Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) (28 page)

‘You seem like a child at the Winter Festival,’ she giggled. ‘You don’t know what to look at first!’

‘I do,’ I replied quietly, gazing at her.

What little I could see of her skin through the veil flushed pink. It only made her even more attractive. I laughed to cover my own embarrassment.

‘What a magnificent town,’ I said to change the subject. ‘Will we see the palace soon?’

‘The guards said it’s too late to announce our arrival tonight,’ Sarlice protested. ‘Aren’t you tired?’

‘Let us simply look upon it,’ Lira argued. ‘Come along, the palace is this way.’

With her hand over mine, Lira pulled on the left rein and nudged the gelding with her ankles. We followed the main road past the first town circle and along a forested path towards the palace. It was poised on a steep bank, trees and shrubs clinging to the castle walls. Red and cream turrets and spires twisted from the outer walls, reminding me of blood and bones. Though a magnificent sight, a sense of foreboding crept out at me from the palace. This place, this bastion of power, signified the fate of my people.

A narrow river flowed right up to the palace, forming a moat. A southern and northern gangway allowed entry into the palace from either side of the river. Guards manned both gangways. Their expressions were stern and focused despite the tranquillity of the evening. I raised my eyes to take in the full height of the palace, and gasped. Capril and Naeva had risen high in the sky like two guardians hovering over it. Stars shone through a veil of clouds.

Lira pointed to the largest of the turrets, ‘That’s where the king keeps some of his treasure. The only way in is over that bridge going from the spire to the east.’

Sarlice looked at her in surprise. Duria snorted.

‘You know your way around here well,’ said my guide.

‘My family had some connections,’ Lira replied smoothly. ‘I’ve been here before, for the king’s Winter Ball.’

I wondered what it would be like courting a woman of Lira’s birth, attending balls and feasts. A Demaeda noble wouldn’t normally be seen with the likes of me, probably, but if Lira was the sole surviving heir, perhaps it would be up to her whom she courted. The magnificent palace, the clear cold night, and the company I was in gave me a sense of awe and appreciation. Anything seemed possible.

‘Nothing has changed since I was last here, except for the guards,’ Sarlice said, killing the mood.

I sighed, but my curiosity was piqued. It might be useful to know what was going on in the palace before we came here on the morrow. ‘How many were here before?’ I asked.

Lira replied before Sarlice could, ‘None. Flale is afraid the Zeikas have it in for him.’

Was there an edge of bitterness—even scorn—in her voice?

‘I would be, too,’ Sarlice replied.

‘I wonder why he lifted their exile then,’ I muttered.

Lira led us away from the castle and we passed the large fountain in the Town Circle once more. She took us to a tall tavern nearby, named
Three Storeys
. Sarlice waved a sleepy stable boy back to his hay bed. We put the horses into a small undercover pen, gave them hay and water, brushed them down and hung their tack out on a beam nearby.

Sarlice strode ahead of Lira and I, set down her gear and opened the heavy wooden door of the tavern. It creaked loudly and the foyer inside was dark and quiet. The stable boy pushed past us and disappeared up the stairs. Realising we may have to wait a while I put down my gear as well.

After ten minutes or so a stocky-looking woman came from one of the rooms upstairs, holding a lantern and a tin of spare oil. The boy trudged back outside, casting a wary eye at our tigers.

‘Rada travellers are you?’ The woman’s eyes were sad.

‘Aye,’ I said.

Rekala shook herself, and the whitish-grey fur of her ruff bristled. I ran my fingers through it and she made eye contact and chuffed at me.

‘Are Rada-kin welcome here?’ Sarlice asked.

The woman sighed. ‘Here, aye. Telby City, less certain. There have been… incidents of late. Whether it’s Zeikas or that new anti-Ra… well anti-something cult—nobody can be sure—many Rada have been disappearing. Some even turnin’ up face down, if you know what I mean. And the dead ones weren’t just your average Rada neither. Usually Tolites or ancient-bloods, what do they call them—Unzai?’ Her tone became lighter. ‘But the deaths have been getting fewer and farther between.’

I clenched my teeth. Rekala’s fur stood a little higher, but her keen senses detected no threat nearby. The incident out the front of Bessed’s cabin came back to me. I could almost smell the blood that had been spilled from Feera, Jaria’s previous Anzaii. Could that same spy cult, the Wavekeepers, be involved in these murders here in Telby?

