Voidstone

Voidstone

By CT Remchin

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2017 CT Remchin

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千里之行，始于足下。

End as the Beginning

[1] Finders Keepers

[2] Waylaid

[3] Full Moon

[4] Prospects

[5] Right of Passage

[6] Searching

[7] Losers Weepers

[8] Entanglements

[9] Things Natures

[10] Raid

[11] Resolution

[12] All This Time

[13] The Lands

[14] After This...

[15] Fabricating History

Beginning as the End

End as the Beginning

A brilliant mauve sky arced overhead, hemmed in at the bottom by a distant circle of gleaming creamy colonnades. An afternoon-thin crescent moon reclined faintly across from the blinding golden sun, and the gentle crunch of feet on distant gravel paths punctuated the warm soft air like shallow breaths. A wisp of a breeze fluttered here and there, and from indistinguishable directions came the chuckle of flowing water.

Under the vivid loft an equally striking green garden of perfect, achingly delicate grass stretched for at least ten minutes' walk in all directions. It was dotted with bushes and trees in spacious groves, and criss-crossed by several white stone paths that converged on a wide circular path around the middle of the lawn. The plain grassy area inside this circle was pinned at its centre by a smooth white stone dais that emerged from the soft lawn looking like exactly what it was – the wide end of a tall, thin cone stuck deep into the ground by its sharp end. The flat top of the dais was waist-high and wide enough that two people together could not quite join hands around it. Into the flat top was cut a deep semicircular depression like a bowl, immaculately clean and starkly empty. Next to it in a shallow, long-worn crater in the earth, sat a bright white and similarly smooth stone ball, pristine and gleaming in the bright sunshine, like a full moon fallen to the ground.

A step or two away from both pieces and equally distant from each knelt a silver-haired woman, her deep green eyes gazing with an amused glint between the two objects. She was golden-skinned and wearing a pale grey student's robe as innocuous as it was shapeless, but the long silver curls draped carelessly over shoulders were not a particularly studious look. She was humming quietly to herself, her voice smoother and fuller than her obviously old age might suggest, as her amusement turned to concentration. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and reached out with both hands towards the large stone ball, moving her fingers as if trying to find weak points in some invisible barrier.

The air around her shimmered in response to her song, and from her hands and face reached out an iridescent sheen to cover the ball, surrounding it even through the ground beneath. Her voice rose louder and the simple hum became syllables; bold, brash consonants that shook the air around her, and vowels that made everything nearby blur at the edges. Her coruscating aura flashed and flowed with the dissonant and seemingly random song, and her brow creased with a well-worn frown of effort. She added more syllables to the pattern, and raised her voice louder – the emanation responded dramatically, showering sparks of something like liquid light. As it sprayed out and was immediately sucked back, it boiled in every direction and just about held together, while a sickly-sweet smell began to fill the air.

The ball shook gently, and lifted off the grass it was sitting on, revealing a shallow black indentation of bare earth beneath. It rose, trembling, till the aura covering it below became fully visible. But flashes of red, black and purple began to suffuse the glow, and the woman’s frown of concentration suddenly became a surprised grimace of pain; her nose wrinkled and her closed eyes squinted tight. Blood began to seep from the corners of her eyes, then her mouth twisted and contorted and finally fell open as she cried out. The sheen of light that covered both her and the ball flickered darkly then burst like a bubble.

Evanescent, fading droplets exploded with a flash in all directions, quickly curving back and splashing insubstantially onto the woman's robes and skin, leaving no marks. The stone fell instantly back into its crater and the thud of the landing could be felt all the way to the edges of the wide cloistered lawn. Heads turned, looking for the source of the shock, but only two people looked the right way quickly enough to see the old lady pitch forward and land, first on her own limp arms and then on her slack, lifeless face.

Her head bounced on the lawn and she was still, blood like tears already drying on her cheeks. From inside her robe slipped an oddly dull black pendant on a shiny black chain; hardly visible in the sunshine, the aenimus ebbing from her still body was drawn towards the pendant and seemingly inside it. Her face however, looked oddly relieved – less aged than it had a few moments before.

