"I've got my papers right here," said Drassia, reaching into her robe for the papers Rawal had given her.
As soon as they were visible, the Shaper soldier in command of the small squadron accosting Drassia snatched them out of her hands. He looked at them and nodded. "Signed by Rawal. Those won't get you far." He handed them back. The other soldiers lowered their batons, which was quite a relief to Drassia, as they had all been pointed at her. "General Alwan is accepting passes from all provinces right now, but that could change any day. If I were you, I'd get a better pass." He gave the dead servile on the ground one last kick before he and his soldiers loped off to the east. Drassia watched as they went.
She had just entered the Storm Plains, the province just south of the Mera-Tev, from Kratoa-Kel. The soldiers had just killed a rebel servile when she'd encountered them, and they had instantly turned their weapons on her when they'd seen her. Some of them looked like they had itchy trigger fingers.
Most of the Storm Plains hadn't been touched by the war. The Shapers had managed to stop the rebel forces by erecting three fortresses in the mountain range to Drassia's east, one of which the soldiers were going back to. While the Storm Plains did occasionally have hurricanes and tornadoes, they got their name from the fierce tribes that had been there. The Shapers had been fiercer.
Drassia looked at her map. She was northeast of Perikalia, the next place Rawal wanted her to go. It looked like she could go south, through a ruined town called Hatra, then west to get to Perikalia. She looked toward the south and saw some stone buildings. Looking at the map once more to make sure she had the route down, she stuffed it back into her pack and headed for Perikalia.
Perikalia was the largest city in the Storm Plains. The western part of the city was centuries old, predating the conquest of the Storm Plains by the Shapers. The eastern part was much newer, a collection of squat stone buildings built to house the new settlers. The place was bustling with activity. Everywhere Drassia looked, people were on a war footing; soldiers and battle creations marched through the city alongside merchants bearing supplies fir the Shaper army. Even so, the atmosphere was surprisingly quiet and tense; the people were active, purposeful, and afraid. Drassia got a lot of nervous glances as she passed through. Above the city, to the west, Drassia could see Stormhold, the massive stone fortress that had housed the chieftain of all the tribes of the Storm Plains. Now it was the residence of the commander of all the Shaper forces in the Storm Plains: General Alwan.
As Drassia wondered exactly how she was going to get permission to get into Stormhold to carry out her assigned task, a tall woman wearing a guard commander's insignia came up to her, not looking happy. "You there, stop," she said, pointing at Drassia. "I am Commander Illyara, of the Perikalia garrison. Your papers. Now."
Drassia showed them to her. She inspected them and handed them back to Drassia. "As I thought. I was asked to look for you. I have an important message."
"What's your message?" asked Drassia.
"I have received word directly from General Alwan, in Stormhold. He mentioned you by name." The hint of envy in Illyara's voice was clear. "You are to go see him in Stormhold. Personally. Immediately. That is the message. I add that, if you have angered him in some way, you should face your punishment now and not infuriate him further. I have seen the effects of the general's rage. It is best avoided."
"I will go see him, then," Drassia said, hoping that Alwan was not, in fact, angry with her. She couldn't see why he would be, but there was a lot she didn't know. At the very least, she hoped, she would be able to get access, with or without Alwan's permission, to go where Rawal wanted her to.
Illyara nodded. "A wise choice. Whatever your opinions of the Shapers, the attention of their leaders generally leads to great preferment. Since you seem significant, I will not have Alwan think that I withheld information from you. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"
"No, that's all. Good day," replied Drassia.
Illyara said, "Safe travels to you. Remember, faith in the Shapers will be rewarded," and left. Drassia watched after her, thinking that even though some of the outsiders that the Shapers chose to communicate their will to the rest of the world had become somewhat more careful and reasonable in their dealings with others in this time of war, this woman was clearly still convinced that the Shapers were always in the right. She shook her head. It did no good to think about random things like that; she had a general to see and a very valuable item to steal. She headed up to Stormhold, uncertain as to what awaited her there.
