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A
t the centre of the Hall of Suns there was indeed a hall – perhaps the same hall that gave the palace its name. It was huge – big enough for entire houses to be built inside it, Teressa thought. If it had been empty it would have looked even bigger, but as it was it was crowded and that made it look rather smaller than it might have.
Everyone was there – all the party guests gathered into the hall, standing among the massive stone pillars that held up its roof. Those pillars were decorated, like everything else in the Hall of Suns –carved and painted to look like lotus flowers. The ceiling had been painted with a massive mural, and at the very centre of that was a golden sunwheel – a sunwheel bigger than a griffin. There were actually griffins, flying in a circle, painted around its inside. At the very centre, a golden man stood with his arms outstretched and a faint smile on his face, staring down at the guests through a pair of rich blue almond-shaped eyes.
Beyond all of that was a profusion of painted flowers, fields, rivers, oceans – and after a few moments of staring at it in wonder, Teressa realised she was looking at a map of the world. The sunwheel was at the centre of what must be Amoran, and beyond that – painted much smaller than the great Eastern continent – were the other countries of the world. She saw what must be Cymria, painted with snow-covered trees much larger than life, and Maijan stuck in-between. She had never seen a map of the world before, but she assumed that was what it must be like – Amoran, the greatest of all, at the centre. Amoran, the land of the sun, to which all the other lands of the earth were subordinate. It was humbling.
Below that, the gathered guests chattered excitedly among themselves. They were standing quite close together, forced to stay around the edges of the hall, since the rest of it had been fenced off by a group of guards. A great throne, carved out of stone, sat on a plinth in the very centre, and upon it sat the Emperor with his family standing around him. Teressa counted them, and quickly saw that there were indeed four men there who must be his four surviving sons. Each of them had their own children with him, and at the very back stood a group of women who must have been the wives of the Emperor and his sons. In Amoran, she had been told, noble men were allowed to have as many wives as they pleased. Either way, it was a big group, and she guessed that the entire Imperial family must have been called back to Xanthium for the celebration.
If the Imperial family were all griffiners, their griffins mustn’t have been with them – Teressa only saw the Emperor’s own partner, Zaerih, standing behind his throne. She had reared onto her hind legs and rested her forepaws on the back of the throne, directly behind her partner’s head. It only served to make her partner look more impressive to Teressa.
The Emperor himself was still wearing the headdress he had had on earlier, but now he had also donned a white tunic – very light and loose-fitting, but plain. His sandals, though, were gold, and his face had been painted to make his eyes look bigger.
Teressa scanned the faces of the Imperial family, but couldn’t see Flell anywhere. Just as well. It would be best that the Northern guests there didn’t see her.
As for the guests themselves, they stood between the pillars – the griffiners with their partners just behind them, rearing protectively over them. Orak had stationed himself just behind Teressa like the others – she could sense his great grey head looming over her own, without having to look, and his chest feathers brushed against her back. It was comforting to have him there.
There must have been at least two hundred other guests – mostly Amoranis, but all the Northerners she had arrived with were there too, along with some Maijanis, and some from races she had never seen before, all wearing what must have been their ceremonial outfits. Her fellow griffiners from Cymria wore theirs – gowns or tunics decorated with griffin feathers, with the long flight feathers hanging down the back. Teressa wished she had one of her own, but she would have had to pay a tailor a lot of money for it. An outfit like that probably cost hundreds of oblong.
There were guards everywhere too – she saw them stationed, two at every entrance. Slave guards, of course.
She had just finished taking all this in when Zaerih screeched. The sound cut across the chattering of the guests, and silence quickly fell. Everyone there looked expectantly at Zaerih and the Emperor.
The Emperor stood up, and raised a gracious hand. ‘Welcome!’ he said loudly, speaking griffish. ‘Welcome to the Hall of Suns, and welcome to Xanthium if you are a visitor here. Many of you have come a very far away to be here today, and I thank you for your courtesy.’ He smiled. ‘Today is the sixtieth year of my life, and the thirtieth year of my reign as Emperor of Amoran. Thirty years, I have ruled this great Empire. It has been the task of my life, and one I have always taken pride in. Therefore you who have come here today are hereby invited to celebrate with myself and my family. Eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves!’
The guests cheered.
‘But first,’ the Emperor added with a smile, ‘It is time for the giving of the gifts.’
At this signal, several guests came forward one after another, to present the Emperor with gifts – some from wealthy families, and others from rulers of nations. One of Teressa’s fellow Northerners was among the first to go forward, and he presented the Emperor with a white Cymrian parrot in a cage. The parrot raised its yellow crest, and squawked “Hello!” in Northern, much to the amusement of the onlookers.
