The Path of the Storm (The Evermen Saga, Book Three) Page 18

  Ella decided it was time to go to Seranthia.

  21

  AFTER yet another journey, this time north to Seranthia, Ella immediately continued her search. She had little difficulty locating the Assembly-run orphanage. The place was huge, bigger than the Crystal Palace back in Sarostar.

  It still existed as an orphanage; if anything, the priests and templars who ran the place had more work than they could handle. The war had torn families apart, and the resulting poverty and disease had led to countless sad stories of children without parents. Even now, two years later, new arrivals were flooding in.

  Ella tried the same tactic that had worked for her back in Stonewater, introducing herself and then getting to the point of her visit.

  "Can I see your records?" she asked the matronly woman who held a little girl in one arm and a lad's hand in the other.

  "Records?" the woman asked, frowning suspiciously. "What for?"

  "I'm looking for someone…" Ella said.

  "Oh, I see," the matronly woman's eyebrows went up, and Ella realised the woman thought she was looking for a child she'd given up. "Hold on, stay here, I'll be back in a moment."

  Ella waited in the reception chamber while the woman disappeared with the children. While she waited a flaxen-haired boy chased a sweet-faced girl into the room, the girl squealing with mock fear and circling back out.

  "Now," Ella heard behind her. The matronly woman, now without her charges, held her hands on her hips. "How long ago was the child brought here?"

  "He was transferred to the Alma orphanage in Salvation in five twenty-two," Ella said.

  The woman snorted. "Are you pulling my leg?"

  "No."

  "Listen, I've got bad news for you. There was a fire here in five thirty, eight years after that. Nothing survived. No records. Nothing."

  Ella's heart sank. She'd come so close. Once, when just a babe, Killian had been brought to this orphanage. He'd stayed here a short while before being transferred to Salvation. Now, the trail had gone cold.

  "Oh," Ella said. "I can see you're busy. I won't take more of your time."

  Ella left the reception chamber and walked back to the wrought iron gates, the bars reminding her of nothing so much as a prison. The children seemed happy. Still, Ella thought it was a sad place. These children hadn't had a choice; their parents had been taken from them, along with any chance of a normal life.

  Something small and wild crashed into Ella from behind.

  Ella looked down and saw a child, with long unruly hair and dirt on his cheeks. The child looked up at her and grinned with mischief.

  "Come back, Stefan!" a reedy voice called.

  Ella took hold of the child by his upper arm, holding him gently as he squealed, while an old man approached.

  He looked as ancient as the orphanage itself, with limbs like sticks, thin white hair and dry skin.

  "Thank you, young lady," the old man said, taking the squirming boy from Ella.

  "Happy to help." Ella looked into the old man's eyes. "Have you worked here long?"

  "Thirty-five… No, thirty-six years, I've worked here," he said proudly.

  "Can I ask you something? I'm looking for an orphan who arrived here around five twenty-two. He was transferred to the Alma orphanage in Salvation."

  The old man barked a laugh. "Do you know how many boys I've seen come through these gates? That's over twenty years ago!"

  "He would have been only small, and he had red hair," Ella said. "A strange red, the colour of bright fire. And blue eyes. The bluest you've ever seen."

  The old man's eyes slowly widened, and Ella knew she'd struck a nerve.

  "They told me the records were destroyed in a fire," Ella said.

  "Run along, Stefan," he said, giving the boy a gentle shove. He waited a moment before speaking. "The records were destroyed long before the fire," the old man said. "I remember, though, I do. You never forget something like that. You're in the wrong place, though, young lady. Try the courthouse."

  "The courthouse?"

  "The Imperial Courthouse, near the palace. That's where you need to look."

  Without further explanation, the old man turned away.

  ~

  THERE were three courthouses in Seranthia, each filling a different purpose.

  Three blocks from the palace, still in the Imperial Quarter, the Commoners' Courthouse was where the arbiters ruled against thieves and swindlers, brawlers and cut-throats. Occasionally neighbours fought over the line of a fence and merchants fought for the right to display their wares at a certain place. It was guarded during the day by heavily armoured Tingaran legionnaires, and at night muscled dogs patrolled the grounds.

