Imperial Towers

="toc_marker-1" class="chapter-heading">Chapter 1. Pale morning light broke across the camp, streaming down from between mountain peaks, gleaming on the mist. There was a hush beneath the trees, as the fire slowly re-awoke, eager flames curling around the piece of wood Never had placed within the ash. No birds chattered yet and neither Luis nor Tsolde stirred within their tents. It should have been beautiful but Never couldn’t enjoy the peace. He flexed his fingers, one at a time. Each responded perfectly – no pain. His entire hand was whole, as if the terrible blood-fire had not seared it down to bone. But when he’d removed the bandages earlier, there it was. Healed. Only now, his hand was pale with black marks here and there, exactly like the bark of a birch tree. And while his skin remained smooth, it had grown hard as wood. It was a gradual change that blended perfectly into his natural, tanned complexion by the time his wrist met his forearm. A gift from the Bleak Man’s tree? Surely it was the reason he’d been healing so fast of late – the tree’s powers of regrowth had somehow melded with his own Amouni magic. Fortuitous indeed. It should have been pleasing and yet he felt no rush of satisfaction at a mystery solved, and only the barest hint of relief at the restoration of his hand. A grim truth could no longer be denied or even half-acknowledged. His brother was lost. Never had no choice; he had to destroy Snow. And perhaps it shouldn’t have been so difficult to accept. After all, he’d known for a long time that Snow was unhinged. Yet it was still a shock to learn just how broken Snow had become. More so than the impossible fact that his brother had wings. Even the question of how was dampened by the chill of his newfound realisation. He glanced up to the sky. Gods, but you are cruel, aren’t you? He stood and walked to the broad pine where the Life-Memory had appeared in fiery blue. He rested his hand – his newly restored hand – against the bark with a sigh. Something stirred within him. The slow spread of wood and leaf over decades and even, it seemed for these trees, centuries. A benevolent sense of their age washed over him, bringing something more, an awareness of the earth itself. The roots of the trees ran deep and there they wrapped the relics of the past, old stone, old rivers now long since filled in, old roads broken and buried. But within those places echoes of the Amouni lingered. Somewhere beneath they had once gathered upon a podium to... travel. Far beyond and far more swiftly than what could be achieved by horse or boat. Powerful magic indeed. Yet the how was not clear from the mere traces that remained. “Never?” Tsolde stood nearby, wrapped in her blanket. He gave her a smile, holding up his hand. “I wonder if I could grow back a head if I needed to?” Her eyes widened and she strode forward, reaching out to take his hand. “It’s completely healed...” She met his eyes. “It looks like bark but it feels like skin and flesh. And it’s hard too.” “Quite the parting gift, isn’t it?” She shifted her feet. “What are you going to do?” “About my brother?” He leant against the tree and closed his eyes a moment. How to answer? “Kill him. But I won’t lie; I don’t know if I can.” “Because of his power?” “Because he is still my brother.” She gave a weak smile. “You’ll work it all out when the time comes.” “I’m glad you’re confident in me,” Never said. “Since I don’t think I am. How is Luis?” “He hasn’t woken yet.” “Well, let’s get something hot ready for when he does.” Never started for the camp. Luis was lucky, if a broken rib could be called lucky. But it was better than internal bleeding, which, so far, it seemed he’d avoided. What he needed was some batena or stone-bulbs to dull the pain, but while the bulbs were possible, the batena wasn’t likely. “Boil some water, can you?” Never asked. “And see if Mondesa packed any medicine for us. I’m going to look for some herbs for Luis, just in case.” If his luck held he’d be able to find some stone-bulbs to crush down to powder. The paste was a fair painkiller but there was an unfortunate secondary effect; hallucinations. Still, better than nothing. He strode into the trees and crouched in the undergrowth covering a depression, brushing aside needles from the cold earth until he found the tear-shaped bulbs, half-buried by years of decay. Two only, each no larger than his fingernail, but he harvested them and kept searching until he had enough. Back in the camp, the pot simmered as Tsolde prepared their meal. “Did you find anything?” Never nodded as he sat across from the blaze, rummaging around his pack for a second pot and his flask. Placing the stone-bulbs into the pot he added a little water and drew a blade, using the pommel to crush the bulbs into a paste. It would be applied to Luis’ torso then bandaged – allowing its properties to seep through the skin and dull the pain. Not as potent, perhaps, as ingesting the paste but the hallucinations that tended to result from such a method were far more vivid, even terrifying. As it was, Luis would still experience some strange visions. “Are we still safe here?” Tsolde asked, glancing to the trees that climbed the ridge. “We ought to be. I see no reason why any passing Vadiya would take such a detour.” “What about Snow?” “No. He’d not set them on our path; he needs me.” “Not to kill but to capture.” Never paused. Hadn’t Snow tried as much, back on the river with the thugs? Ever-since, Snow had tried reason but that wouldn’t always be the case. “Perhaps. I’ll scout the road once we have Luis comfortable.” In the tent, he knelt beside Luis, whose chest rose and fell beneath the blankets. The man rested with a furrowed brow, as if in pain even while he slept. And he probably was. “Luis?” Never placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Luis opened his eyes and groaned. “So I didn’t magically heal overnight,” he said. Never grinned. “No Amouni blood.” “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” he said, wincing when he shifted. “What happened?” “After Snow hit you we fought some more and he flew away. Tsolde and I got you here and you’ve been unconscious since. Oh, and my hand healed itself.” Luis blinked rapidly. “Ah...” “A lot to take in, right?” “That’s an understatement.” Never lifted the pot. “This is a paste to help with the pain, I’ll apply it to your skin then we’ll bandage you up again.” “Do it.” Never offered his friend a sympathetic smile. “Ready to sit up?” Luis sucked in a breath and pushed himself slowly into a sitting position, gripping Never’s outstretched arm and grinding his teeth. Never unwound the bandage, working quickly to reveal black bruising running along the man’s lower rib. He applied the paste, re-bandaged Luis and helped him back down. “It won’t work fast but it’ll make a difference,” he said. “But you might hallucinate because of the stone-bulb.” “As long as it doesn’t cause more pain.” “If you stay still it shouldn’t. Just don’t chase anything you see.” Luis frowned. “This is the best medicine you could find?” “Well, we might be able to come up with something that will help with the actual healing. The paste is only for the pain.” “So long as it works.” Never paused at the tent flap. “About last night – don’t do that again, you fool.” Luis smiled despite obvious pain. “You’re welcome.” Chapter 2. “I’m going to try add some meat to that,” Never told Tsolde, once he stood before the fire again