The two who saw her fall reached her seconds later. They also wore pale, shapeless robes, and both were dark skinned with cropped black hair. The man was tall and thin and his shimmering blue eyes were wide with alarm; the woman was shorter but just as slender and she was wearing an oily-glistening metal circlet around her head. Her green opalescent eyes flashed with concern, and as she reached the prone woman she knelt by her head and placed both hands gently and carefully to feel for a pulse. At first, she didn't notice the pendant, but at one point her fingers brushed the stone and her whole body appeared to flicker in the daylight. She gasped and jumped up, frowning to the man intensely and pointing at the black object she could see lying on the ground beneath the prone woman's chin.

''What's that?'' she breathed, shocked.

The man squinted to where she was pointing and shrugged. Then he knelt quickly down and reached for the pendant, hooking the chain with a finger. He shook his head. ''Ugly piece of jewellery, and it – feels strange. Makes my eyes swim to look at it!'' He pushed the object back inside the woman's robe, then heaved her over onto her back, straightening her legs and laying her arms flat beside her. He stood up again and shook his head sadly. ''She's definitely gone, hasn't she?''

The woman nodded slowly, and knelt back down to hold the woman's head for a few seconds, with the balls of her thumbs in the eyes and her hands down each side of the face. She chanted a short and simple song, but stopped suddenly and frowned, standing back up and shaking her head in disbelief. ''She's gone – every trace – already. Very strange.'' She sighed and pursed her lips thoughtfully, then added, ''What was her name – did you know her?''

The man shrugged. ''No, I'm afraid not. I've seen her here every day for as long as I can remember but – I've never spoken to her—'' he tailed off, feeling a sudden primal guilt that the closest he'd ever got to this person was checking if she was dead.

''I've seen her here, too'' the woman replied sombrely, ''I always assumed she was meditating. What was that shock, that thump? Was it from her?''

By this time a few more people had arrived, having finally noticed the figure lying on the ground and the two standing over her. One man with earth-dark skin, not quite middle-aged but with short greying hair and dark eyes that glistened with a golden sheen, gasped and crouched down by the dead woman's head, cradling it gently and stroking her forehead with a shaking finger.

''Saiyali! Oh my dear, what have you done?'' he sobbed, as tears began to trickle down his face and drip onto the dead woman's, coursing across her sagging cheeks and dissolving some of the blood there.

''You know her, Min'Ombeitra?'' asked the woman with the circlet, who had first discovered she was dead.

The grief-stricken man nodded, which caused a dripping flurry of tears. He self-consciously reached up with one arm to wipe his face with a sleeve of his robe, which was dark grey and finer than the pale robe the dead woman was wearing. ''Her name's – was – Saiyali Ambon. She's a Noviate here – but she should be a paragon! Should've been, agh—'' He broke off with a sad shake of his head, then went on, ''She's my colleague – my friend – was – my dear—'' He waved a hand towards the pair of gleaming white stones that sat impassively nearby.

The circleted woman looked quizzical and asked rather officiously, ''What was she doing here? Was she studying the Proving?''

Ombeitra shook his head, and sniffed, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat. ''She was registered at my library, Ma'Kerishni – Central Library of the Ancients.'' Kerishni nodded understandingly, and Ombeitra went on, ''She was quite convinced she could – persuade—'' he sighed, ''—she was sure she could persuade it up, and into the bowl.'' A few others had gathered by now, and they listened attentively, tragically respectful as Ombeitra went on speaking and absently stroking Saiyali's silver hair as if consoling a friend in despair or a sick child. ''I kept telling her, it didn't matter what aenimus she could make, a ball of rock still weighs what it weighs! Ah my dear old friend, perhaps you weren't so wrong after all—'' His voice broke off sadly, and with an impotent growl he clenched eyes shut. Now the onlookers began to fidget and look down uncomfortably, realising that they weren't going to share his grief because they didn't know this woman at all.

The circleted woman nodded understandingly and asked, ''Well look – is there anything I can do, Ombeitra?''

The man in green shook his head weakly and answered, ''Only one thing, Ma'Kerishni – would you ask the Ground keepers to come, to help me take her to her apartment?''

Kerishni nodded, ''I will. I'll do it right now, and—'' she glanced about pointedly at the other people standing there and nodded inclusively, ''—and I think we might all leave Min'Ombeitra in peace and quiet?''

There were nods of relief and assent, and the small crowd dispersed in silence; Ombeitra barely noticed them leave. He had begun gently humming a sombre melody, as he recalled to mind what Saiyali had revealed about herself over the years. The process of song-making would take him several days, but Ombeitra had known Saiyali Ambon for most of his life, and he was determined to do her proper justice at her Last Dedication.