‘They can be taught to repeat words, Sacred Ruler,’ the Northerner holding the cage explained.
‘A fine gift,’ the Emperor smiled.
After that there were other Amoranis, who presented him with all kinds of different things – jewellery, books, carved wooden furniture decorated with gemstones... more beautiful things than Teressa had ever imagined. The Maijani dignitaries, led by Vander, presented him with a fine set of clothes, and an elaborate bone carving. Two finely-dressed guests from a race Teressa didn’t know came forward after that, accompanied by four massive dog-like creatures she had never seen before, and presented a chest full of intricately wrought gold ornaments. The dog creatures stood by, grunting deep in their chests.
After a while, though, Teressa, started to lose interest. She only perked up again when one of the Amorani guests – a lady dressed in green – came forward with the last gift, and that was only because the gift was so large. It had to be carried in by a team of slaves, all strong young men. They placed it down, and their master came forward and dramatically lifted away the cloth that covered it.
Underneath was a huge model building, carved out of dark wood. It looked like a palace of some kind, and it was astonishing. The windows were carved gemstones, and the roofs were ivory. It must have taken months to create.
‘A magnificent gift, Lady Ahamay!’ the Emperor said with a smile.
The lady bowed and smiled in return. Her slaves, having deposited the gift, silently returned to stand guard on either side of her. Teressa, watching, was shocked to notice that these slaves were different from the others. They were heavier than the Amorani slaves she had seen; wider in the shoulders, and paler in the skin. Their eyes were paler, as well.
Southerners, she thought. Southerners, all the way from Cymria. Had they been sold over here as prisoners of war, or had they been here already?
She hadn’t seen a Southerner in years – not since she was a small child – and she inspected these with great curiosity.
The biggest of them was the one who stood the closest to his master. He was square-jawed and big-handed, and she shuddered to think of how strong he must be. Most interesting of all, she could see faint stubble on his head, and it was red. She had never seen a red-haired man before.
As if he knew that she was looking at him, the red-haired slave turned his head towards her. His eyes narrowed, and she saw the expression in them.
It was full of hate.
She stiffened, and hot fear swelled in her stomach like molten metal. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t.
Then the Emperor spoke again, and the moment ended. ‘Excellent!’ he said loudly, causing a stir among the crowd. He nodded to his own slaves, who came forward to clear away the gifts. They left the carved palace, though – only moving it aside, so that some of the Emperor’s grandchildren, who had been eyeing it with interest, could come forward to examine it while their grandfather spoke on.
‘Now,’ he said. ‘It is time! On this most important of days, you here may all see a great treasure. It is only rarely brought out, but you may have the privilege of seeing it.’
The guests murmured excitedly, and settled down expectantly to wait. They didn’t have to wait long. Moments later, obviously having been waiting close by for just this moment, a team of slaves appeared, carrying something enormous wrapped in cloth on their shoulders.
Whatever it was, it was massive – easily as big as a large griffin. The muscular Maijani slaves carried it with difficulty, and laid it down at the Emperor’s feet with obvious relief.
The Emperor had stood up again, and now he waved a hand to the slaves, who came forward and silently removed the cloth.
Everyone there gasped.
Teressa leaned forward, dumbstruck, not quite able to believe what she was seeing.
It was a colossal skull – a skull made of some kind of black material that looked vaguely like stone. It wasn’t plain black, though, but shiny and iridescent, like the scales of a fish.
The skull itself was elongated, the eye sockets so big that Teressa could have curled up inside one. She could see the teeth from here – thin, sharp teeth, each one longer than her arm. The fangs at the front were as long as her whole body.
‘Holy Night God,’ she breathed.
Behind her, Orak hissed. ‘What creature could have such a skull?’
The Emperor spoke up. ‘This is the skull of the great serpent of Erebus,’ he said loudly. ‘Which my family has guarded for many centuries. It is our greatest treasure.’
‘That thing was alive?’ Teressa exclaimed, but nobody heard her over the shouts of astonishment. Surely, she thought, nothing that big could ever have existed.
‘Now you may—,’ the Emperor began, and broke off suddenly. Teressa saw him frown in puzzlement.
The lady in green, Lady Ahamay, had come forward. Ignoring the Emperor, ignoring the slaves, she went towards the skull. Her red-haired bodyguard followed close at her heels, along with his burly Maijani partner.
Lady Ahamay walked along the length of the skull, gently running her fingers over its shining surface. She murmured something to herself. The Emperor glared. Clearly, Teressa thought, Ahamay was being very rude.
She reached the Emperor, and faced him with the skull between them. She smiled. He gave her a puzzled look in return. ‘What is this, Ahamay?’
She spoke in some language Teressa didn’t recognise, but as her voice grew louder it began to sound more and more like a chant – rhythmic and strong. Behind her, the two guards stayed impassive and blank faced as slaves in Amoran always did.
