Gates of Ruin (Magelands Eternal Siege, #6) by Christopher Mitchell (top 10 books of all time .TXT) 📗

‘Yes,’ said Sohul; ‘I agree. I know this has been a trying time, but look at what we’ve achieved – we managed to get away from the Ascendants in Yoneath, and we’ve managed to successfully hide in Kin Dai. We have one big advantage, namely that our enemies think Corthie is dead.’

‘That’s an advantage?’ said Vana. ‘His presence here has been nothing but a liability. If we get caught, it’ll be because of him. If it weren’t for Aila, I’d recommend that we ditch him here, and find somewhere else to hide.’

A sudden rage bubbled up within Corthie and he hurled the mug of water at Vana. It missed her by an inch and smashed off the wall of the galley, showering her in water and fragments of pottery. She stared at him, her mouth open, water dripping from her chin.

She stood, her hands trembling.

‘That was a little over the top, Corthie,’ said Naxor. ‘Perhaps you should lie down for a while.’

‘I am so sick of the both of you,’ Corthie growled. ‘Bloody demigods, so smug and arrogant. You’ve been pampered for so long that you don’t understand the first thing about real life. One of you is a coward who used to work for Marcus; you stooped so low that you would search for Aila every day, trying to find her to please your master. And the other one? A crooked liar, who would sell out everyone he knows to get his hands on a Quadrant.’ A cramp gripped his stomach, and he paused, clutching his waist, his eyes closed.

‘It’s nice to know what you really think of us,’ said Vana.

Naxor chuckled. ‘I already knew.’

Corthie jumped to his feet, his teeth bared. ‘Get out of my sight, before I beat the both of you to a pulp.’

Vana started, her eyes wide. She edged round the table, pulling Naxor by the arm, and they went into her cabin. Corthie sat again, the pain in his abdomen excruciating.

‘Pyre’s arse; I need a drink.’

Sohul said nothing, his eyes revealing his alarm. He stubbed out his cigarette and got to his feet.

‘I’ll, eh, take care of the laundry now, I think.’

Corthie sat in silence as the lieutenant left the galley. For a moment, the pain passed, and he glanced around as if coming out of a trance. What was he doing? Was he trying to drive them all away? No, he lost control whenever the pain swept over him and he didn’t know what he was doing. He should apologise, but his legs felt like lead. He heard Vana’s raised voice through the thin walls of the river boat. He couldn’t make out the words, but the anger in her tone was clear. He coughed from the fug of cigarette smoke in the galley. It had been several days since he had gone out on deck, but he felt a need for fresh air, and pulled himself up. At once, his knees gave way under his weight and he toppled to the floor, sending a full ashtray and the jug of water flying.

Sohul’s head appeared at a door. ‘Are you alright?’

‘I’m fine,’ said Corthie from the floor.

‘I’ll come and tidy that up.’

‘No! No. I can manage. You’re not my nursemaid, Sohul.’

‘I know that, but you’re sick.’

‘I can manage. Leave me alone.’

Sohul frowned, then nodded and closed the door. Corthie got up onto his hands and knees, and began picking up the broken pieces of the jug, placing the fragments into a wooden bin by the galley stove. After that, he grimaced, and cleaned up the cigarette butts, his fingers slick with ash and water. He felt his gorge rise again from the stench of smoke and vomit, but held it in, his body moving automatically while his mind retreated. When he had finished, he placed both hands onto the edge of the table and got to his feet. He leaned against the table for a moment, then staggered over to the door leading to the outside deck. He climbed the narrow stairs, taking them one slow step at a time, then emerged into the brilliant sunshine of Kin Dai.

The river boat was tied up by a pier jutting out into the great estuary that ran through the centre of the city. Hundreds of other vessels were also berthed along the shore, so many, that Naxor had informed them that about a quarter of the city’s population lived aboard a boat of some kind. The sound of the gulls overhead mixed with the noise coming from the bustling wharves, where people were moving through the wide fish markets that ran along the river front. The smells were over-powering, but were better than the stench below deck. Corthie sat on the top step of the stairs, heeding the warning to keep his height inconspicuous, and watched the life of the city go past. Wooden piers stretched through the brown river water like a spider’s web, and small barges were being punted along the tight lanes that wound their way between the thick rows of houseboats. Naxor had bought the boat where they were living with the last of their money. It had been leaky and falling apart when they had first moved in, but Sohul and Van had worked for days to turn it into somewhere inhabitable, even comfortable.

Free from the stomach cramps, Corthie’s mind began to wander as if it were a beast released from captivity. Aila and Kelsey shone in his mind, and how he had let them down. If he had managed to kill the two Ascendants, then he would have found them, instead of being confined to bed, sick and in near-constant pain. But it wasn’t just Aila and Kelsey that he had failed; he had lost the Sextant, which meant that the Ascendants would have the power to obliterate the two hidden worlds. Maybe they had already done it; maybe the Holdings were in