Half Discovered Wings (12 page)

‘
Remember this?’

Caeles holds up his hand, and the sword is in
his
palm. Caeles smiles
lopsidedly, hefting the familiar weight of the
wakizashi.

‘
Oi! Give it back!’ Cleric says, snatching for it but missing.
‘That was mine.’

‘
You surrendered it to me,’ says Caeles.

‘
Give it back! You didn’t deserve to have that! I thought it
was lost, but you took it from me, didn’t you? You should never
have taken it, not without me ever knowing!’

‘
Maybe I’ll tell you how,’ Caeles snapped. ‘Another time. The
day I kill you.’

Caeles walks backward toward the door through which he
entered, sheathing the wakizashi. ‘You should have stayed on this
starship. You should have stayed
dead
. Because if this dream is what
I think it is, it means you’re still around. It means that I can
finally have the pleasure of killing you.’

The doors hiss
open behind him, and he backs out. But before they close in front
of him, he sees Cleric look up.

‘
I can still hear the wings,’ the man says. ‘I know they’re
coming. But I’ll finish what the world started.’

~

Four days
after they’d stumbled upon the remnant of the old war, Gabel’s
party caught their first glimpse of the great lake Lual, stretching
for endless miles. It was much larger than Rowan had ever imagined
any expanse of water to be – she had never once seen an ocean – and
she had to sit down, feeling once again weak.

By the great lake hunkered the city of São Jantuo, whose
buildings had once been large and well-built, sky-scraping. But it
hadn’t survived the Conflict. In a way, Caeles knew, nothing had.
Not really; himself included. São Jantuo had been kept clean and
became a microcosm compared to the rest of the world, hidden away,
a backwater town where laws were taken seriously and enforced by a
squad of intensely-trained men and women. Caeles knew that the
Squad was led by a woman who was not only a warrior trained by
warriors, but also a lawman raised by a lawman; her father was the
captain of the Squad before her time, and had raised her as his
natural successor. Marisa de la Naja obeyed only two: her instincts
and the Regent.

Caeles looked over the landscape at the vast lake and
estimated the time it would take to cross it.

‘
Could take a week,’ said Gabel before Caeles could
speak.

‘
That may be.
’

‘
Do you
think that your enemy, this Regent Dysan, is still alive? Are you
ready to face him?’

‘
Yes, though I’d rather not go back on my agreement. I might
get a reputation for not keeping my word.’

The cyborg was becoming less and less concerned about his
word, however. He knew that there were more urgent worries, much
darker villains abroad. His “dreams” had told him that
much.

‘
If he dies during your encounter,
it
wouldn’t matter much, would it
?’ Gabel said.

He didn’t turn, his eyes on the sky, but said, ‘Are you
suggesting I kill him if I get any trouble?’

‘
Of course not,’ said the hunter. ‘But
are you ready
?’

The wind
whipped at them, both men exposed to it from their position on the
open rise, and Caeles’ hand touched the black hilt of his
wakizashi. The slowly setting sun, reflected from the great lake,
was cast onto his face, in his eyes. The ugly scar that ran down
the left side of his cheek was a deep mulberry in the light.

‘
Yeah, I think I’m ready.’

It took hours
to descend the hill, and gradually the glittering Lual was lost
behind the buildings of the city. The dirt path soon became a paved
road – Caeles told Rowan it was called “tarmac” – which was hard
and flat under their feet. The river turned sharply away, but they
had no need to follow it any further; the great gates of the city
were just visible in the darkness, at the end of the long black
road.

A man on horseback trotted past them, coming in from an
adjoining path. He gave a curt look, and then kicked his spurs.
With a quiet “
kheia
!
” whispered to his mount, the shape
vanished between the two open gates, which closed behind
him.

Clouds hung
overhead, threatening more snow.

The gates were twelve feet high and made of a thick wood that
Gabel couldn’t identify. They were rough and splintered, especially
around the huge brass hinges that fastened them to the concrete
pillars of the city walls. Gabel knocked twice, and they heard the
creak of strained bowstrings above them.

‘
State your business!’ called a man’s voice.

‘
We wish to cross the Lual in the morning, and find a place to
stay in the meantime.’ The magus had pushed in front of Gabel and
was calling up to the archers, who looked down their long arrows at
them.

A few private
words were spoken down a line to somewhere behind the gates. One
side opened and a largish man with fingerless gloves let them
through. He didn’t seem threatening.

‘
Come inside,’ he said amiably. ‘The inn is on your third
right.’

They thanked
him and found their way to the inn, one of the tallest buildings in
the city with its three storeys. After booking two rooms, Gabel and
Caeles stood by the door and talked quietly.

‘
Beware of the Squad that patrols the city during the night,’
said the hunter. ‘The captain is especially dangerous.’

‘
I understand. They were around last time I was here. Are you
coming with me?’

‘
Do you need me to hold your hand, cyborg?’ Gabel mocked in a
hushed voice.

‘
Fine, I can manage.’ He half-opened the door. ‘Just keep an
eye out for trouble.’

‘
Of course. We’ll wait for you in the rooms. Don’t worry. But
aren’t you going to eat something first? In fact, it may be better
to wait until morning.’

‘
I’ll check the boat timetable. If we can wait another day,
then I’ll delay until the morning to see the Mayor. If not … Well,
you’ll hear news either way.’

He smiled and
clapped the factotum on the back, then pulled his coat around his
neck and vanished down the dark, unfriendly street.

~

There were a few streetlights, but they were unevenly widely
spread, their decaying electrics poorly maintained. There were
proper roads here, and the buildings were made of stone instead of
wood or repurposed rubble. The whole place reminded Caeles of what
cities were like before the Conflict. He had an image of a mighty
steel-glass building that stood tall and proud, and God knows how
many storeys high.

