Ella needed to think of how the Primate fit into everything that was happening. She had been so focussed on the Emperor. Was stealing the Lexicons simply a way of weakening the houses? Was it the Primate’s plan to drain the Lexicons and eradicate magic from the world? But without lore there would be no need for essence — how would he control the houses, those who would do anything to get their Lexicons back? The Primate could not expect to conquer all of Merralya, even with every templar warrior at his disposal.
Yet something was happening. They were at war. People were dying. Raj Halaran were fighting for their very existence, and soon it would be Altura’s turn. If the Primate had a plan, where did the Emperor stand in all of this?
Killian seemed lost in thought too. He had obviously brought up memories he had thought long buried. Ella’s feelings towards him had changed somehow; she knew him better now. She understood his purpose. She’d shared herself with him, back in Altura, and he’d now shared himself. Yet he was still distant. Would he come to help her, rather than crippling her people in a single blow? Or would he leave her, trick her, as he had done last time?
The sun burst again through a hole in the clouds. The horizon rose in an unbroken line, dropping off suddenly in the distance, as if they were walking towards a cliff.
"We’re walking to the rim of the crater," said Killian. There is a small canyon just on the edge. That’s where Torlac is located."
"When will we arrive?"
Killian looked at the sky. "Before sundown, if we’re lucky. After sundown, if we’re not."
"Killian?"
"What?" he frowned at her.
"Thank you for telling me. About your life I mean. It must have been hard."
He shrugged. "There are people who’ve had it worse, I should know."
"Still," Ella said, struggling to find the words. "I..."
"Come with me," he said.
He took her by the hand, his palm warm and dry. Ella ran with him to a crest in the rock — a random peak — tall and with a shallow enough slope to be easily ascended.
He laughed as he half-led, half-dragged her up the hill. Soon she stood with him at the summit, panting.
"Look!" he said.
She followed his arm, and gasped.
Ella looked over the rim of the cliff and into the bowl of the crater itself. It was immense. A road wound down from the rim, twisting first one way, then another, to eventually reach the shore of the sky-blue volcanic lake. An island occupied the centre of the lake, and a tiered city perched atop the landmass, rising level upon level to a turreted palace on the very summit. Flags and pennants fluttered in the wind, visible even from this distance, the raj hada of the elementalists a red-and-blue blur.
"There’s something coming from the water, what’s that haze?"
"It’s steam," Killian said. "The water is hot, almost boiling."
"It’s true then. How do they cross it?"
"See that small square, half way across the lake? There’s another one, passing it."
"Oh, I see it."
"That’s the Halapusa Ferry."
"Talk about a secure city."
"That it is, Ella. Look over to the right now — see that cleft in the crater’s rim? That’s where we’re headed: the trade city of Torlac. We’d best be going if we’re going to get there before nightfall."
44
Choose your ground well. War is a game of geography.
— Memoirs of Emperor Xenovere I, 318-7, 381 Y.E.
HIGH Enchantress Evora Guinestor blanched when she saw the body. It had been torn to pieces, completely dismembered, viscera spread across several hundred paces. The man’s head was finally found by one of the trackers, an expression of horror still readable on what was left of his face.
"There’s still one more scout missing," Captain Joram said soberly.
Evora pulled herself together. "Thank you, Captain. How many does that make in total?"
"Five. Two trackers and three scouts. Whatever it is, it’ll be onto the sentries next. High Enchantress, may I have a word alone?"
"Of course, Captain."
Evora walked away from the other men. The four ever-present bladesingers came along unbidden.
They had left Alturan lands some time ago. Moving such a large group of soldiers — nearly forty encumbered men — through the Wondhip Pass had been a difficult task, but they had come through with only a few cuts and scrapes. Her trackers said the thief had come this way, as had Ella. They’d found the corpse of the eldritch. Reading the marks of the runes, the High Enchantress couldn’t believe someone would do such a thing to an animal. And her respect for Ella had increased.
They’d also found evidence of two separate struggles in the pass. Apparently the thief had been accosted, but escaped. The second struggle was a different story — Evora could see the scorching marks left on the stone, burn marks that only powerful runes could make.
The young enchantress was learning.
One of the men said he could pass for a Petryan. He’d scouted the town across the pass, learning that there had been a struggle between some officials and a young girl with pale blonde hair who had asked about a priest.
Then the trackers had come back and reported that Ella had been captured. Evora only hoped the girl came out alive, untouched by the hands of the thief.
Their entire journey had been plagued by cliffs, rivers and treacherous passes. Now there was some evil creature out there.