Stormhold was an odd mix of Shaper and ancient architecture; most of the buildings Drassia could see were definitely Shaper work, but there were occasional traces of something far older. Normally, the place would be quiet and imposing: Several large buildings surrounded by tranquil grounds. However, the large encampment of Shaper soldiers on said grounds ruined the effect. Drassia supposed they must be there to protect General Alwan in case of rebel attack.
She asked directions from a suspicious soldier and found that General Alwan could be found in the large building to the northwest. Drassia thanked him and went there. She walked through the foyer and into the throne room of General Alwan, leader of the Storm Plains, member of the Shaper Council, war hero, and scourge of the rebels.
She was stunned by what she saw.
Alwan's body had been shattered. His skin was covered in burns. One of his arms was sickeningly emaciated. His head lolled to one side. He was kept standing upright by a metal framework inside a runic circle by the north wall. Crystal power conduits crossed the floor around him. Two of them actually entered his body to sustain him with energy.
Alwan saw Drassia and lifted his head, letting out a gurgle. "Ghahh... you there. Yes." He weakly waved her forward. "I have waited for you. Come and speak. Don't be afraid. If you obey our laws, I have no problem with you."
Drassia walked slowly forward, wondering just what the hell had happened to Alwan. He motioned her to sit on one of the benches next to him. Drassia noticed that the smell wasn't as bad as she might have expected; mainly ozone with a hint of smoke. Alwan inspected her. Drassia was surprised to see that he looked upon her with neither disdain nor judgment, but rather with a calm and analytical expression. This, she thought, was a man who had learned in his travels that you could never be sure about anyone: loyalist, rebel, good, evil, none of the above... all were possible in everyone. He said, "I'm sure you're wondering why I have summoned you. I have received a very unusual message from the enemy.
"As you may know, it was my leadership that stopped the rebel advance. My forces pushed the rebel army back past the range of mountains to east and rebuilt a line of three fortresses to keep them there. Now we are in a stalemate. We are on this side of the Line. The drakons are on the other. Our creations savage each other in the wild lands between. That is where things have been for months, each side looking for an advantage. Then I received the message. It is from Ghaldring, the beast that leads the drakons. From Gazaki-Uss, their fortress at the eastern edge of contested territory. He sent it with a servile to Fort Defiance." He let out a short, gurgling laugh. "Fortunately, the servile was not killed on sight. It invites us to send an envoy to Gazaki-Uss to negotiate certain details. But that's the interesting part: the invitation is extended to one person — you."
Drassia blinked. "You're sure it's me they want?"
"Their description of you was so precise, it was as if the person who wrote it knew you personally." Alwan smiled. "Met any spies lately?"
Off the top of her head, Drassia could think of two, Mehken and Greta, but she didn't tell Alwan that. "How did they know about me?"
"That is a good question," Alwan said. "It's not because you're a spy for them — they would never call attention to such a person like that. Perhaps they heard a tale of your travels, or perhaps a spy of theirs met you and carried your name to them."
"What, then, do you want from me?" asked Drassia.
"I want you to do your duty to the Shapers. I will let you cross the line. I will give you what you need to cross the ravaged lands beyond safely. You will meet with the drakons. You will hear what they have to say. You will return with their message — and you will return with information about Gazaki-Uss. How big it is. How many troops. What it seems to be for. Who is there. That is what I require, and you will be very, very well paid for quality intelligence. You are also welcome to any treasure or training you can wheedle out of the drakons while you are there." Alwan made a little motion with his hand. A servant brought him a goblet of wine; he took it and drank deeply.
Drassia thought, then shook her head. "I will not be your spy."
Alwan shrugged. It looked painful. "And I will not compel you, though I could. I could bind you, throw you over the Line, and have you executed if you returned without information. I will not. I can use allies, even unusual ones. Return if you change your mind." He snapped his fingers. A servant brought him an amulet. "However, I would like to hear what the drakons have to say, if only to know what sort of lies they are inclined to tell." He gave the amulet to Drassia. "That will preserve you in the wastes." He looked at Drassia closely. Something was bothering him.
"What's wrong?" Drassia asked.
For a moment, Alwan got distracted. Drassia sensed that this was not a common occurrence. "You look... you look similar to someone I..." He shook his head. "No. Just similar." He struggled to concentrate again.