However, long before Ombeitra had a chance to sing her song and tell the world one last time who she was, word of her death began spreading quickly; quite apart from anything else, people didn't die in the Proving Ground every day. A rumour grew that she had in fact lifted the Ball off the ground with only aenimus, and that she'd done it by using a voidstone – and as an old family name Nashivaar emerged, whispers were heard that she had even been a Shadow Sister. Others claimed she was an undercover Lightworker – but nobody ever produced any proof of either claim, and the gossips went unsatisfied.

She was certainly dead though, and there was nobody to answer for her. Her Marathy name Ambon was unknown, while the Nashivaar family were already extinct, having been one of the first targets of the Lightworkers when they'd exploded in Obsidian City a generation before. What happened to the Nashivaari during the days commonly known as The Cleansing, also happened to hundreds of other families from dozens of wealthy clans – and the city's streets had literally run with the blood of its deposed rulers.

It appeared – perhaps because of her adoption of a new family name, Ngyakiya – that Saiyali had been absent from the wrong lists at the right time. Later, when things had calmed down, she'd left the city quietly and travelled to Holy City to take up study at the Central Library of the Ancients. After registering in her Marathy name, she had for years kept herself to herself and devoted her time to study and historical research.

And it was as Saiyali Ambon that she was cremated four days later, her ashes according to tradition scattered in the wide Tzomzi river. Her Last Dedication was packed out with curious onlookers, and there was no way of telling who was a friend and who had simply heard one rumour or another. Min'Ombeitra lit her fire and sang her songs, but he only recognized one or two people in the crowds. It was clear that many were attending with a breathless sense that Someone Important had gone and they had nearly missed it.

When he had finished singing and speaking the words to express Saiyali's long and eventful life, Ombeitra gazed over the throng of strangers gathered around the Last Gate, as the long cremation beach was known. He shrugged to himself, shaking his head disappointedly. Just gossips and blatherers really, making sure the last Nashivaar is really dead—

[1] Finders Keepers

A low silvery sun glinted on the waves lapping the end of a tall stone jetty, which curved into the sea like a graceful protecting hand. The reek of seaweed and stale fish mixed with tar and salty wood on the chilly morning breeze. Hundreds of birds wheeled and cried overhead, and the sound echoed absently from the sheer faces of dark imposing cliffs, which towered high over the entrance to the western reach of the Bay of Jewels.

The sea was a cold green-grey in the barely woken day. The sky was not yet bright enough to blue the water, and the mighty cliffs that reached up to block half the horizon always lent extra gloom to the sea, whatever mood it was in. Dark and windswept was how many would describe Jade City; Forbidding, imposing, it had often been called; striking, perhaps even unique – but never, not in its whole long history, had it been described in any written records as beautiful.

Above the cold, unwelcoming water rose large broken black boulders in spreading piles, at the feet of craggy heights that leapt up steep and jagged, like a curse from the earth at the sky. The very easternmost peak was the western Pillar of The Gods, one of a pair of soaring, unscalable pinnacles of rock that rose high above the strait between; their name had long outlasted the gods they'd been named for.

Below the rugged mountains just inside the Westernmost curve of the Bay, nestled under a huge rocky overhang directly above the sea, a vast cave opened and spread westwards into the rugged hills that buttressed the high precipices above. The Bay curved west then north, and a well-maintained road ran with it along the coast for as far as the eye could see. Farming settlements dotted the land down from the western hills, but closer to the massive cavern at the head of the bay where the dwellings stood closer together, began the outer sectors of Jade City. The tiered suburbs rising up the steep mountain slopes had grown over ages, slowly from the city’s heart, deep inside the great overhang of rock.

It was said to be the oldest inhabited city anywhere, and while the name Jade City was relatively new – appearing with the construction of the Jade Keep at the open end of the cavern some 3000 years before – there had been a settlement in the hollows under these peaks for as long as anybody could tell. Even in the oldest stories, legends and myths, the cave where Jade City now clung above the dark inhospitable water appeared repeatedly, and was always treated as somewhere ancient and important.

