grabbed the thieves from behind, knives suddenly appearing in their hands. In the blink of an eye the blades were drawn across the throats of the struggling men. Mats was the last to fall, eyes bulging and mouth gaping like a landed fish. The deed done, the Brothers secreted their weapons once more and calmly rejoined their fellows. Not a single word had been uttered during the brief struggle.

After his initial shock passed, Cole’s anger flared. “Did you look in my Brothers’ eyes as you killed them?” he demanded, marching towards the smiling Archon. “Did you even deign to wield a weapon of your own, or did you get your lackeys to carry out your dirty work even then?”

Raven hurried along at his side, casting wary glances at the ranks of brown-robed men that surrounded them. Her hands rested on the hilts of her swords, caught between the instinct to arm herself and the desire to not provoke a similar response. They both stopped a dozen yards from the Archon. Standing this close to the metal sphere and the strange chamber below, Cole felt a faint
thrum
from the stone floor through the soles of his boots. But it was the small group standing before it that held his attention.

The Archon’s eyes seemed to dance with ill-concealed amusement when he spoke. “The mewlings of a cub groping to understand matters of which it has no conception. What?” he went on, grinning at the expression on Cole’s face that greeted his words. “Did you expect that all you had to do was would march up here, state your demands and all would be revealed to you? Tell me, boy, in these fantasies, was I cowering beneath the force of your righteous fury, racked with guilt for all I have done?” He laughed. “While I am grateful that you have delivered yourself directly into my hands, it would be wise to prepare yourself for disappointment. Hold them.”

At his order, rough hands shot out from behind and gripped them firmly. Cole struggled against his captors, the cords on his neck standing out as he strained to reach his tormentor. “Explain yourself, wretch!” he roared. “I command you!” As the words left his mouth, he felt a force push out from himself. It was a similar sensation to what he had felt inside Harri’s fever dream. A surge of energy that travelled the length of his body, from the soles of his feet, gathering strength like a tidal wave as it rose through his chest and exploded from the front of his mind. To his amazement, the Archon staggered as though he had been struck.

The smug grin vanished from his face. “It is true, then,” he said, after taking a moment to compose himself. There was no mistaking the menacing edge to his voice this time. “My old adversary.”

Cole frowned. “Adversary?” he echoed. “You must be mistaken. This is only the second time our paths have crossed.”

The Archon’s sly smile returned. “Oh, we have danced this dance of ours before, old friend. So, you wish to understand why those that you cared for had to be... removed? What then? Will that knowledge bring them back? Will it ease your guilt?”

Cole hesitated. “No, but... my guilt?”

“Of course. Is that not what has driven you all this way, what has weighed down upon your every step? The knowledge that if not for you, that if some other bawling urchin was dropped on their doorstep in your place, they would still live. That even now they would be cataloguing seaweed and believing their work has some relevance.” The Archon’s eyes bore into his own. “How would you feel if you knew that those who raised you cared nothing for you, that you were nothing more to them than another specimen to be experimented on? Would your thirst for vengeance be at all quenched if you knew that all that was done and said to you by those oh-so-friendly brethren was on my orders?”

For a moment, Cole made no reply. He felt his resolve waver for the first time. What the Archon said carried the ring of truth. Or much of it. But then, he remembered Merryl, the kindness he had always shown him. How he risked all to rescue him that night from the Archon’s clutches, even though it cost him his life. The memory rekindled the fire within him. “You’re wrong. Perhaps some were as you say, but not all. There were good men on the Crag, and you slaughtered them. Now I will know why.”

“The cub flexes its claws.” The Archon chuckled. “So be it. Which answer do you seek, that I butchered them because I could, or that it simply amused me to do so? Which pleases you more? Both are true, after a fashion. That’s the nature of power, true power. That’s what this is all about, Dreamwalker. That’s what this has always been about.”

Raven started at the mention of the name the Aevir had given Cole. “What do you want with him, monster?” she demanded. “You speak of power, yet for all your influence, all your followers, the truth is that you fear Cole. Don’t you?”