  The Military Courthouse nearby was where they tried deserters and men who'd disobeyed the orders of their officers or showed cowardice in battle. In the days of Emperor Xenovere V, there wasn't a day when fresh bodies weren't swinging from the gallows next to the utilitarian building.

  By contrast, the Imperial Courthouse was the closest structure to the palace, and the grandest in design. If a lord had an issue to resolve with another lord, perhaps his virginal daughter was engaged to a recently-discovered philanderer, here was where he came. Lords paid their taxes here, and a great deal of gilden was stored in the vaults. The bloodlines of the families were charted and updated here. Even the Emperor's offspring were registered and legitimised by the records stored in the archives.

  The Imperial Courthouse wasn't somewhere where Ella could simply walk up and ask to see the records.

  During the day it was the scene of constant comings and goings. Any large nation needed bureaucracy, and the Tingaran Empire was the greatest nation the world had known. Rogan Jarvish was trying to have the new Empire seamlessly replace the old, and kept the machine of government running much as it always had. Watching the building, Ella saw that high above the massive doors the Tingaran raj hada had been replaced by the new device, the nine-pointed star.

  Ella could never enter the Imperial Courthouse by force. She was only blocks from the Imperial Palace, and the last thing Rogan Jarvish needed was another disturbance.

  She knew the locks would be magical, rather than mechanical. With her knowledge of the runes, Ella was able to decode complex matrices, even when the activation sequence had been deliberately hidden within the pattern.

  Ella was confident she could solve the codes on any locks she found. She decided to visit the Imperial Courthouse at night.

  ~

  THE NEXT day, Ella was brought in front of Rogan Jarvish. He wasn't pleased.

  "Why were you trying to break into the Imperial Courthouse, Ella?" Rogan said. "Lord of the Sky, last I knew you were on your way to Ku Kara. I didn't even know you were back in Tingara."

  Ella shuffled in her seat, trying to think of the right words to say.

  "You know there are wards that can detect shadow," he said. "The Primate might not have had the best knowledge of lore, but the Emperor's people certainly did. We can't have people tampering with official documents now, can we?" He glared at her.

  Ella wore her green enchantress's dress, having used its power to slip past the guards at the Imperial Courthouse the previous night. She hadn't expected wards.

  She was so close. She wasn't ready to talk to anyone yet.

  "I… I'm sorry," Ella said, "but I can't say."

  Rogan shook his head. "That's not good enough," he said. "If there's something you need, you should feel you can ask me."

  "I'm digging up a secret, but I can't say anything until I know for sure. Not even to you."

  "I'm sorry, Ella, but I don't like secrets, and if they're going to be 'dug up', I'd like to know why they were buried in the first place. Do you really want me to put you under house arrest?"

  Ella's eyes blazed. "I'd like to see you try."

  Rogan Jarvish placed his hands on his desk and slowly stood.

  Ella looked up at the tall man and remembered the time, long ago, when Rogan had been
trying to track her down in Sarostar to give her Lady Katherine's legacy. With his scarred face and deadly grace he'd scared her then.

  Suddenly he scared her now.

  "I can have my hand around your throat before you can speak a word," Rogan said calmly. "You think they don't teach bladesingers how to defeat your kind?"

  Ella's neck felt terribly exposed.

  Rogan sat back down. "Relax, Ella. Now, why don't you tell me what you're trying to achieve?"

  Ella took a deep breath. "I spoke to Dain Barden of the Akari. Rogan, one of the Evermen is in Merralya."

  Rogan drew back. "Evrin said he wasn't sure, but he asked me to build that wall…"

  "Now we know. The essence drained from the pool, the portal opened, and someone crossed. Seeking essence, he went to the Akari. He took several of their necromancers with him, as well as enough essence to build the vats. Right now, he's out there somewhere — an evil creature with incredible power. I believe he will be building an army of revenants. He will come for Seranthia, Rogan. He needs to bring the other Evermen home."