The jetty stood as the easternmost piece of city construction, and it protected the city's so-called Underdock from the worst of the winds and waves that blew in through the straits. At its seaward end was a squat podium where a wide, bright blue gas flame burned permanently in a polished glass box, as a guide for anyone entering or leaving the port. This morning, a solitary figure was standing next to this great light, watching a large ship with striking red and black sails heaving to against the wind and preparing to berth. The figure stood wrapped against the early chill in a long, dark red cape – as a second person, a man, appeared walking purposefully along the jetty.

The caped figure pulled down its hood to reveal a young woman's broad, dark face. Her close-cropped hair was dyed gold, and she wore a number of red-jewelled studs along the length of both ears. Her quick black eyes glimmered dark blue and she smiled with respect and pleasure as the man strode towards her, his face lighting happily as he approached. His eyes shimmered the same dark blue, his face was wrinkled but broad and dark like hers, and he had a neatly trimmed and plaited beard and moustache. His hair was piled up and wrapped in a headscarf of the same dark green as the cloak that flicked and tossed behind him as he strode.

The woman spoke first, laughing the words out. ''Uncle! Here you are!''

He held up his arms in a sincere but distant embrace, and hurried the last few steps to make it into a real one. As they parted he answered kindly, a glint in his eye and a smile of genuine happiness on his handsome, well-groomed face, ''Suriya my dear, I'm delighted! You did come!''

Suriya frowned, shrugged her arms up and gave an irritated grunt. ''Huh! I'm pleased you're actually here too, Uncle Benessi – I really thought it was a joke! What in seas and skies drove you to ask me all the way out here first thing in the morning?''

A gust of wind brought shouts from the passing ship's crew, and a burst of birds' cries swept overhead and away again. Both the people standing on the jetty looked around once again as if checking they were still alone. Benessi grinned and held out both arms dramatically. His long, baggy sleeves flapped in the breeze and he chuckled, ''Tell me, whom can you see out here with us, my beloved niece?''

Suriya looked around melodramatically at the vast expanses of rippling water and cloud-flecked turquoise sky, and up across the towering dark cliffs. ''Don't be silly, uncle – there's nobody here except for us!''

He nodded with satisfaction and answered matter-of-factly, ''Exactly!'' as if this were explanation enough.

It wasn't; Suriya shook her head and snorted, ''But why, Uncle? We live in the Jade Keep – surely there's a room somewhere in there that we could have met in! It's the safest place in the world, everybody knows!''

Benessi nodded in frank agreement. ''Yes – for keeping things in, there's nowhere safer – nor will there ever be, I suspect. But storing things isn't the same as talking! If there are ears to hear or eyes to watch, they can use them to listen, to monitor, to spy – believe me—'' he tailed off, glancing about once again as if to make sure he really was at the end of the Jetty Wall and there really was nobody listening. He shook his head sadly and reiterated, ''Any ears, any eyes—''

Suriya frowned, genuine concern in her eyes. ''Who? Who can listen with any ears? Are you alright, Uncle Bene?''

Benessi's headshake intensified, and he looked annoyed for a moment. ''I'm fine, girl! It's the Undying! They can hear us—''

Suriya was shaking her head sceptically and she made an irritated tsk tsk, ''Uncle, stop it – you brought me out here first thing in the morning for this?''

Benessi was still shaking his head, but he held up both hands in a gesture of conciliation. ''I'm sorry – sorry. I just – I need to make sure nobody hears what I want to tell you—'' He paused and raised a brow to her questioningly.

A look of surprise appeared on Suriya's face. ''Secrets, Uncle? Really now!'' The surprise dissolved into a delighted grin, and for a moment she looked less like the half asleep and slightly annoyed woman she was, than an excited little girl.

He chuckled, amused and charmed by her glee, and nodded. ''Yes, Suriya, secrets! So let me finish before you make any assumptions! This might seem like a job anyone could do, but it is most certainly not – it requires someone qualified to present documents and if necessary speak with authority to Counsellors—'' he raised a brow meaningfully, ''—but as well as that it must be someone I actually trust – which means you're the only person I can really ask.'' He gave a helpless smile, and shrugged. Suriya chuckled, and listened intently as occasional gusts blew his words away. ''News came last night from Holy City, that a woman has just died there who had something belonging to our family – a stone. I want you to go there, with all the right paperwork to claim this item – and return it here, where it will be safe!''

Suriya's eyes narrowed and she regarded him with concerned curiosity. ''A stone?''

Benessi nodded. ''A stone. Stolen from our family a very long time ago. It belongs here.''

