The Crystal Empire Preview 4

Introduction

For your reading pleasure is an early look into an early chapter of The Crystal Empire, my upcoming epic fantasy project. It is a rought draft, and things will likely change between this and the published version.

This selection is from a bit later in the book.

Mal 1

Things were not going according to plan. That wasn’t unusual for one of his plans, but Mal had hoped they could have avoided any major interruptions until they were within sight of the Wall. He shoved down the doubts and the worries that clawed at him for years now, and felt for the toddler-sized hunk of crystal he wore on his back, the light inside reaching up for him, enveloping him.

And he elated in it. A piece of him had been torn away five years ago, leaving him weak and powerless and limited to the capabilities of his mortal flesh. The light had always come to him as an old friend, and it almost brought tears to his eyes again knowing he’d finally found a crystal that would not break for his using it. It was no replacement for the archcrystal he’d been forced to leave behind, not yet. He felt an eagerness to the crystal, a yearning to grow and experience the heights of power he had once been capable of.

What had happened in Sarinton? For years, this town had been a quiet haven for experials, far from the eyes and agents from the other side of the wall, a safe place to lay low. Not an exciting place by any means, but there were other places in the Fringe to go if you wanted excitement. The appeal of Sarinton, so far as Mal knew, had always been that it was so far away from anything interesting; it’s why Selia had picked this place to set up shop when he’d gone off chasing legends. That he hadn’t been able to sense her immediately after stepping through the gate had been his first clue that something was wrong here.

Sarinton was not a large town, and it had taken him only a few minutes to reach the meyr’s manse in the middle of what they thought of as the “nice” street of houses. He had stopped judging the people of the Fringe for the primitive squalor most of them lived in after his first Turning out here; their lives were hard and unpredictable and had more to concern themselves with than the intricacies of crystal science. He had meant to walk right up to the meyr’s door, but froze when he noticed the stout man in the familiar robes of the Imperial Warriors standing sentry.

Mal pressed his back around a corner and out of the man’s potential line of sight.

Okay. New plan.

The Wall Guard was here, which meant he couldn’t just walk in to the meyr’s demanding an audience and hope nobody notices him enhancing his senses to listen to the whole house. Why is the Wall Guard here? We- they never come out this far. He still had difficulty separating himself from his old life, though he hadn’t been on the Guard himself in more than ten years. If they were here, even if it’s just one of them, that meant some midlevel bureaucrat who Mal could only hope had not yet completed his second stage.

But until he knew for sure, he was going to have to rely on his regular old mortal flesh rather than his crystal. Any Warrior worth their salt would detect his crystal in an instant. He had seen at least thirty-five Turnings now if he counted right, and though he was not the spry, energetic youth he had once been, the amount of damage he had been able to cause with only his fists would not be something the Judges soon forgot. Not that it needed to come to that.

He found a narrow alleyway tucking back behind the row of houses and slipped in. It was just barely wide enough for two men to pass each other, which suited his purposes well. A ledge on one side marked the perfect place, and with a running start Mal jumped, kicking off the far wall and up onto the ledge. A few more roofs and he pulled himself up into the afternoon sunshine and wind above the roofline.

Mal felt the grin wide on his face as he made sure of his footing on the tiled rooftop, and surveyed the town from above. It was easy to see the gates, the temple and market where bells rang, calling people to service. And yes, there, the Meyr’s manse standing a story taller than anything else on its block. Which was convenient when you wanted to listen in on something happening in the Meyr’s study on the middle of three floors.

It took only a few hops across a gap and some strategic steps to avoid a suspect patch of roof before he was crouched prone against the Meyr’s study wall, listening through the blessedly open window.

“…I didn’t take much credence in what he said,” a man’s voice was saying. “I could see, maybe, the resemblance, but why would the Godkiller be walking to the market with a couple kids?”

“Kids?” asked a posh voice in an accent he recognized from his days in the capital. “You mean children?”

“Yeah,” the first voice said. “Kids. Not adults.”

“How old would you venture to say those children were?”

“One was maybe ten, the other a few years older. Why?”

Mal realized he was holding his breath and exhaled. At least the little things could go his way.

“You don’t really think he’s taking on apprentices, do you Ferian?” a third voice added.

“It’s a possibility Val,” the second voice said. “One we must consider.”

“Bah. Out here? Who would he even teach?”

Mal smirked. He certainly had not expected to find an apprentice out this far, let alone two of them. Not even seventeen and shattering crystals at her touch, speaking with crystal spirits, and how quickly she learned… It had taken him years of practice to create even the smallest force wave, and yet Demara was mastering the technique only weeks after first learning such a thing was even possible. While Kinro lacked her raw talent, his combination of drive, ferocity, and restraint was exactly what Mal liked to see in his students. With those types, inevitable betrayal was part of the territory. Nothing he hadn’t had to work through with Ioen. Or Dresa. Or Rogilin.

The second voice, Ferian sighed.

“I don’t know, Val. It was just a question.”

The first man, the guard from earlier, cleared his throat.