‘Perhaps the deaths are getting fewer because the targets are fewer,’ Sarlice muttered angrily.

The woman’s gaze fell on Sarlice then travelled to Lira. For a moment she looked suspiciously at her veil, then realisation dawned in her eyes.

‘Oh… I’m sorry dear, you must think me heartless. To have been talking on about murders like that when you’re obviously still in mourning, yourself. What kind of rooms for the three of you?’

‘We will pay eight silvers for
one room
,’ Sarlice answered. ‘Plus food for ourselves, an entire goat for our Rada-kin and feed for the horses we put up in your stables.’

The woman blinked several times, came to some kind of calculation on her hands and seemed about to protest. After a look into Sarlice’s determined eyes, however, she nodded tersely.

‘Of course,’ she said and led us up the stairs, down a creaky hall and into a dark, musty room. Reeds were strewn on the floor, but they did little to mask the scent of too much humanity in too little space. There was no window and I surmised the room was not touching an outer wall. A refurbished supplies cupboard, again. Being stuffed into this rat-hole made me long for the clean, fresh air of the forest and a roof of stars. Seeing my sneer of disappointment, Lira patted my hand.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘I don’t expect we’ll be here long.’

A stream of warm air flew by my face. Light stroked the horizon. From my perch atop
Three Storeys
I could just make out land beyond the walls of Telby City. Compelled from sleep in the close quarters of our room, I had wandered listlessly in the dawn. As much as I enjoyed being with Lira, Sarlice and the Rada-kin, it was sometimes blissful to be alone. I had even left Tiaro behind, in her case, with my things.

I drew my knees up and rested my arms on them. On the streets below me, dozens of people were already moving about. From my privileged position I perceived them as distant strangers, wandering the road of life in a sort of dream. If King Flale knew I was sitting up on one of his buildings like I owned the place he would probably split crystal.

A wave of foreboding passed over me. I was going to try to meet the king of Telby today, and I wasn’t confident his thoughts toward Jaria and Lyth were friendly. Perhaps he feared the Rada and therefore found the independent nature of Jaria and Lyth threatening. For a kingdom that prided itself on its modernism, Telby was remarkably ungrateful to those who had helped make it what it was. Although the Realm Wars had occurred before I was born the prowess of the Rada throughout Telby in those days was legendary. Hardly a battle took place where the shapeshifters hadn’t played a crucial part.

I wondered how much of Jaria’s history I would need to know for my conversation with King Flale. Given that he had come to power the year I was born and subsequently lost three of the four realms his brother Aabyn had gained, Flale may not wish to discuss much history. Still, I couldn’t help worrying that my knowledge would come up short.

I didn’t know what to expect from the king, or even how to approach the possibility of getting him to sign the papers Namal had drawn up. Jaria’s best trade goods were on offer to Telby, but I wasn’t sure if all the leather, gems and spices in the world would be enough to entice the king to protect us from the Zeikas. What if he wanted something else from Jaria, a request the leaders hadn’t prepared me for?

It didn’t seem real that, of all the people in Jaria who could have been sent here as ambassador, the leaders of Jaria had chosen me. They needed to be sure I wasn’t an Astor before giving me a permanent responsibility in the village. Telby City was on my way to where I was ultimately heading, but that didn’t mean they had to choose me. Another person could have been sent with us, someone more qualified in diplomacy and politics. I was merely a quartermaster’s apprentice and, even though that quartermaster had been made prime, it didn’t follow that I was as qualified as Bessed to take on a political role.

I would have to stop thinking of myself as his apprentice. Things had changed—I was an Anzaii, Rada warrior now, with the possibility of becoming Tolite and Sleffion as well. The thought of wielding such powers was almost enough to outweigh the responsibility that soon followed. To what end would I, the orphaned son of a disgraced military leader, be given such abilities? Only the Lightmaker knew.

I sat back with my hands on the stone roof behind me and my legs stretched out in front. The dawn broke before me, sending rays of light through gaps in the clouds and bright yellow warmth across the land. In the middle distance, a cathedral’s banners fluttered and the shadows cast by its many turrets and spires metamorphosed before my eyes. The streets teemed with life. People and animals flowed onto the cobblestone roadways. There were even more crowds in the poorer areas, kicking up clouds of dust.

