7 Timozel Plans
Ever since Gorgrael had told him about his success with the Gryphon, the Dear Man had disappeared. Gorgrael supposed that perhaps he was slightly miffed at Gorgrael’s achievements. But it did not matter, for now he had Timozel to talk to, and Timozel was such good company, not only because of his intelligence, but because he was totally under the Destroyer’s control.
Today was the last day that Timozel would spend at the Ice Fortress before he joined the bulk of the Skraeling army north of Jervois Landing. He had already begun to mould the Skraelings, relaying orders and receiving information through the SkraeBolds and the Gryphon. Gorgrael hiccupped with pleasure when he remembered how SkraeFear and his two remaining brothers had sulked and brooded when introduced to Timozel, deeply resenting the loss of their favoured spot at Gorgrael’s side. But Gorgrael had taught Timozel how best to use his well of power, and Timozel had brooked no resentment nor resistance from the SkraeBolds; all three now wore the welts to remind them that it was not a good idea to cross Timozel.
Gorgrael looked fondly across the crazily canted table at his able lieutenant.
“What is it you plan, Timozel? How will you work my will?”
Timozel did not look up from the map he held straight with only the most extreme difficulty; damn Gorgrael’s preference for ridiculous angles and planes in his furniture! “I will work your will to the best of my ability, Lord.”
“Yes, yes.” Gorgrael shifted impatiently. “But what is it you plan?”
Timozel tapped the map. “From the reports your Gryphon have brought me, the force at Jervois Landing remains relatively small. The freezing of the Nordra has effectively stopped Axis sending any more troop transports north.” He paused. “I know Jervois Landing well. Now that the canals have been frozen as solid as the Nordra the town’s defences are virtually nil. I shall overwhelm and crush Jervois Landing with little trouble.”
“You won’t attack through the WildDog Plains?”
“No.” Both Timozel and Gorgrael were very reluctant, not only to split their force for a two-pronged attack through both Jervois Landing and the WildDog Plains, but to expose a Skraeling force to the powerful magic of Sigholt on the one flank and the Avarinheim on the other. Since he had been with Gorgrael, Timozel had learned a great deal about the magic of the land he and his master planned to invade. “No. We attack with full force at Jervois Landing. They won’t even have time for final prayers before dying.”
“And then you overrun Aldeni and Skarabost?” Gorgrael asked.
Timozel lifted his eyes from the map, and Gorgrael stilled at the cold light in them. “No.”
Gorgrael was puzzled. “Well, straight to Carlon then. There is much beauty to destroy there.”
The coldness deepened in Timozel’s eyes. “No.”
“Well, then, what?”
“Our main objective must be to destroy Axis’ army. I have a better plan. Listen.”
Gorgrael listened … and liked. It was a good plan, but better than that, it was a tricky plan. Timozel would do well, yes, indeed he would.
On the fourth day after she and Axis had discussed Faraday’s safety, Azhure finally found herself with enough energy and free time to visit Spiredore. She had not been back to the tower across the Grail Lake since that dreadful morning when the Gryphon had attacked her and Caelum on its roof. But Azhure knew she would have to go back. She needed to speak to WolfStar, and she hoped he would appear to her in Spiredore again as he had two weeks ago. She also hoped she could learn more about the magic of Spiredore.
Azhure had been amazed to discover that Axis and StarDrifter, as every other Icarii Enchanter who entered the tower between the time it was reawoken and the time it was given to her, only saw a hollow shell with a plain staircase creeping about its walls to the roof. No-one else had seen the crazy assemblage of balconies and intertwining stairs that she and Caelum had seen. Does Spiredore choose who will see its secrets? Azhure wondered as she sat in the bow of the small boat that Arne rowed for her.
“My Lady, are you well enough for this expedition?” Arne asked, barely out of breath despite his efforts. He was not sure if Axis knew what Azhure was doing and wondered if he should have told him. But Azhure was a grown woman and did not need Axis’ permission for her actions. Arne’s only real doubt was that Azhure looked so pale and thin despite her pregnancy that she might fall and injure herself inside the tower.
“I am well enough,” Azhure said, her irritation at the question stilled by the genuine concern she knew lay behind it. “And besides, you do all the work.”
“But you will be alone within the tower, my Lady.”
Azhure bent down to pat the head of the great pale hound that rested in the belly of the boat. “I have Sicarius to watch over me, Arne. Should I suffer any mishap he will fetch help.”
Arne nodded, satisfied.
When they docked at the small pier by Spiredore, Arne helped Azhure disembark. Then he sat to wait, watching as the white door closed behind Azhure and her hound.
The interior was exactly as Azhure remembered it. Now that sunlight suffused the atrium from windows set high overhead, she could see every detail of the stairwells and balconies that swirled to dizzying heights above her. Rooms, chambers, open spaces, all opened off balconies none of which were level with their neighbours. Again Azhure was struck by the beauty created by this chaos; she was sure there were secrets and mysteries within the rooms and stairwells that spiralled above her. Spiredore was alive with magic, and it was hers to discover as she willed.
For almost an hour Azhure wandered the ground-floor rooms, unwilling to climb any of the stairs lest she become lost and disorientated. She had expected that once she was inside the tower WolfStar would appear as quickly and as mysteriously as he had that last time – but the rooms remained stubbornly empty and the stairwells disappointingly silent.
Finally, tired and dispirited, Azhure sank down onto the bare floor of one of the chambers.
Sicarius whined and pressed his head into her hands.
“Well, my fine fellow,” Azhure said as she scratched the hound behind the ears. “Did WolfStar ever bring you here? Do you know how to find your former master?”
But the Alaunt remained as obstinately silent as Spiredore itself and Azhure sighed. Perhaps she should have brought Caelum. Perhaps the only reason WolfStar had come to her before was to see his grandson. But even as she thought this, Azhure realised WolfStar’s interest in Caelum that night had been only tangential; his real focus had been her.
Azhure shifted her weight, uncomfortable on the hard floor, and thought that the answer must lie within her somewhere. Hadn’t WolfStar told her that the tower had been built just for her? Well, here the tower stood, but the builders had forgotten to give her the key.
“Stop it, woman!” she said to herself, annoyed at her negative thoughts.