Suriya raised a sceptical brow, ''Now Uncle, be honest. Is this legal? I've told you before, I have my licences to consider – I can't get caught up in anything criminal – or even dubious!''

Benessi laughed and shook his head, ''Suriya, please! The paperwork will be immaculate—'' Suriya frowned at him but said nothing as he went on, ''—as well as completely legal. I assure you!'' He was looking deep into her eyes and she didn't sense duplicity – though she felt something wasn't exactly right.

She sighed, more in resignation than relief, and replied, ''Very well, Uncle – what is it you want me to go and get?''

Benessi nodded and smiled confidentially. ''Suriya – what do you know about voidstones?''

* * *

From a window high in one of the Seaward apartment buildings that overlooked the Underdock, a pair of dark green eyes stared fixedly out along the Jetty Wall at the pair deep in conversation there, and narrowed in concentration.

The glass in the long, narrow windows cut out all sound and smell, and the scene far below – ship and dock crews shouting, birds shrieking, workshops scorching, melting, smoking, hammering, creaking, hissing and rattling – could be seen quite clearly, but it was accompanied by the crackle and sour reek of a newly-lit peat fire and a soft thump of a book being placed gently on a table.

A woman's voice sighed impatiently.

The young man at the window frowned, twisting his mouth doubtfully. His skin was the colour of dark wood, he was wearing a long indigo servants' shirt and simple black trousers, and on his feet he wore soft black slippers that shimmered a little in the shadow under the windowsill.

What do you think they're talking about down there, Ma'Hanne?'' he asked, attempting a casual tone but not fooling the woman sitting behind him, who was looking over at him with an irritated expression on her face.

She wore a robe, fastened at the ankles and dark blue like the young man’s shirt, as well as the same kind of black slippers. She had a large, iridescent gold stud in one side of her nose, and several gold rings down each ear. She was bald, and intricate golden spiral tattoos of many shapes and sizes were interlinked across her head, neck and face, accenting her facial features strikingly and appearing to continue inside her robe. Her skin was very dark, a noble blue-black; it was smooth, waxy and without pores. As she spoke, the surface of her face stretched to allow her mouth to open, smile, call out – her forehead might crease in a frown – but in the end, at rest, it always returned to perfect smoothness, like the glossy, waxy face of a doll. Her eyes were off-white, with a soft internal glow and slight iridescence. She was smirking as she spoke, and her highborn accent made her sound naturally sarcastic. ''Who, Semek? The deck hands and dockers?'' She thought to herself, Now he's got my attention, let's see how long he can keep it—

The young man shook his head and frowned, unable to contain the exasperation in his voice as he replied, ''No, Ma'Hanne – Benessi Selenke and his niece the lawyer. You have seen them all the way out there, haven't you? Talking together in full view, where nobody can actually hear them.'' He snorted derisively and added, ''But where everyone can see them! He obviously wants us all to know he's up to something!''

Hanne chuckled, ''Semek, of course he's up to something! This is Jade City – everybody here is up to something!'' She began laughing, ''Hanging on to a cliff over the ocean, looking at the most boring view in the Empire, where everything costs a fortune because almost nothing grows here? Who would even stay, if they weren't up to something?''

Semek looked hurt, but Hanne was enjoying herself. ''This place will take anyone who can bring in money, these days – they can't afford to ask questions because if the cashflow dried up, everyone 'd starve!''

Semek shook his head thoughtfully. ''We used to grow a lot of food here, I learned all about it during my schooling. We used to farm fish – that's even still listed in the Jade Trades.

She shrugged dismissively. ''Jade Trades indeed. Nothing like fishing now though is it, eh?'' she was grinning conspiratorially. ''Like them – Benessi and his niece there – they're probably fishing for something.'' She waved a hand, and added, ''But whatever it is, if they're talking about it where the whole city can see them, I wouldn't expect it's something they'll actually do here. In that case I do think they'd be a bit more private about it—''

''Well – that was my question, I suppose.'' Said Semek a little defensively. ''What do you think they're planning?''

Hanne frowned and made a thoughtful Hmm then answered, ''I'm tempted to say who cares – but I shan't scorn you any more this morning; I don't want to spoil you for later—'' she winked at him. ''—So I think instead I'll ask you what you think they're planning – since it's clearly playing so strongly on your mind.''