The Emperor said nothing. He looked puzzled. Around him, his family had also gone quiet, apparently not knowing quite what to make of this.
Lady Ahamay smiled widely, and then without any warning she shouted a word. ‘Itzcóatl!’
With that she pulled a dagger out of her clothes, stepped forward, and stabbed the Emperor through the heart.
‘Now!’ the red-haired slave behind her roared in his own language, and before the Emperor could even fall he had rushed forward and brought his big fists down on the carved wooden palace. It broke instantly, splitting right down the middle, and as it fell apart, something came out.
Screams split the air. The Imperial family fell back in terror, but too late. There was no room to escape.
Snakes emerged from the broken carving – dozens and dozens of them. They whipped away into the crowd, hissing and rearing up to bite anyone who came too close. The Imperial family was right in their path. None of them, not even the raging Zaerih, stood a chance.
Teressa saw them fall, one after another, covered in snake bites. In front of them, completely calm, Lady Ahamay gestured to her slaves. They came forward and lifted the skull, carrying it with them away through the crowd, which was too panic-stricken to try and intervene.
Teressa had frozen to the spot without even realising it. Pure terror and shock had turned her spine to ice.
Orak had more presence of mind. His beak hooked her by the back of her silver robe, and he pulled her away from the panicking guests, dragging her towards the exit.
Teressa finally came back to her senses, and managed to find her feet. ‘We’ve got to get out of here!’ she said stupidly.
‘Hurry!’ Orak rasped. ‘Run!’
He went ahead of her, shoving people out of the way to clear the path. Teressa kept close to him.
‘Teressa!’ a voice yelled off to her left. She turned her head, and saw Lord Vander hurrying towards her with Ymazu.
‘Vander!’ she yelled back.
‘You must come with me!’ the old Amorani called. ‘Help me!’
Teressa nodded sharply and ran to him, elbowing the fleeing guests aside. Behind her Orak realised what she was doing and followed.
Vander had gone pale. ‘The Emperor is dead. We must not let his murderer escape. Come with me!’
Without a thought, Teressa followed him. Ymazu helped to clear the way just as Orak had done earlier, and the two humans followed, with Orak somewhere behind. Teressa didn’t stop to wonder if he approved of this plan, and there was no time.
The assassin and her slaves weren’t hard to track. They had taken the same door that must have been used to bring the skull into the hall, because it was the only one big enough. A few people had gone in pursuit, and now Vander and Teressa joined them.
The door led down a ramp, and a steel gate had been lifted to clear the way. The fleeing slaves carried the skull down it, ignoring their pursuers.
‘They are going to the river!’ Vander shouted. ‘They must have a boat waiting!’
They did, and more than that. Other slaves were waiting – dozens of them, all powerfully built Southerners and Maijanis. As their friends carrying the skull came down the ramp, they emerged from hiding and attacked their pursuers as they flooded out of the hall in confusion.
There were four griffins with Vander and Teressa, including Ymazu and Orak – but in the confined space, their size was a hindrance. The slaves attacked them and the humans there indiscriminately, and as Teressa lurched back in fright she saw several of the guests fall. Their killers disposed of them quickly and efficiently, with brutal stabs and slashes of their short swords or spears. When one of the griffins there shoved his way forward, a Maijani slave stood in his way and calmly thrust a spear through his throat before he could give himself the space to strike back. The griffin fell, killing several people in his death throes, and those behind him fell back, giving the assassins time to escape.
Teressa kept close to Orak and Ymazu. ‘They’re getting away!’ she shouted.
Vander’s dark eyes narrowed. ‘They will not get far,’ he said, and to her amazement he went on, shoving his hesitating fellows out of the way. Ymazu went with him, and pushed the dead griffin aside.
‘Come!’ Orak called, and limped after her.
Teressa followed against her better judgement,. ‘Orak, we should go back!’ she yelled.
Orak ignored her.
Down by the river, the slaves had already loaded the skull onto a boat where more of their comrades were busy covering it up. Meanwhile the bearers and the defenders took up position on the bank, ready to stop anyone who tried to interfere.
Some of the others had followed Vander and Teressa, and more were starting to appear – guests and guards who had managed to gather their wits and come after the fleeing assassin.
Vander, though, was first to reach them. ‘Stop!’ he roared. ‘Murderer!’
Lady Ahamay was still in sight, standing on her boat. There was a strange smile on her face. ‘In Itzcóatl’s name, justice has been done,’ she called out in griffish. She waved to her slaves. ‘Kill them.’
The slaves on the bank charged.
‘No—!’ Teressa screamed, but too late. With people pressing up behind her and the slaves charging from the front, there was nowhere to run to.
