David Mcintee - The Light of Heaven

"Aw crap," Crowe muttered. "The bridge. Those things we met at the Isle of the Star, they knew in advance what was going to happen! Like, it was a regular thing…

"And if this place is the same."

"And it is."

"Because that would mean Kesar knows about the regular thing, yet no-one else had ever heard of it." Her voice faltered, and he knew she was beginning to get an inkling of what he was trying to get her to see.

"You told me yourself," Crowe said, "the higher you rise in the ranks of the Final Faith, the more access you get to ancient knowledge, to records written by Faith scholars over the centuries. The average person doesn't really believe that goblins really exist, but every member of the Swords knows about them. I doubt you know the complexities of the Faith's accounts as well as Eminence Kesar does, in his role as Treasurer, right? And I'd be willing to bet that somewhere in Scholten, somebody — maybe Makennon, maybe an Eminence, I don't know — that somebody knew what the Isle of the Star was, and knew what Freedom Point was, and damn well knew what was going to happen and when!"

"Right… So?"

"Joachim Foll takes a pot-shot at Rhodon and all bloody hell breaks loose. Kell and his mates in the Brotherhood are on the run, but where do they run to? Luckily Kell has a hideaway, in the form of a fancy glass mountain, out where no humans live…"

"Freedom."

"So the word spreads, the sinners and the heretics and the Brotherhood all make a bee-line for this fabulous new gaff, right? The goblins would make mincemeat of these no-hopers, but there are some good magicians in the Brotherhood. So the way is cleared out for everyone to come here."

"And in a place where they can all burn together." A chill ran down Gabriella's spine. "Only the Brothers and sinners and heretics who need to be cleansed didn't come alone. They brought their friends and families and lovers. People who have committed no heresy. All to burn together."

"If you're going to celebrate, I want nothing to do with it."

"The deaths of innocents are never a cause for celebration. Never." She shook her head. "But Kell has been sending people here for months, via the Golden Huntress…"

"He's had two years to get this place up and running."

"But how did he find out about it in the first place?"

He took several deep breaths. "Why don't we go and ask him? Where do we find a way in?"

"From the Brotherhood, of course."

The Brotherhood were everywhere in Freedom. While the women cooked and tended children and danced, the men were drilling. It wasn't just the mercenaries, either. Groups of civilian men were being enticed to join in. There was a literal series of levels to their drills, with men and boys in casual clothing trying out simple exercises on lower terraces, rising up to men in uniform leather jerkins practicing with weapons on the higher terraces.

Crowe tried out a couple of the regimes and found it was handy for getting warmed up; he has spent too long in the saddle over the past couple of weeks and some muscles were feeling the worse for wear.

This gave him the chance to listen to what the men in training were saying. Most of them chatted about girls and booze and friends or family they had left behind, but some were too proud of their achievements here to keep their mouths shut. Soon, a well-trained man in a red robe came by the terrace on which Crowe was practicing with a short staff. The man had a Brotherhood tattoo on his forehead, of all places. Crowe could hardly believe it; the bloke obviously didn't get the secret part of a secret society.

A more disturbing thought occurred to him; perhaps the Brotherhood wanted to be less secret, impossible though it seemed. He gave the man a friendly nod. Then he spotted Gabriella beckoning for him to come over.

Goran Kell walked down the steps of the Glass Mountain, enjoying the sight spread out before him. Four men in red robes, all with Brotherhood tattoos on their foreheads, flanked him, though he was confident he didn't need them.

Chaga, on the other hand, he did need, but Chaga had never returned from Andon. Kell could guess what had happened and, for one of the few times in his life, felt a pang of sadness.

He continued on, looking over the terraces. There were plenty of pretty girls to amuse him, but for now he was more interested in the men who were being trained.

"How are they progressing?" he asked the robed man to his left.

"Quite well, considering. The Dreamweed makes them open to suggestion and the lifestyle makes them fit. They'll make good soldiers."

"They'd better." He smiled to himself. Freedom, what a joke. "There's a new Brotherhood coming and they'll spearhead it."

Gabriella wasn't crazy, of course, despite that being Crowe's first thought when she expressed an intent to get the Brotherhood to give her Kell. She wasn't mad enough to try making one of the men around here confess. She simply picked one to follow.

They persued their chosen guide to a tunnel entrance and then walked on past it, as if they weren't interested in it.

"Aren't we going up?"

"Not like this," Gabriella said. She darted into a tent belonging, if the washing hung outside of it was anything to go by, to a very showy woman. She dragged Crowe into a corner and applied the makeup she had stolen to his bicep. It was an excellent imitation of a Brotherhood tattoo. She also blackened her own hair, and made a smudge on her chin that, from a distance, could be taken for a scar like the one Kannis had.

"You're missing your calling Dez," he whispered. "They could really use someone with your talent in the theatre."

"One more word and I'll make yours a nice big target. Or a Faith symbol."

"The day I wear a Faith symbol is the day I'll die. Of shame," he added pointedly.

The interior of the Glass Mountain was surprisingly bright. Gabriella had expected to have to sneak through dark, dank, tunnels, using the touch of her hands and feet on the rock to guide her round corners or up stairs.

The bright and airy walkways, glowing with pearlescent warmth, were the last thing she expected. Crowe seemed equally surprised.

"Wasn't the Isle like this?" Gabriella asked.

"I've no idea. We never went inside it."

There were plenty of people around, mostly men but nobody questioned their right to be there. Many rooms in the complex appeared marbled and seemed to be used mostly as meeting points, with no furnishings. Other rooms held dining equipment, or shelves of objets d'art, or beds. It was truly a palace and Gabriella wished she could take the time to explore more of it.

After a couple of hours they had found no sign of Kell, but Gabriella had identified the limits of what she suspected to be a private set of apartments.

"How are your lock-picking skills?" she asked.

"Bloody fantastic if I do say so myself."

"Good." She glanced around to be sure no-one was passing this junction and tapped a narrow doorway. "Open this."

It took a matter of seconds and then they were through into a well-appointed hallway. Two doors opened on to a store room and a small bedroom. A third opened into an office. Crowe was at the desk immediately, opening the drawers.

He brought out two leather-bound tomes and looked at them as though astonished.

"Something wrong?" Gabriella said.

"I've seen these before. They're Margrave's day books from the Belle . I imagine the logs of the Vigilant must be around here somewhere too. It obviously survived my attempt to destroy her."

Gabriella picked up first one logbook, then the other. There was a crossed-circle stamp on each one. "These are from a Faith Archive…"

A loose page fell out from near the middle and she picked it up. It turned out not to be a page from the book, but a note from a Confessor. 'Taken from customs agent, deliver to Scholten, most urgent.' The date was two years old.