  "And he'll be coming when we're at our weakest," Rogan said. "Lord of the Sky, the people won't let go of their belief in the Evermen. What will they do when one shows up?"

  "We need to rebuild the machines. Evrin is doing everything he can, he barely sleeps. We need to hold the Empire together, and I know you're doing everything you can. But there's something I can do."

  "What is it?"

  "It's about Killian."

  "Your young man, the one who crossed... the one you say has their powers. I thought it might be. Ella, Evrin Evenstar said you could never bring him back."

  "Killian has their power. Trust me in this, Rogan. You won't believe the things he's capable of. When the time comes, we'll need every weapon at our disposal."

  "I'm with you so far, but what is it you plan to do?"

  "It's a long story, but if I can find Killian's parents, I can find a way to bring him back. The trail leads to the Imperial Courthouse."

  "How can you be sure that if you open the portal, more of the Evermen won't cross over?"

  "I'll only open it for the shortest time," said Ella. "And I won't be waiting for Killian to simply step through."

  "What will you do, then?"

  "I'll cross over and get him myself."

  Rogan thought for a moment. "All right, Ella. I'll have some of my men take you to the courthouse right now. Just don't go digging up any secrets, not without talking to me first."

  Ella nodded. "Of course."

  ~

  WITH the custodian's help, Ella quickly located the records for the years she was interested in. She started at what she guessed would be two years before Killian's birth, methodically searching through birth and marriage certificates, custody battles, divorces and deaths.

  After eight hours of searching, she reached the end of the period. She hadn't found anything.

  She thought back to the old man at the orphanage. The way he'd spoken, something had happened that was more than just a trivial event, something that involved the destruction of records and the elimination of evidence.

  Ella decided to study the criminal trials.

  These were the cases that were a matter of death or imprisonment for those convicted — lords and ladies weren't frequently convicted for theft or brawling. These trials were for adultery, murder, and corruption. Surprisingly frequently, nobles were put on trial for treason.

  The Emperor had been a man jealous of his power, and from the trial notes Ella read, he wasn't above sentencing those closest to him to death.

  The cases were fascinating, but Ella forced herself to concentrate on the details, scanning each set of notes swiftly before moving onto the next.

  Yet she stopped at one thick file in particular, unable to stop reading. This case was from the time the Rebellion broke out, a time within the span of years Ella was interested in. Over twenty years ago, the Western Rebellion was the war that saw Miro and Ella's father, the Alturan High Lord Serosa Torresante, executed by the Emperor. It was the war that made them orphans.

  The story of the war's inciting event was familiar. The Halrana High Lord at the time had married his only daughter to Emperor Xenovere. A man of uncertain temper, Xenovere had beaten his new wife in a sudden rage, killing her.

  The Emperor had tried to cover up what he'd done, but Lord Aidan Alderon, a man married to Xenovere's sister, secretly passed the true story to the Halrana High Lord.

  The Halrana called on their steadfast allies, the Alturans. The result was the Western Rebellion.

  The case Ella now held in her hands was the set of notes from Lord Aidan's trial.

  Inevitably, Lord Aidan was found guilty of treason. Lady Alise, the Emperor's sister, pleaded with her brother to save her husband's life. Her desperate words were recorded, and Ella felt her throat catch.

  Xenovere was unrelenting, and Lord Aidan was killed by hanging, the penalty for treason. He then intended to hang Lord Aidan's body from the Wall for three days. But after further begging from Lady Alise, Xenovere relented, and allowed his sister to intern her husband's body in the nobles' cemetery in Westcliff.

  The case summary ended there, but directed the reader to another file, the trial of Lady Alise.

  Ella hunted through the records until she found it. This case continued the sad story of Lord Aidan's family. Unable to look away, Ella read on.

  The Rebellion became a full-fledged war. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to her brother the Emperor, Lady Alise had been pregnant with Lord Aidan's child. During his trial, Lord Aidan must have known his wife carried his child, Ella realised. Poor man!