She saw Vander fall, stabbed through by a sword. Ymazu, trying to defend her human, fell as well not long afterward, speared in the chest and throat.
Half mad with terror, not knowing what to do, Teressa did what may well have been the stupidest thing possible. She ran forward, straight at the slave guards charging towards her.
The first one aimed a blow at her with a dagger. She dodged sideways and ran on, ducking a second slave. Her feet suddenly sank into mud, and she realised that she had reached the boat. An idea suddenly came to her and, ignoring the chaos on the bank, she dived into the water. The boat was already pulling away, but she didn’t care about that. All she wanted to do was escape.
She swam around behind the boat, keeping away from the oars thrusting at the bank, and made for the other side.
Behind her, Orak saw what she was doing. ‘Teressa!’ he screeched, and charged. Bowling his attackers over, he bounded to the bank and leapt at the boat. His outstretched forepaws cleared the side and hit the skull, cutting through the cloth to touch its shining surface.
The instant Orak’s talons touched the skull, a great blast of force shot outward from it. Everyone there, human and griffin, toppled over like trees struck by a hurricane. Orak fell back with a scream, and landed in the water.
The force struck Teressa as well, thrusting her backward through the water. For a moment she went limp with shock, but fortunately that made her float to the surface.
Bewildered, she recovered herself and swam for the shore as quickly as she could.
As she reached the shallows, a hand grabbed her and hauled her out, dragging her free of the water. She had thought she was making for the opposite bank as she’d planned to, but the invisible blow from the skull had confused her, and she had swum back the way she had come, wanting nothing but to get out of the river before something else happened
Teressa clung to her rescuer. ‘Thanks,’ she spluttered.
The hand had not let her go, and as she tried to recover herself she felt its grip tighten and lift her up. She shook her head dazedly, not knowing what was going on, and found herself looking up into the face of the slave with the red hair.
His hate-filled brown eyes were on her, and as she began to struggle he raised a short sword with his free hand. ‘Northerner scum,’ he growled in his own language.
Teressa clutched at his thick, muscular arm. ‘No!’ she cried. ‘Oh no! Help!’
The Southerner only snarled and pushed her away, giving himself room to stab her to death.
‘No!’ Teressa pleaded. ‘No, please don’t! Let me go!’
The man paused ever so briefly.
‘Please don’t kill me,’ Teressa babbled. ‘Please, I never hurt anyone, I—,’
The Southerner hesitated, sighed, and lowered the sword. ‘Get out of here, you stupid bloody darkwoman,’ he said, and shoved her away, sending her sprawling in the mud.
A moment later, someone grabbed him from behind. He turned and began to fight back, trying to defend himself as half a dozen Amorani guards closed in.
Teressa, keeping low, watched in silent horror as the full force of the Imperial guard finally arrived, and silently and brutally beat down the assassin’s lackeys. Some died, others surrendered, or were fought into submission.
Teressa saw the one with the red hair go down, roaring defiance, his sword lost. But he was outnumbered, and his attackers finally knocked him down and took him prisoner with the other survivors.
‘The bastard had it coming,’ he snarled, as his wrists were shackled together behind his back.
A blow to the head silenced him, and he and the other prisoners were hauled away. The boat was long gone by now, with Lady Ahamay and her remaining slaves still on it. On the bank, the guests and others who had first gone after her began to recover themselves. Or some of them did, anyway. Others lay dead or dying where they had fallen.
Teressa looked around frantically for Orak, and saw him shivering on the bank nearby. She ran to him, and found him standing over the bodies of Vander and Ymazu.
Teressa sighed – a long, deep sigh of exhaustion and shock. ‘Orak,’ she rasped. ‘Are ye all right?’
Orak said nothing. He seemed to be staring at the bodies that lay at his paws.
Teressa knelt, and lifted Vander’s head. His face was flecked with blood and mud, and more blood had wet his tunic. She gently brushed the hair away from his forehead, and placed a hand on his chest. ‘Lord Vander?’ she said softly.
Vander did not reply, and she knew he was dead. Ymazu, beside him, was dead as well. Someone had put a spear clean through her throat.
‘Who were they?’ Teressa mumbled. ‘Why...?’
‘They came to steal the skull,’ Orak said quietly. He didn’t look up as he spoke.
‘But why?’ said Teressa. ‘Why kill everyone, why...?’
‘It is not just a skull,’ said Orak. ‘It is a powerful object. Very powerful.’
‘Was that what knocked everyone over?’ asked Teressa.
‘Yes,’ said Orak. ‘When I touched it, its power...’ He still hadn’t looked up.
Teressa stared at him in confusion.
Silently, Orak raised his crippled foreleg.
It was healed.