I heard a bang from inside the chute I had used to access the roof of
Three Storeys
and cursed silently as the door started to swing open. With a small growl I leaned down into cat form. The shock of such a quick transition set my ears to ringing. Despite practising alongside Rekala, the pain and dizziness of each transformation was still intense. The woman who had greeted us last night, climbed out of the chute, dragging a broken barrel behind her. When she turned to set it down, I darted back inside, landing softly on the wooden floorboards of the attic. I sneezed from the dust I had disturbed and looked around at all the exciting nooks and crannies I could explore.

I trotted around the outer wall of the attic and descended a narrow set of stairs to the third storey. Two bleary-eyed males were leaning against the rail outside their rooms, talking in low voices, blocking my path to the next set of stairs. I sat still for a moment, licking the short, mottled fur of my left forefoot and washing behind my ears with it. I had seen a hundred cats do the exact same thing so it didn’t feel strange to be grooming myself while in the form of one.

A door burst open behind me, spewing forth a half-dressed man who laughed as a woman screamed invectives at him from inside.

‘Shoo, cat,’ he said in response to my hiss.

Taking my chances with the three other men I ran swiftly between their legs and hurried downstairs. Once I’d made it to the ground floor, I could hear the common room buzzing with voices. A man in overalls was sweeping the floor and whistling quietly. When he noticed the small foreign cat walk in through the foyer he shook his broom at it. I closed my eyes and released the string of concentration on the waves that was holding me in cat form. The man gasped in surprise.

He shoved the broom against the bar. ‘Confounded Rada. Think it’s funny, do ya, sneakin’ up on people in disguise? Naeva knows what you might poke your noses into.’

‘I apologise,’ I replied.
‘Perhaps I’d better be a bit more subtle while in Telby City.’
I added to Rekala and Tiaro.

‘You’re the ones what arrived late last night.’

‘Aye.’ I bowed and asked, ‘I take it you’re the tavern owner?’

‘Aye,’ he muttered.

I sat at the bar and folded my arms. Footsteps echoed softly down the stairs and Sarlice entered moments later, hair swept up high. She wore a red and white dress with gold trim. The white sleeves were long and dangled open at the wrists. An intricate blue and gold embroidered circlet sat just above each elbow, bearing the symbol of Lyth—a bear running through water.

Her eyes were bright and focused, her smile warm when she looked upon me.

‘Nice shirt,’ she commented, letting her eyes rove across my body. ‘You’ll do.’

I got the impression from Kestric that Sarlice was a little more impressed than she let on. I grinned mischievously at her. The fine clothing Bessed had given to me wasn’t as comfortable as the more practical attire I was used to.

Having left Jaria and the mountains behind me it seemed fitting that I would start to wear clothes that I hadn’t worn before. Telby was a lot warmer than Jaria, and the cultural expectations of this crowded metropolis were far beyond anything I’d experienced before. The Jarian Anzaii artefact Namal had given to me was cinched around my waist, matching perfectly with the blue sapphire tree leaves in my mother’s pendant and in Tiaro. The clothing boosted my confidence.

Sarlice’s hands were empty, but I suspected her boots and clothing hid at least two weapons. Kestric and Rekala were by her side—the firetiger and the icetiger making a striking, formidable pair. Rekala’s greyish fur had mostly shed, leaving a motley pattern of blue and grey between her black stripes.

Many of the tavern patrons whispered among themselves and craned their necks to see us. Although there were about nine hundred Rada in Telby City the total population numbered somewhere around four hundred thousand. The presence of two tigers tended to stand out.

‘Is Lira still asleep?’ I asked as our food was served.

‘Said she wasn’t hungry,’ my guide said. With a shrug, she forked rubbery egg into her mouth.

‘That’s hard to believe—I’m starving.’ I swallowed a hot chunk of meat that burned my tongue before I managed to swallow it.

‘I can see that,’ Sarlice said, through a condescending grin.

After a few more mouthfuls she paused and said, ‘Do you still think it’s a good idea?’

‘What?’

‘Traveling with her.’

‘Lira?’