But not here. These structures were shabby and in disrepair.
Some looked all right, but Caeles preferred the house he had been
living in the previous few years. Pirene was a much quieter town.
And safer.

He had no intention of waiting until morning to confront the
Regent. The man was old, yes, and frail, but he would want to know
immediately if his old enemy had walked through his gates. Caeles
was realising why the Magus had wrenched him out of his
seclusion.

The city hall was wide, dome-topped and built of large white
bricks. The doors were protected by two men with halberds; a few
metres ahead of them stood two more guards, holding spears. Another
man with impressive physique and admirable armour stood by a low
wall, checking the horizon to the south, where large tree-topped
hills rolled under the oppressive night sky. They looked remarkably
‘old world’ against such a modern backdrop, but working pistols and
other firearms were hard to come by, and people skilled enough to
look after such things even rarer.

He noticed a man walking toward him and waited for him to
arrive, pulling back his shoulders.

‘
What’s your business?’

‘
I came with the party that just entered through your gates,’
Caeles said. ‘I wish to see the Regent to inform him of our
arrival.’

‘
Is he expecting you?’

‘
No,’ Caeles said calmly. ‘He’s not.’

‘
Then wait until morning,’ was the guard’s response.

‘
He would want to know of my arrival in São Jantuo. Please send
word that I’m here. I don’t want to cause any trouble.’

It came out wrong but Caeles wasn’t a man to take back
anything he said. He hadn’t meant to make a threat – it was more an
apology – but if it worked…

The armoured man spoke quietly with one of the guards, who
went inside the hall, while the Chief watched, thick arms folded.
The guard returned half a minute later, whispered back to his
supervisor.

‘
You can enter,’ he rumbled to Caeles. ‘Have you any
weapons?’

Despite his
earlier worries, Caeles had left the sword with Gabel. ‘None.’

The man checked, obeying the regulations of his duty to the
letter. ‘Don’t keep the Regent too long,’ he said.

‘
I won’t.’

A bow, and
then he was inside. The doors closed behind him.

~

The inside of
the city hall wasn’t as he expected. It was only a single room,
immense in size and almost square in shape. The ceiling curved to a
large dome above him, and there were paintings he could barely see
between the beams. There were no windows, only weedy electric
lights that ran all across the walls. Faded ribbons hung from the
rafters, deathly still in the stale air.

His boots rang out as he walked slowly accross the stone
floor. Caeles stopped with his feet together and hands clasped in
respectful greeting.

Before him was the great throne of the Regent: wooden,
unadorned and not much higher than five feet. It was as
unimpressive as the small, wrinkled man who sat upon it.

‘
Greetings,’ said Caeles. ‘I hope you’re not too unhappy to see
me, Regent, but my party and I had no choice but to enter your
city, against our agreement.’

The man looked slowly up at the voice. Long white hair, thin
and uncared for, hung loosely around his shoulders, sprouting from
the sides of his half-bald head. Upon his gradual recognition, he
allowed his instant anger to dominate his creased face. Long-nailed
fingers clasped at the wooden throne.

‘
You! You …
dare
to enter my city.’ Spit landed in a light spray around
Caeles’ boots.

‘
I apologise for doing so,’ he said, bowing his
head.

‘
You apologise for doing so,’ the man derided. His neck seemed
to have trouble supporting his head. ‘Ha! You don’t have to talk
like the rest of them here, Caeles. For God’s sake, just act like
yourself.’

Slowly the head came up, and the Regent looked first at those
dark, angry eyes, then at the deep scar that ran below
them.

‘
I was there when you got that,’ he said. ‘I remember you
coming to take us all on, with that hideous gash dripping blood all
through your bandages. You looked a mess. Praise to Alison!’ Jason
Dysan laughed, teeth broken or missing, spit stretching between his
lips and running down his chin. ‘You killed everyone on the ship, I
think.’

‘
Alison’s gone. You followed Tan Cleric into a nightmare – that
was
your
choice.
And I didn’t kill
you
.’

‘
Whatever
!
’ the old man screamed. ‘You
killed my friends
!
And you spare me?
You put me through hell, you
bastard
!
’

Caeles watched as Dysan stopped to gulp in breath. Slowly the
Regent regained his composure, taking a moment to collect his
thoughts and emotions. Caeles couldn’t help but notice the glitter
of intelligence brighten behind the faded lenses of his eyes. He
wondered how a man made so grotesque by age and anger could still
live, or at least retain control over a city as large as São
Jantuo.

The skinny chest behind the robes deflated as Dysan
controlled himself. Slowly, and with deliberation, he reached into
a fold in his robes and removed a small cardboard box, with a
design that Caeles hadn’t seen for years. Long nails reached under
a lid, and carefully parted two flaps of tin foil, and then removed
a cigarette. An honest-to-god cigarette.

‘
Not seen one of those in years,’ Caeles murmured.

‘
Would you like one?’

‘
No thanks,’ he said. ‘No lungs.’

‘
I know that you could smoke if you wanted to,’ Dysan replied.
His old eye twinkled as he popped the cigarette into his mouth,
filter first. His dry lips could barely hold onto it.

With his bare forefinger and thumb, he pinched the end of the
cigarette. It seemed to light itself. A red flame ignited the
ancient tobacco inside the paper, and the Regent breathed in the
smoke.

‘
I only have one when I’m strung out,’ he explained. A little
of his rage returned to his face. ‘You make me strung out,
Caeles.’

‘
I know that I’m breaking our agreement. I’m sorry, but I don’t
have a choice. I’m not asking for much.’