Silver King — left behind. Something to defeat the dragons.’ She sighed. ‘Grand Master Jeiros knew how futile our expedition would be, but he let us go nonetheless, chose three junior alchemists he could easily afford to lose and waved us farewell. In his eyes you could see how certain he was that he’d never see us again. For our part, we thought the dragons would eat us long before we arrived. Yet we went, not because Speaker Lystra ordered it, but because there was nothing else for us to do. Nothing, do you understand? The dragons have all but destroyed us. You’ve seen for yourself. You went to Bloodsalt? There was an Adamantine Man with me who went there too. He told me it was dead. Lifeless. Nothing but sand and ash and water too poisonous to drink. That’s what the realms will become, all of them. So we did as we were asked. I don’t know what happened to the other alchemists. We travelled apart and I never saw them again.’ She looked at the Adamantine Man. ‘They reached the fortress too, I think, but then Hyrkallan killed them.’ She shook her head. Looked away, not wanting any response, not now. ‘We crossed the Fury and climbed the gorge and skirted the Raksheh, sheltering under its leaves. There were dragons there, hunting. Always. When we had to, we crossed the Harvest Realm in three long hard nights. Everything that used to be fields and towns and villages, just a wasteland of ash and embers and scorched stone. There’s no one alive there now. I think once I saw a mouse.’ She shook her head.
The Adamantine Man was glaring at her. ‘The dragons try to starve us out,’ he snarled. ‘Same as they always did with the Spur. Burn everything. Leave us with nothing. Wasted effort around the Silver City though.’ He laughed. ‘Before I got there, the dragons smashed the fountains on top of the Fortress of Watchfulness. Smashed them to pieces but that didn’t stop the water from coming out of them. It just spouted from the broken stones instead. Then they tried burning them, but stone doesn’t burn. They poured out their fire for days, one after the other without end, and the water through the fortress still ran cold and fresh.’
Kataros nodded, for a moment forgetting that the worst monster was right here next to her. ‘The Silver King’s magic. That’s what we came looking for. When we reached the Silver City, we were welcomed and given food and water, and we were so tired and so grateful.’
Skjorl shrugged. ‘I heard stories there was another alchemist. That they took him up to the top at night, smashed his wrists and his ankles and hung him from a wheel over the edge. Same as they did for your grand master before the Adamantine Palace fell. I heard there were soldiers as well. My sort. I don’t know what happened to them. As far as I know they were still alive. Didn’t see them.’ For a moment he looked away and she caught the whiff of some smouldering shame inside him. ‘Too busy.’
‘That’s why I came to the Pinnacles. That’s what I was looking for and that’s what you’re going to find for me in the Raksheh. A half-god’s secrets for mastering dragons.’
He laughed at her, long and hard. ‘You think they haven’t looked for those? They say the ghost of the Silver King walks along hidden passages deep under each of the three Pinnacles, but I say this: if even a part of the Silver King remained beneath the Pinnacles, we would bow to him, all of us, dragons too.’
‘There’s another place to look. A better place. His tomb.’ Skjorl laughed more. ‘Vishmir spent twenty years looking. A thousand dragons and ten times the riders. Didn’t find it though.’
‘So we are supposed to believe.’
The Adamantine Man shook his head. ‘Even if I had a choice, I might still go with you, alchemist. But you’ll find nothing, same as everyone else. We’ll die out there looking for it. If it exists at all, then it’s hidden from the likes of you.’
Kataros glanced down at the outsider. He was still pretending be be asleep. ‘But not from him.’
Skjorl stared at her.
‘He’s been there. He found it. In the Raksheh. And now he’s going to show us the way.’
Skjorl stared at her some more. Then he fell back onto the raft and roared with laughter. ‘That’s what he told you, is it? That he’d found the Silver King’s tomb? And you believed that?’ He shook his head in disbelief. Kataros leaned towards him.
‘Yes. And would you like to see why I believed him?’ She turned to Siff. ‘I know you’re listening. Show him. Show him what you showed me.’
Very slowly Siff sat up. When he opened his eyes, they gleamed in the half-light of the tunnel walls.
They were silver.
Looking down over the confluence of the Fury and the Yamuna, Farakkan is little more than a market on a little hill, but the fact that it lies above the flood plain of Bonjanland (frequently becoming an island for most of the late spring and early summer) and is visible from a long distance across the flat terrain makes it seem something more. The city is wet, filthy and muddy and is largely viewed with disdain by the courts of the surrounding realms. The people of Farakkan are used to this and seem not to care. It has no culture to speak of and offers little to interest those whose lives are not dedicated to food, fish or livestock.
Bellepheros’ Journal of the Realms, 2nd year of Speaker Hyram
23
Some two years before the Black Mausoleum
On a bright clear day the lookout could have seen for miles across the valleys, peering between the mountaintops. He could have seen the approaching dragons when they were still specks in the sky. He could have lit the warning fire that would have told the men and women living in the valley to drop whatever they were holding, snatch up their children and run deep into the forest, where the dragons wouldn’t find them. On a bright clear day like today all of those things would have happened. Except the lookout was dead.
Probably dead. Siff waited for a few seconds. He’d shot the man in the chest, but instead of pitching over the edge of the watch-tower like he was supposed to, the lookout had fallen back, out of sight from the ground.
There were no shouts or screams or groans. Nothing moved. Satisfied, Siff scampered up the ladder. The tower wasn’t much, nothing more than a wooden platform with a beacon fire on top of it and a thatched roof to keep the rain off. The lookout had fallen onto the pile of wood. He was definitely dead.
Sashi had followed Siff up the ladder. She looked at the body and spat. ‘Bastard!’
‘You knew him?’ Siff raised an eyebrow.
She snorted. ‘In a manner of speaking.’ Sashi stamped on the dead man’s face. Hard.
‘Ouch.’ Siff crouched and put a finger to his lips. The second lookout was on his way back.
‘This one’s mine. ’ Sashi dropped to her haunches and sat perfectly silent and still. They heard the second man’s footsteps scuffing the dry dirt below. Then the tower started to shake as he made his way up the ladder. His face appeared over the edge and he stopped. Sashi shot to her feet. She pointed an accusing finger and shrieked, ‘Son of a whore’s puke!’ There would have been more and probably a lot worse, but Siff put an end to it: he pushed past and kicked the man in the face. Then he lost his balance. Both of them toppled backwards but the man on the ladder had a lot further to fall. He lay groaning on the ground some twenty feet below. When he looked like he might be about to get back to his feet, Siff put an arrow through his hip. Then he held up his hands and put down his bow.
‘All yours, Sashi.’
If she heard the exasperation in his voice, it didn’t show. ‘Come with me.’
‘Do I have to?’
‘What if he’s got a knife? Anyway I want you to watch.’
Siff wrinkled his nose. ‘You want me to watch? Why?’
‘I want you to see what I’m like when people treat me wrong.’ He sighed and rolled his eyes and climbed down the ladder, kicked the man a few times to keep him quiet and turned him over. Sure enough, he had a hunting knife strapped to the back of his belt. Siff took it and handed it to Sashi. ‘If he’s got a knife, make it your knife.’ He turned the man over again so that he was looking up at them.
Sashi hesitated for a second or two. She stared at the man at her feet and he stared back, his eyes blank and