  As the war raged, Lady Alise gave birth to a traitor's child. Fearing for her life and that of her son, Alise tried to flee Tingara and her mad brother. The Emperor's men caught them trying to find passage to Altura, and after a summary trial, Xenovere's sister was also convicted of treason.

  Whatever feelings the Emperor had left caused him to exile his sister to the Isle of Ana, a small rock off Tingara's eastern coast. The child was taken from Lady Alise and never seen again.

  Ella put down the papers and looked up, absorbed in the tale. She suddenly had an idea, and found the custodian as quickly as she could.

  "Please," she said, "I need to see a register of nobles."

  It was a simple request, and soon Ella was turning the heavy pages. It didn't take her long to find them

  "Lady Alise," she spoke aloud. "Hair colour: brown, eye colour: brown." She flipped through the pages some more, finally finding it. "Lord Aidan. Hair colour: red, eye colour: blue."

  Ella needed one final confirmation. She again found the custodian, a hawk-eyed man with patrician features, "I need your help."

  "What is it?"

  Ella couldn't hide what she was looking for and still seek the custodian's help. She showed him the trial of Lady Alise. "The child that was taken from her. How would I find out his name?"

  The custodian looked at Ella with grave eyes. "I don't need to search the records to tell you," he said. "It was no small thing."

  Ella held her breath.

  "I remember it clearly. The child's name," the custodian said, "was Killian."

  Ella's heart pounded in her chest.

  She had been looking for Killian's parents, but she'd never expected to find this.

  Ella needed to know one last thing.

  She scanned the register of nobles until it became clear.

  "Lord of the Sky," she breathed.

  Killian, orphan from Salvation, as the nephew of the last Emperor, was Xenovere's closest living relative.

  Killian was the heir to the Empire.

  22

  MIRO woke to a fierce headache, the blood throbbing inside his head, pounding into his temples with hammer-like blows.

  The sun was bright and the sea was calm. He tried to sit up, but felt arms pushing him gently back down.

  "Please," it was Amber's voice, "don't get up. I'm sorry you're
still on deck but I haven't had a chance to move you to the cabin."

  "What happened?"

  "The mizzen mast fell and something cracked you on the head. The ship came about and almost capsized. You nearly went over the side."

  "How did you…?"

  Miro could hear the exhaustion in her voice. "Luck, and a very long night."

  "You need to rest," Miro groaned.

  "I do, but you need it more than I do. You've got a lump the size of my fist on your head. There was blood. Lord of the Sky, I can't tell you how scared I was. But you weren't cut deeply. Now rest."

  "How's the ship?"

  "We've lost both masts and the two big sails. There was a small headsail in the forward stowage area, which I've rigged using a line and what was left of the mizzen mast. We have some steerage, which is better than nothing. At least the storm has passed. Get some rest. I'm going to try to catch some fish using some of the bloody rag I mopped your head with."

  ~

  THE NEXT time Miro woke he felt much better, albeit unbelievably thirsty. He stood up and looked around the deck.

  Amber had been busy, and rather than the chaos he'd expected he instead noticed the emptiness where the main mast had been. The smaller mizzen mast — what remained of it — had been lashed to the main mast's stump. At the top of the mizzen mast a stiff line ran to the bowsprit, and a small triangle of sail had been unfurled from the line.

  Miro found Amber up on the stern castle; she'd lashed the tiller in place but was keeping an eye on it while she filleted two small fish.

  "What would I do without you?" Miro said.

  "Drown," Amber said, looking up and smiling slightly. There were blue marks under her eyes; it must have been days since she'd slept. "Here," she handed Miro a chunk of raw fish.

  Miro gulped it down, his stomach gnawing as he did, craving more. He then gulped down the water Amber offered him.

  He waited until Amber finished with the fish, keeping the head, guts and tail for bait, and then spoke. "I'll be all right now. Go to the cabin and get some rest."