Semek shrugged, looked down thoughtfully, then nodded and looked at Hanne, quickly glancing out of the window as if to make sure the distant, glass-muted conspirators couldn't hear him speaking. ''I think he's going to send her to Obsidian City to negotiate with the Lightworkers. She's a known sympathiser, that niece of his. I think he'd like to make a deal with them. Let's see – water maybe? Possibly mining rights? Who knows, but from what I've heard he wouldn't be the first to try.''

Hanne chuckled. ''Obsidian City eh? Have they finally stopped killing each other, then?'' Semek shrugged as she added archly, ''No way would Benessi Selenke risk sending any of his family there; from what I've heard, Selenkesi are still at the top of the Lightworkers' love lists. According to my reports, things haven’t changed that much in a decade or more – everything still under restrictions and the new dedications still being enforced. People still afraid to form new Connectives because they keep getting sanctioned for promoting elitism or negativity. Not an ideal scenario for a Selenke – or any Great Family, really.''

Semek nodded in agreement. ''Fine, then – She's being sent to Gold City. Not hard to work out what she'd be doing there, at least. What everybody does there! Buy gold!''

Hanne frowned and shook her head. ''In that case, why send a personal lawyer? Anybody could go and do that, wouldn't you say? Also, it's common knowledge that he sends a wagon there every week – so why have a pretend-clandestine meeting about it first thing in the morning?''

Semek laughed, ''All true – so perhaps he's embarked on a new venture with them, or he wants to change a deal he's got with somebody there.''

Hanne shrugged and answered drily, ''Well yes that's all very plausible, but hardly the stuff of intrigue. We might as well imagine that she's going to Ruby City, or Opal City – but again, why? It would need to be fantastically dull, since there's nothing important he could need from them or anyone in them. All the treasures in the Bay of Jewels are already here in Jade City – and he already has the keys to those!''

Semek chuckled back, nodding in agreement as he stared back out of the window. ''Then perhaps he's going to send her to Holy City for some reason. But do you have any idea why he'd do that? What would Benessi Selenke want there? He's no fan of the Great Endeavour and its taxes – and I don't even remember the last time there was an Empirial Visit to Jade City.'' He snorted sardonically and added, ''In fact he'd probably take us out of the Empire completely, if he thought he could manage it.''

Hanne glanced sharply up as if surprised by the insight. and nodded thoughtfully as she replied, ''Indeed. But perhaps he does have business there – or, perhaps you were on the right track when you suggested he might want to begin talking to the lightworkers. On reflection, that doesn't seem as unlikely as I first thought. It would serve Jade City very well indeed to be fully connected once again with Obsidian City—'' Her voice tailed off and she nodded for a while longer, her reflective frown creasing her perfect brow; then it was gone. Her eyes refocussed and she regarded Semek with a stern, questioning expression. ''Now, enough blathering and on with something important. Tell me about the new dig sites.''

* * *

Suriya stared from the glazed windows of her express wagon, watching the distant hills slip moodily by. Her stomach growled and she sighed. She'd left the city quickly, without eating breakfast, and by this time in the afternoon she was beginning to feel properly hungry. The feeling had gradually become more than a niggling annoyance in her belly, and she was planning how to get hold of something to eat when they changed runners at a roadhouse. She glanced back at the papers on the seat next to her and sighed, shaking her head and pushing them away. Too hungry to concentrate any more! she thought angrily, and gazed back out of the window.

She had been examining the documents all morning, and her distracted mind wandered over what she had read so far. The file she had been given included extensive notes on the voidstone, compiled from a number of sources, and they contained much she had never even heard about before. The stone was described as being clasped in a pendant of black metal shaped like a hand, which had apparently originated in Jade City – though where the stone itself came from was shrouded in obscurity. Some people claimed it originated in Marathy, but Suriya felt sure from her own studies of that strange and backward land that the voidstone could not possibly be from there, otherwise she would certainly have heard about it before.

Ultimately, Marash seemed the more likely origin – however, even though this idea was supported by one or two sources, they were ancient and mythical, and frustratingly inconclusive. Indeed, very little about the stone or stones was known for certain; even the material was unclassified – it was simply referred to as voidstone wherever it was mentioned – and although it was said to be powerful, the exact nature of the power remained unclear. From what Suriya had read in the folder, the available information on the stone's provenance – rather like information on Marash itself – amounted to little more than speculation. More recently, it was known to have been mounted in the Rod of Office of the Caretaker of the City; at one time all three of the Bay Cities' Caretakers held such a symbol of rank, but one by one they had disappeared, assumed stolen. One was rumoured to be in the possession of the Sisterhood of Shadows, another was rumoured to be held at the Empirial Inner Shrine. The Undying Connective were said to have their own, and many believed this was how they maintained their powers.