Drassia asked, "You know me?"
Alwan finally regained his composure. "I have met many people in my travels. For you to resemble one of them is only to be expected."
Drassia muttered under her breath, "That's almost the same thing Greta said."
She hadn't intended for Alwan to hear, but he did. "What did you say?"
"Oh, I... recently met a woman named Greta who responded to that question almost the same way you did," said Drassia, slightly confused.
"Was this Greta in her late twenties, walking with a slight limp, with short brown hair?" asked Alwan.
"Yes, she was," said Drassia. "Do you know her?"
"Oh, yes. I know her," Alwan said. "Let me tell you my story. You will see how she fits into it.
"I was a student of Shaping on the Ashen Isles when the rebellion began. I traveled with two others: Greta, and... another, who led our little group. I will not say his name. I left them after they... did something very illegal. I fought the enemy there until I saw the cause was lost. Then I found my way to the mainland and joined up with the Shaper army. I excelled. I rose through the ranks in eastern Terrestia, marking each new promotion with a fresh slaughter of rebels and rogues. I ascended to my current rank swiftly, aided by the frequent and tragic deaths of my superiors. And then... I gained information about the Unbound being completed in a mountain fortress of the drakons. I led a raid there, assisted by an Agent named Miranda, a true hero for the Shapers. We began our assault with waves of creations, but these were defeated. So we attacked in person. Greta was there. We fought, she and I. She won, thinking me dead. I heard the other human rebel there saying that he was unsure that completing the Unbound would be the best course of action, but that he saw no better one. I saw him press the button that completed the Unbound. He, Greta, and the drakons left as the Unbound came out of their Shaping vats. My body was ruined, but I held myself together with sheer power and essence. With my fading power, I made a cryoa. It dragged me to the icy seas. A Guardian on a passing ship sensed me. It was dumb luck that allowed me to live.
"At that point, none doubted my skill or dedication to the Shaper cause. I wanted to die, but High Councilor Shema thought that I could do some good on the Council. He was, as he often is, correct. And now, I have said enough. My babble is a sign of weakness. We should return to more pressing matters. If you need training, go to my sages in the northern building. If you can convince them to train you, I will allow it."
Drassia simply stood there, amazed. Alwan had been through a lot. She wondered if she had been through as much before she lost her memory. She shook her head to clear it and said, "Thank you. I will leave for Gazaki-Uss tomorrow."
Drassia looked at the sign at the door in the back of the main hall of Stormhold. It said:
Private. Intruders will be considered spies.
Drassia supposed that was understandable if this was Alwan's library, as she thought it was. There could be Shaper secrets in here that they didn't want outsiders to know. Drassia's task from Rawal was to steal a book containing secrets that the Shapers didn't want anyone, including each other, knowing: "Canister — Creation and Analysis". Rawal had told her that the book had been banned by the Shaper Council; no copies had ever been made, and only by a fluke had the original, which Rawal believed now resided in Alwan's library, escaped destruction. Drassia was certain, as was Rawal, that if Alwan knew that this book was in his possession, he would destroy it himself.
Drassia picked the lock on the door and slipped in, closing the door behind her. It was very quiet; the only sound was that of a guard marching back and forth. Drassia could see the pressure plates in the floor, likely connected to alarms or worse. She quietly told Fang and Spitfire to stay where they were and moved to the first plate, disarming it. She did the same with the second plate and pressed her back against the wall, peeking around the corner and seeing the guard with his back to her. She slipped in and hid behind a bookshelf, looking at the titles of the books. Most of them were bulky tomes on obscure Shaping topics that Drassia thought looked pretty useless. None of them was the book she was looking for. She started to move out from behind the shelf, but stopped as she heard the guard coming back. She hid in a shadow as the guard came past the shelf and silently slipped around while his back was turned. She held her breath as he passed the other way. She glanced at the titles of the books on this side of the shelf. Nothing. She turned to the next shelf and looked at the titles there. She found what she was looking for; the book on canisters looked much newer than any of the others, and it was much thinner, making it easier to get out without being noticed. She slid it into an inside pocket of her robe and got out of the library before anyone saw her there.
