James Barclay - Rise of the TaiGethen

The streets beyond the central rings were tight and maze-like, as if mimicking the Warren district of old Ysundeneth. Most buildings were single-storey and all were of wood construction. Most were ill maintained but here and there pockets of smart houses rested within the dilapidated mass. Takaar shook his head. It was like walking back onto Hausolis before the Garonin came, before the War of Bloods took hold.

Pelyn stopped in the centre of a muddy street that twisted away ahead of them. Beyond the houses, the beauty of the falls, heights and forests that bordered Katura was undimmed. Down here, though, smoke mixed with foul odours; children grubbed about in the dirt, and the Ixii on the street bunched together, staring at the intruders.

‘I thought you said you were still governor,’ hissed Takaar.

‘They haven’t seen me in a while,’ confessed Pelyn. ‘I doubt they trust me these days anyway.’

Pelyn was shuddering from the exertion of the run. Her face was pale and covered in sweat and she was breathing hard. She looked at Takaar and spread her hands.

‘Well, here we are, the Ixii ghetto,’ she said. ‘What now?’

A good question.

‘Simply answered. Do they have a meeting place?’

‘What for?’ asked Pelyn. ‘Katura wasn’t built for segregation. That’s just the way it’s turned out.’

‘This’ll have to do then,’ said Takaar. He began to walk towards the eight or so Ixii gathered in a doorway a few paces ahead of him. ‘Please, I would speak with you. All of you. Every decent Ixii, and your Gyalan and Orran and Cefan friends too, in time. Will you listen?’

Parents beckoned their children towards them. The atmosphere cooled and suspicion reigned. No one moved to speak to Takaar. He raised his voice, using the Il-Aryn to aid him.

‘I am Takaar and I bring you new hope,’ he said, his voice echoing from the sides of buildings and running away into the side streets. ‘Come outside. Hear me. Hear about the gift I can bestow upon you. The power to fight back against those who seek to control you. You, the Ixii, have it within you to become a new power among the elves.

‘Please, hear me. I mean you no harm.’

A child began to cry. Voices were raised behind Takaar — Tualis who could not have helped but hear him. Doors opened along the street and curious elves looked out. Seeing others already gathered, they moved to join them, the pack mentality of the threatened thread strong within them.

Takaar had been counting on that. His ears twitched. The Tuali were close. He wondered if that would work to his advantage. He waited a little longer as the Ixii continued to gather. A hundred or more were moving in his direction or standing with their thread.

‘Pelyn is here. Your governor endorses me. All I ask is that you listen.’

Takaar began to move towards them, Pelyn came with him, unwilling but compliant, her craving and his promise dominating her mind. The Ixii bunched together and moved back, but not through fear of him; Tualis were spilling into the street behind him. They were well armed and drilled. Swords and bows were evident. Presumably, many of them had once been Al-Arynaar.

‘Go back inside. This criminal is ours.’

Takaar’s eyes fell on the ula who had spoken.

‘What is his name?’ he whispered to Pelyn.

‘Calen,’ said Pelyn, and there was admiration in her voice. ‘Looks like I won’t need you for my nectar after all.’

Takaar took Pelyn’s hand. ‘Stay a while.’

Well. If you wanted an audience, you’ve certainly found it. All this time I’ve been urging you to kill yourself. Silly me. All I needed to do was wait until your ego did the job for me.

Takaar smiled. He was so close to the Ixii that he guessed the Tuali would not use their bows. They were forty strong at least, but there were a couple of hundred Ixii behind him and more were hurrying to join them.

‘Calen,’ said Takaar. ‘I’ve wanted to talk to you.’

Calen ignored him. He had a savage bearing. One ear was ripped and its tip hung out, broken. He wore dark clothes and a pale brown leather coat. His hands were latticed with scars and there was an ugly tear on his forehead.

‘Pelyn,’ he said. ‘We were worried about you. What are you doing with this coward? He abandoned you long ago. You’re with us now.’

Pelyn tensed to move and Takaar tightened his grip.

‘She’s fine right where she is. We have business with the Ixii, and then you and I must talk about the defence of Katura.’

Calen laughed. ‘The Ixii are weak and hide in their hovels while those of us who remain strong keep them safe. You talk to no one unless I say so.’

Takaar glanced over his shoulder. The Ixii stared on, most not knowing what to think.

‘Oh?’ said Takaar. ‘But Pelyn is governor of this city, is she not?’

A ripple of mirth ran through the Tualis. Takaar shook his head and turned to the Ixii.

‘Let me tell you why I am here and why you must come with me.’

‘There are ten bows trained on your back, Takaar,’ said Calen. ‘You will turn and respect me.’

‘Shoot, Calen,’ said Takaar, not turning. ‘Will they all hit me? Or will some strike Pelyn or the Ixii you say you protect. Will you stand there when they rush you to avenge a murder? Shoot.’

Calen did not give the order. Instead he called on his people to advance. Takaar smiled, continuing to ignore the Tuali and to address the Ixii. He could sense the swirling potential of the Il-Aryn in them. He had to make them feel it for themselves.

‘You will know nothing of the Il-Aryn. It is a power that runs through you, which you can harness to make you stronger. I have been studying it ever since man took our cities and I have teachers waiting to help you learn to use it. You have nothing to lose. There is a world of wonder awaiting you, should you free yourselves, and if nothing else, I am offering you a way out of the slow death you face here.’

The point of a sword pricked the back of Takaar’s neck.

‘Don’t make this difficult,’ said Calen. ‘I had to force Lysael to leave and I will do the same to you. It is over.’

Takaar dropped to his haunches, spun and stood, one hand grabbing Calen’s sword arm, the other placed over his face. Takaar fed the Il-Aryn along his arm, focusing it to a fine point and seeing, in his mind, a surging pale crescent that spun to a blur. He gave it freedom.

Fire encased Calen’s head. The Tuali screamed and clawed at Takaar’s hand, his strength already failing. The flames blackened his flesh in an instant and scored the hair from his head. His body juddered and twitched as the heat seared through his skull and into his brain. Steaming blood exploded from his eyes and mouth while his ears melted.

Takaar closed his hand, crushing Calen’s skull into fragments. His body, smoking from the neck and what remained of his head, dropped to the ground. Takaar wiped his hand on his trousers and looked at the Ixii, who, like the Tualis and Pelyn, had backed away from him.

‘Who wants to learn how to do that?’

Our research on Garan has produced startling results. The magical renewal of vital organ tissue stimulates a certain level of skin regeneration. We can, without doubt, keep a human being alive indefinitely. We must now concern ourselves with age prevention methods to make our next leap forward.

From On Immortality by Ystormun, Lord of Calaius

Even at the speed of a TaiGethen, the run to Katura took five days. The humans would be there in no more than another ten. Auum had left two cells to harry the enemy, to try to slow them just by being seen, to pick off hunters and stragglers too, but it was no more than token action.