Ian Irvine - Rebellion

Rix prepares to ride out and die. Tali begs Tobry to stop him, saying that she loves Rix, though this is a lie — she actually loves Tobry. Tobry, in despair, stops Rix.

Tali knows Lyf is coming, and Deroe too; he has been lured to the cellar by Lyf in pursuit of the master pearl. Tali plans to seize the three pearls from Deroe, but he turns the tables on her and prepares to cut out her master pearl for himself.

Lyf wakes the compulsion, using the heatstone, and forces Rix to go to the cellar to kill Tali. Rix fights the compulsion but cannot defeat it. Tobry realises what is happening and smashes the heatstone, which lets off a tremendous blast of force that knocks everyone down and frees Rix from the compulsion.

A horde of shifters attack, led by a caitsthe. The only way the allies can be saved is for Tobry to face his worst nightmare — to become a caitsthe himself. In despair at losing Tali, he does so and manages to hold the attack off.

During a battle in the cellar, Lyf’s faithful servant, Tinyhead, goes for Rix, but Wil, now hopelessly addled from sniffing the alchymical solvent alkoyl to assuage his guilt, strangles Tinyhead and flees with Lyf’s iron book.

Tali recovers and seizes the three pearls from Deroe, but Lyf breaks through and holds the lives of Rix, Tobry, Glynnie and Benn in his hands. Tali can still execute Lyf and gain justice for her mother, but only at the cost of her friends’ lives. She can’t do it. Lyf kills Deroe, seizes the three pearls to add to his own and calls his armies to attack the city.

They storm Caulderon and soon the city is doomed; Tali, Rix, Tobry, Rannilt, Glynnie and Benn are trapped in the palace. They are at the top of Rix’s tower when the chancellor appears and orders Tobry killed, because he’s a shifter. Tali realises that her own healing blood might be able to turn him back, and it seems to work. But the vengeful chancellor, who has always hated Tobry, has him cast off the tower to his death. He orders Rix’s right hand severed with Maloch, then takes Tali and Rannilt prisoner for their healing blood, and flees Caulderon.

“Lord Rixium?” Her voice was desperate. “You gotta get up now. The enemy are coming. Coming fast.”

Rix’s right wrist throbbed abominably, and so did the back of his head. He groaned, rolled over and cracked his ear on a stone edge. His cheek and chest were numb, as if he’d been lying on ice.

“What…?” he mumbled. “Where…?” His eyes were gummed shut and he didn’t want to open them. Didn’t want to see.

“Chancellor’s stolen Tali and Rannilt away, to milk their healing blood.”

He recognised her voice now. A maidservant, Glynnie.

“And Lord Tobry’s been chucked off the tower, head-first. Splat!” said a boy’s voice from behind Rix.

“Benn!” Glynnie said sharply.

Rix winced. Did he have to be so matter-of-fact about it? “Tobe was my oldest friend.”

“I’m sorry, Lord,” said Glynnie.

“How long was I out?”

“Only five minutes, but you’re first on their death list, Lord. If we don’t go now, we’re gonna die.”

“Don’t call me Lord, Glynnie.”

“Lord?”

“My parents were executed for high treason,” he said softly. “House Ricinus has fallen, the palace lies in ruins and I betrayed my own mother. I am utterly dishonoured. Don’t call me Lord!”

“R-Rixium?” She tugged at his arm, the good one.

“That’s what my murdering mother called me. Call me Rix.”

Glynnie rubbed his eyelids with her fingertips. The sticky secretions parted to reveal a slender servant girl, about seventeen years old. Tangled masses of flame-coloured hair, dark green eyes and a scatter of freckles on her nose. Rix had not yet turned twenty yet he felt a lifetime older. Foul and corrupt.

“Get up,” she said.

“Give me a minute.”

They were on the top of his tower, at the rear of what remained of Palace Ricinus. From where Rix lay he could not see over the surrounding wall — and did not want to. Did not want to see the ruin a hundred-foot fall had done his dearest friend.

A freezing wind carried the stink of burned deer meat, the forgotten skewers Glynnie had been cooking over the embers of Rix’s artist’s easel. He would never paint again. Beside the fire stood a wide-eyed boy of ten, her little brother. A metal drinking cup sat on the stone floor. Some distance away lay a bloody sword. And a small puddle of blood, already frozen over.

And a right hand, severed at the wrist.

Rix’s right hand.

Something collapsed with a thundering crash not far away, and the tower shook.

“What was that?” said Rix.

Glynnie ran to the wall, went up on tiptoes and looked over. “Enemy’s blasting down the palace towers.”

“What about Caulderon?”

Her small head turned this way and that, surveying the great city. What was left of it.

“There’s smoke and flame everywhere. Rix, they’re coming. Tell me what to do.”

“Take your brother and run for your life. Don’t look back.”

“We’ve nowhere to go, Lord.”

“Go anywhere. It’s all the same now.”

“Not for us. We served House Ricinus; we’re condemned with our house.”

“As am I,” said Rix.

“We swore to serve you. We’re not running away.”

“Lyf hates Herovians, especially me. He plans to put me to death. But he doesn’t know you exist.”

“I’m not leaving you, Lord — Rix.”

Rix did not have the strength to argue. “What about Benn? If the Cythonians find him with me, they’ll kill him too.”

“Not runnin’ either,” said Benn. “We can’t break our sworn word, Lord.”

Unlike me, Rix thought bitterly. The servants outreach the master. “Ah, my head aches.”

“That mongrel captain knocked you out,” said Glynnie. “And the chancellor — he — ” Her small jaw tightened. “He’s a useless, evil old windbag. He’s lost Caulderon and he’s going to lose the war. No one can save us now.”

“ You can, Lord,” said Benn, his eyes shining. “You can lead Hightspall to victory, I know it.”

“Hush, Benn,” said Glynnie. “Poor Rix has enough troubles as it is.”

But he could see the light in her eyes as well, her absolute belief in him. It was an impossible burden for a condemned man and he had to strike it down. Hightspall was lost; nothing could be done about it.

“Benn,” he said softly, speaking to them both. “I can’t lead anyone . The chancellor has destroyed my name and all Hightspall despises me — ”

“Not all, Rix,” said Glynnie. “Not us. We know you can — ”

“No!” he roared, trying to get up but crashing painfully onto his knees. “I don’t even believe in myself. No army would follow me.”

Benn’s face crumpled. “But, Lord — ”

“Shh, Benn,” said Glynnie hastily. “Let me help you up, Lord.”

She was stronger than she looked, but Rix was a huge man and it was a struggle for her to raise him to his feet. The moment he stood upright it felt as though his head was going to crack open. Through a haze of pain and dizziness he heard someone shouting orders.

“Search the rear towers next.” The man had a heavy Cythonian accent.

“Where are we going, Rix?” said Glynnie.

He swayed, his wrist throbbing. She steadied him.

“Don’t know.” He looked around. “I need Maloch. It’s enchanted to protect me.”

That was ironic. A command spell cast on Rix when he was a boy of ten had left him with a deep-seated fear of magery, and recent events had proven his fear to be justified.