The Archon’s luminous green eyes flicked to meet hers. “One of the Kin?” he murmured under his breath. Then, more loudly: “I thought your kind died out in these lands. Alas, it seems my assassins were not as thorough as I wished. If you think to stop us, dark one, I’m afraid you too will be disappointed.” His eyes glittered. “But by all means, you are welcome to watch the proceedings.”

“I wonder if you will still feel the same with my blade buried in your chest,” she shot back, her cheeks flushed with rising anger.

“A feisty wench, this one,” mocked the younger man beside the Archon. There was a hungry, vulpine look in his eyes that made Cole’s skin crawl.

“Quiet, boy,” barked the older one. “You are here on sufferance. Try just for once in your life not to bring shame down upon our family.” At his sharp reprimand, the younger man withdrew, head bowed obsequiously.

Throughout this exchange, the Archon continued to study Raven. “I know you, do I not?” he mused. Then an oily smile spread across his face. “Wait... the smith’s girl? How could I forget that surly expression? Well,” he said, grinning, “isn’t this a touching reunion?”

“I’m glad you remember that day.” Raven’s voice dripped with venom. “Once Cole has put an end to your schemes, we will share words, you and I. And you,” she spat, transferring her gaze to the older man. “What do you have to gain from allowing this murderer to seize all the power of the realm?”

The subject of her ire shook his head sadly. “So much anger,” Emperor Maximilien replied, “yet you understand so little of what is about to take place here. The Order has taken nothing that was not offered, and has done nothing that it was not instructed to do. Everything that has happened, everything that is to happen, is for the greater good of all.”

The emperor,
Cole thought.
How did I not recognise him immediately?
While they had never met in person, the man’s likeness was on every minted coin in the land. “So it’s all you,” he said aloud. “While the Brothers gained followers and handed out their crystals, they were following your orders.” The emperor inclined his head. “You know what they do, too, don’t you?”

“The Archon has always been forthright with me,” the emperor agreed.

“Then why do you do this?”

A dark cloud passed over the emperor’s face. “To carry on as we were meant destruction,” he said. “Our land is rife with sin, lust and sloth... people who do as little, as badly as they can get away with. Our nobles feud and scheme and jostle for scraps of power. Idlers and fools the lot of them.” He began to spit the words as he warmed to his theme. “It takes a firm hand to maintain order, and even then it is a poor excuse for such. The moment I die the realm will split into a hundred baronies ruled by a hundred petty lords, sparking a hundred wars that would last for generations and devastate our land. A century from now our people would be speaking Xanshi or Tenebrian or whatever they call their heathen tongues.” Specks of foam had appeared at the corners of his mouth.
He is quite mad,
Cole thought. “I didn’t unite the realm after my wastrel father brought us to the brink of ruin to see it happen again!”

“So you seek to control people instead?” Raven snorted. “Force them to do what you think they should? It would be kinder to kill them.”

The emperor gaped. He seemed appalled by the suggestion. “They are not unhappy. On the contrary, those who bear the Order’s gems are the most content in the land. What is better, to live a full, happy life and contribute to society, or to scrub around in the muck, exhausted and starving, only to be disembowelled by the first invader to reach our shores?”

“Only one who rules could even ask such a question,” she snarled. “All the gold in the world is not worth the freedom of even one man, woman or child.” She laughed. “And when you die, what then? Do you intend to rule from beyond the grave?”

Cole expected an angry response from the emperor, but the old man standing before them merely smiled benevolently. “After tonight, I don’t believe that will be required. You see, when the Archon activates his device, all the power of his god will flow through me. I will become immortal, born again in His fire. In a thousand years’ time my rule will still stand strong. Under my control, the glory of our Empire will last until the end of time. Is that not true, Archon?”

“Most assuredly, Excellency,” the Archon replied, bowing. Honey dripped from his words. “Lord Maldonus has promised that you will receive all that you deserve... and more.”

The emperor smiled indulgently. “You have my thanks for all your assistance in this matter, my friend. When I am sitting upon my eternal throne, you will be amply rewarded.”

“Excellency, you are too kind.”