“Do you sirs need anything else from me?”

“No,” the second voice said. “Thank you, you may go.”

A moment later the door squeaked open and clattered shut. Whoever these strangers were, one of them was dangerously good at his job.

After a brief jibe at the guard’s expense their conversation turned to idle talk that did little more than confirm Mal’s suspicions about these two strangers. Imperials. One’s Mal suspected were being taken advantage of by the old Meyr. A few vague promises and an offer of hospitality and these two had practically handed the Meyr enough new crystals to outfit the whole guard and enough wealth for him to set himself up as a little tyrant.

Mal sat up and stared at the blue sky a moment, enjoying the crystal-cooled breeze as he thought through his next move. He wasn’t sure who these two imperials were, but they had deep pockets and they wanted to find him, badly enough to prop up a new petty kingdom way out in the Fringe. Selia would have been long gone by now, he knew, and he could only hope she had left some sort of clue to where she’d gone, since pretty much every one of their contacts had cleared town. Without her, he wasn’t sure how he was going to get them back into the Empire without leading them on all out assaulting the wall. He wasn’t that desperate, not yet.

He needed answers, but had walked his apprentices right into a hornet’s nest. He had one more stop to make, one last place Selia might have left him a clue, then he was grabbing the kids and getting as far from Sarinton as they could before nightfall.

A few moments later he was back on the streets, working his way through the twists and turns of Sarinton’s unplanned streets towards a narrow lane on the other side of town not far from the south wall. He smiled to see the door painted a brilliant blue.

He rapt on the door, and a few moments later a gruff looking man opened it.

Before Mal even had a chance to speak, the man said “No.” and slammed the door right in his face.

Mal knocked again.

“Open the door Quarl,” Mal groaned as he knocked.

Sounds of rumbling and rustling came from inside, and Mal could hear muffled shouting. His will reached for the large crystal at his back, but he had to shove that way. Instead, he adjusted himself into a combat stance and prepared for whatever was going to meet him on the other side of that door. He was not expecting the door to be thrown open and Quarl hefting a contraption made of wood and metal that Mal instantly recognized as a shotgun and pointed it right at his chest.

“I’m going to tell you how this is going to go, Mal,” Quarl snarled. “You’re going to leave. Now. Or I’ll kill you right where you stand and collect that bounty on you myself.”

Shit.

“Come on Quarl, let’s talk about this,” Mal said calmly.

Quarl’s cocked an eyebrow and he began to pull something back along the ridge of the barrel.

“Oh, you want to talk now, do you? After what you did?”

“What did I do?”

Something clicked, and a menacing red light began to glow in the bowels of the gun.

“Don’t act stupid. You led those imperial dogs right to us. That was your plan the whole time, the two of you. Get in close and then shut us all down.”

Mal dropped the combat stance and raised his hands in front of him.

“I’m not acting stupid Quarl, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Where’s Selia?”

“Men came looking for you. Threatened to take Kira if I didn’t tell them everything I knew, which thanks to you wasn’t much of anything. Selia fled moments before they showed up.”

“Of course she did,” Mal sighed. “Quarl, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone so long it was only supposed to be a few months. Is everyone alright? Kira? Sera? The twins?”

He locked gazes with Quarl’s deep brown eyes. This man had taken them in, sheltered them, and helped them get settled into town when they had first arrived nearly two Turnings ago. In their time together, Mal had grown quite fond of evening meals with the family.

“Please, Quarl? Let me in, I’ll try to explain.”

“No,” Quarl shook his head and flicked a switch on the gun, dispersing the gathering light inside. “You’ll explain here. And fast. And then you’ll go.”

“I did what you said. I went and found a cave to watch the world end in, but fate had other plans.”

Quarl sneered. Mal had been morose for much of his time in Sarinton, and at one point it had proven too much for Quarl, who had snapped some sense back into him.

“You know by now I didn’t just leave the empire. I didn’t do what they say I did, and rather than proving my innocence I fled for my life. Selia helped get my bearings out here. We traveled, chasing legends. That’s what brought us to Sarinton, but you know that. We didn’t lie to you all, we just… never told you the whole truth. I’m sorry.”

The big man nodded to the bundle on Mal’s back.

“You found one then?” Quarl asked. “A new crystal?”

“More than that,” Mal said. “I found help. Things might actually be able to be set right.”

“That’s good for you Mal. You shouldn’t stay here long. Things in Sarinton have changed.”

Mal nodded.

“I wasn’t planning to. I only wanted to come by and say ‘goodbye’. And ‘thank you’.”

“And to see if Selia left anything behind for you.”

“And to see if Selia left anything for me, yeah,” Mal said sheepishly.

“She didn’t.”

“Kir still have the bracelet?”

“Yeah.” Quarl had never liked how well Mal had gotten along with his charming, affable wife.

“Good.” Mal eyed the gun resting on Quarl’s shoulder. “Don’t be afraid to use it.”

He turned his back and opened his blue door.

“Goodbye, Mal,” Quarl said, stepping inside and leaving Mal on the street alone.