Some of the smaller coastal settlements, however, had not had the might of the Empire to back them up and entire generations had been slaughtered, villages reduced to rubble before the sea demons — their hunger apparently sated — had withdrawn.
But not all of the creatures had escaped. A special cadre of the Order of The Swords of Dawn — under the supervision of Querilous Fitch — had managed to capture a handful of prisoners. And now that the Final Faith had the Chadassa back in residence at the dungeons in Scholten, they would use all means at their disposal to discover the true nature of their plans.
Silus sat and watched Katya and Zac sleep.
The bedchamber to which Win had taken them was opulent but dusty, though Katya hadn't complained and she was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Beside his mother, Zac had burbled and cooed for a while before joining her in slumber. Silus would have joined them himself but, even though he was more exhausted than he had ever been, he couldn't sleep. Instead, he sat in a chair by the window and watched his wife and child, the soft light of a torch burning outside playing across their faces.
With a pang of regret, Silus wondered what he had brought upon his family.
His son had been born in exile and his wife was no longer sure just who her husband was, or what he would become. And then there were the Chadassa, determined to tear Silus from the people he loved and use him as a pawn in their unfathomable plans.
Katya stirred in her sleep, a hand coming up to weakly paw before her face, as though trying to ward off whatever phantom was haunting her dream.
He could just give himself up to the Chadassa, Silus considered. Maybe if he surrendered himself to the fate they so clearly thought was his destiny, then they'd leave Katya and Zac alone. Kelos had shown him how he could communicate with the denizens of the sea. All he had to do was reach out with his mind and find their song.
Silus closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound of his breath, on each inhalation and exhalation.
He left behind the three people in the bedchamber, he left behind the city riding on the back of its vast wave and then he was out over the water, listening to the songs of the creatures who moved below.
Silus searched for the call of the Chadassa but as he began to detect a whistling roar amongst all the other songs — sounding like the howl of wind through an abyss — another more urgent cry reached his ears.
This cry was filled with a dreadful and urgent need. At its core was a fear of loneliness that Silus couldn't ignore. He followed it back over the water to find himself back in his body, staring at Zac as he wailed and wailed.
Silus picked up his son and the child's cries stopped. Zac's body against his own was warm and he could feel the rapid beat of his son's heart as he pressed him to his chest. It soon slowed as Zac settled against him and Silus swayed him from side to side.
"Shhhhhh. Shhhhhh. It's okay. It's all okay now."
And as Zac's small fists bunched in the folds of Silus's shirt and those large, tearful eyes looked up into his own, he made a decision that when it came to it, when the Chadassa came for him, he would stand and fight with everything he had.
The next day, the crew accompanied Win as he led them to the centre of Morat.
They had risen early and, after a hearty breakfast, followed the Archduke as he descended the narrow stone steps leading from the palace. When they reached the bottom Silus looked up and he could just make out the sky far above, as though he stood at the bottom of a deep well. The dark speck that they had noticed on arriving at Morat still marred the face of Kerberos.
"A sign that does not bode well, I fear." Win said, following Silus's gaze.
A domed building stood at the centre of Morat and across its surface, picked out in delicate curlicues and flourishes of stone, was the same script that decorated Emuel's body, and it burned with a vivid illumination.
"This is the seat of Morat. The engine house of our city. Gentlemen — and lady — welcome to the house of the Stone Seers. The text covering the building is the holy scripture, taken from the Book of the Allfather."
"The songs," Emuel said. "My Lord, the songs!"
"Win, this holy text of yours? Do you know who wrote it?" Kelos said.
"It was a gift from the Allfather. He sent it out with his people."
As they walked over the threshold, the song suddenly rose around them and Silus wondered whether this was what Emuel heard every time he communed with the stone on the ship. Silus had never heard anything so beautiful. He turned to Katya, to see tears rolling down her face. In her arms, Zac squealed with delight and clapped his hands.
Inside, dozens of robed people hurried through a wide hall, looks of deep concentration on their faces. As they passed Silus noticed that they sang softly to themselves. On their robes was the same script that covered the exterior of the building.
"The Stone Seers," Win said. "These are the men and woman who maintain the ancient song and make sure that its rhythms never fail."
They moved across the smooth, highly polished floor to a set of double doors framed by a vast arch. The doors stood four times as tall as any of the crew and looked as though they had been carved from bone. Into the yellowing material had been worked the story of Morat.
At the centre — and overlapping the two doors — was Kerberos, the clouds that covered its surface picked out in delicate folds and arches of bone. Below this, dozens of humans were depicted falling away from Kerberos, expressions of anguish and remorse on their faces. A great stone rode in their midst and linking them together were lines from the holy text. These travellers through the void were heading towards the city of Morat, which rode its great wave at the base of the doors.
Win put his right hand on the fresco and, with a click, the doors swung open.
The song increased in volume, rolling out of the chamber on a breath of warm, perfumed air. The room into which Win now led them was dominated by a vast stone sphere, its summit almost touching the ceiling. But for its size, it was identical to the Llothriall's stone. Veins of magical energy played across its surface and out across the walls, where it illuminated the lines of the holy text that had been worked into the stone. Around the circumference of the cradle supporting the stone was a ring of eight lecterns. At these stood more robed figures, their voices raised in the ethereal song that filled the room with its powerful resonance. Around the edges of the room stood more of the Stone Seers, waiting to take over from any of the singers who tired. Maintaining the song clearly involved considerable exertion, for those who were led away from their lecterns to be replaced with others of their kind were often pale and drenched in sweat.
"It is crucial that the song never falters," Win said. "For if that happens, Morat would be truly lost. It is the power of the stone that leads us on the path the Allfather laid down for us, and shapes the sea to carry us."
"And are all your stone seers eunuchs?" Kelos asked.
"Well no, why would they be?"
"Emuel, our seer, was emasculated in order that he would be able to attain the correct pitch in which the song is to be sung."
"How can somebody be so cruel? It is the rhythm, the cadence that is essential to maintaining the song. Pitch has nothing to do with it."
"I notice also that your Seers are not tattooed like Emuel."
"I must admit that I was wondering why the holy text had been needled into his flesh."
"It is a magical mnemonic," Kelos said. "The tattoos allow the song to flow through Emuel. It is this that enables him to unlock the power of the stone on the Llothriall. As you have seen, however, his flesh has been marred and the songlines broken."