Much of the information amounted to not much more than rumour and gossip, and nothing certain was known – but now, suddenly, a real one had appeared in the Worldly Possessions of an old woman named Saiyali, once of the Nashivaari of Obsidian City – a family closely-linked to prominent families of the Lenkesi over many generations. The voidstone's exact whereabouts were yet to be confirmed, but it wasn't hard to guess that since this Saiyali had no family, her Worldly Possessions would most likely be held by the Law Counsel of Holy City, pending their assessments of her property and papers. While it was being held there, anyone able to present legitimate proof that any of the deceased's possessions belonged to them, could do so; if the proof was acceptable, the property would be handed over.

And now it appeared the dead woman did in fact have some family connections; at least, for the purposes of inheritance. Another, thicker bundle of papers Suriya was carrying not only listed and ratified a long history of partnerships and legal bonds between the Nashivaar and Selenke families, but also proved that this item had once been the official property of the Caretaker of Jade City. It also documented in detail that the last active Caretaker had been Aralla Yelenke, and that after the Empire's Foundation, the stone had been designated a permanent keepsake of the Jade Citadel. As the senior member of the Lenkesi, as well as Jade Citadel's current Chief Counsellor of Keys, Benessi Selenke claimed legal and ancestral rights to possess the Voidstone.

Everything was correctly stamped, signed and properly sealed where necessary, by what appeared to be several of the most powerful matriarchs and patriarchs in the Bay cities; the claim was underwritten by a list of clerics so long that Suriya didn't even bother to read it all. The whole bundle looked real and convincing but on reflection, something about her uncle's nervousness was making her doubt that everything was completely above board.

She yawned, and her empty belly growled again.

Shouts from ahead indicated an imminent stop, and Suriya grabbed her bag excitedly, closed the folder and shoved it inside, preparing to open the door as soon as the coach came to a standstill. She flung the door out as the vehicle's movement ceased, yelled, ''Just getting food, I'll be quick!'' and scrambled across the gravelly yard into the squat, rambling, grey stone roadhouse at one edge. It was so worn by the winds that blew across this bleak western end of the bay, that it looked not so much constructed as carefully excreted in a line.

A few minutes later she was back with a small bundle that she unwrapped as the coach began rolling onwards and picking up speed with its fresh new runners. She imagined they might also be running fast just to get away from that desolate and dreary place. Inside the paper roll was some cheap and chewy bread wrapped around meat of dubious nature, that cost more than it should have for what it was – whatever it in fact was – and a clay bottle of sweetened fruit water that was the only reclosable drink they sold. It tasted stale and she didn't like not being able to see it.

''Another three bloody days of this,'' she muttered to herself in irritation as she pulled open the narrow window above her couch to let fresh air roll in. She sighed; this whole situation bothered her, the wretched food and drink was just adding insult to injury.

''He's gone mad—'' she grunted between grimacing bites and sips, ''—totally mad.''

It was quite clear to her that something about this stone had affected her uncle's mind – but what that was, she couldn't imagine. He's usually so level headed! But now, he was ranting about being scanned by hidden ears and eyes; Iron City, Sapphire City and the return of Tuuria. What could possibly make him think it was a good idea to send her to Holy City in an express coach to steal – Suriya really couldn't think of a more honest word for it – to steal some dead woman's jewellery? She'd been surprised before at how stupidly people could act over valuable things, and this was more than simply a valuable thing – if what she had been reding was true. What she was going to do might be legal, technically – but it was taking advantage of loopholes, at best. At worst, most of the signatures and seals were forged; Suriya quickly tried to dismiss that idea as paranoia.

Surely not! Surely there's no way he's still that bad—

Suriya had been Benessi's legal assistant – one of a pair – since she'd finished her training at Jade City's Law Counsel. As his niece, she also found herself the one occasionally entrusted with more personal matters; once, he'd asked he to forge a seal on a document and she'd done it very much under protest. Since then he'd never asked her to do anything