Chris Humphreys [Humphreys - Smoke in the Glass

To Karim and Amanda

GOLLANCZ

LONDON

Contents

Maps

Corinthium:

Ferros

Ashtan

Megaloumos

General Olankios

Lara

Aisha Laras younger sister

Gan, Tutor Timian monk of the Southern Xan tribe

Mikon ships captain, Arcrana Isles

Streone Lascartis Innovator of the Great Theatre

Lascartis, Gonarios, Trebans old families of the city

Lucan Leader of Council of Lives

Roxanna his daughter

Graco Lucans servant

Maltarsus workers leader

Marya his wife

Andropena whore

Parkos general

Carellia former whore

Gandalos Cuerdocian officer

Smoke

Caradocius legendary leader of the northern (forest) Wattenwollden tribes

Stephanos young man at cult ceremony

Traxia old woman at cult ceremony

Ometepe:

Atisha

Intitepe

His daughters:

Tolacca priestess, 300 years old

Sayana Youngest, 70 years old

Amerist Warrior, 150 years old

Asaya Atishas childhood friend

Old Gama

Fant dog

Saroc priest king, immortal

Nak mountain guide

Bok guide

Poum the One

Muna governess of the City of Women

Besema formerly the One

Natara maiden of the marana

Yutil formerly the One

Novara formerly the One

One-eared Salpe warrior

Ravaya maiden in city

Tokat Intitepes commander at City of Women

Santepe last defeated son

Midgarth:

Luck

Freya

Hovard

Bjorn Swift-Sword

Einar the Black

Agnetha

Stromvar

Gytta Lucks wife

Ulrich the Smith

High Priest

Peki Asarko

Petr the Red

Ut the Slayer

Four Tribes:

Priests:

Anazat High Monk

Alon assassin

Hunters:

Gistrane (in Ometepe)

Karima huntress

Korshak Horse Lord

Serimaz:

To Horse Lords, he was Wind Rider

To Seafarers, Shield from Storms

To Huntresses, Moonlight Hunter

To Priests, The One before the One

In the time before what some in their own tongue would call the cataclysm, and others the awakening, the planet was divided into four worlds.

Separated by unclimbable mountains and by unsailable seas, for many thousands of years the people who lived in each world knew nothing of any other, thought that they ruled the planet alone. Yet eventually in every world there was a story that linked them all: of a visitor who fell from the sky or who came from the ocean, half a millennium before our present days.

The visitor brought gifts. Gifts that many, in their own tongue, would call curses.

The one who came appeared differently to the different peoples as man, woman or child. Was called Gudrun Gift Bearer in the North, Andros the Blind in the South, Tasloc Wave Rider in the West. And the first gift given, but only in three of the worlds, was immortality. A small number amongst them would be born and live for ever. They would discover it only upon their death and their rebirth. It could be neither chosen nor willed. Old men and young, women and babes, it could come to any. It was not inherited, although from time to time immortals did bear immortals. Most would watch in sadness as the one theyd married when young or the baby theyd given birth to grew grey, passed them and died. Thus everywhere was immortality seen as both blessing and curse. And it changed each world utterly, according to their separate ways and customs.

The second gift the visitor gave to every immortal changed it more. For it was the gift of possession possession for a time of anothers body and life and again it was different in each of those three worlds.

In the Southern lands, that would become Corinthium, immortals could possess another person, a mortal. Dissolve into them for a time, their own flesh gone, their spirit and mind transplanted. Wise men and women over the years believed that the visitor gave this gift so that immortals would themselves grow wise, having lived in anothers skin, in their minds and hearts felt their pains, learned their longings, discovering how another needed to live, so they could be as shepherds to the flock and help all to live well.

It is not what happened. For in that land it first became a sport, and then a way not to help but to control.

And thus the gift was squandered.

In the land of the North, that came to be known as Midgarth, the gift of possession was different there the immortals could possess only beasts. All that ran, flew, swam or slid on their bellies across the ground were available to them. It took but sight, a moment of sinking, before their bodies were gone and human became animal. Again, for those who first received it, it appeared to be a gift for learning. To discover, for the brief time of possession, that animals were not lesser because they did not reason as man reasoned. That each furred, feathered, scaled deserved their place in their world as man did, with as much respect. Yet here, as in the South, this gift swiftly became a game, a chance to make a tale to be told before the hearth-fire on long winter nights.

And thus the gift was wasted.

In the third world, Ometepe, one immortal killed all others before the power of possession which would be different there was discovered.

And thus the gift was lost.

Yet what of that fourth world, the largest of all worlds, itself divided into four tribes, that would be known as saghaz-a , or Land of Joy? The visitor also came to it, though much later, only a hundred years ago. There she was called azana-kesh or the one who comes before. She gave each of the scattered, warring peoples of that world a different gift. Not immortality, not possession.

Hope. Hope in the form of prophecy. Of someone who would come to unite all worlds but only if the four tribes first united themselves.

It took near one hundred years, of war and hatred. Until they were ready. When they were, azana the One was born. Not in their land. Far away. Yet by then a united people had found ways to climb unclimbable mountains, and sail unsailable seas.

Now is the age of prophecy fulfilled. Now is the age of the darkness that gives way to the light. The end of the dominion of the Immortal. The beginning of the dominion of Man.

The age of azana . The age of the One.

(From scrolls found in a cave on the mountain of Gorach. Attributed to Smoke, the Hermit)

Of the two men who lay beside each other on the ridge, watching the kidnappers camp, one was to take a mortal wound that night, the other a wound that would make him live for ever. Neither could know it, for the gods had not cursed them with the far-seeing eye. Neither would have cared if they had known. Half odds are good odds was a law they lived by in the hills of the Sarphardi, where death was so easy to come by. Both would have taken the bet and gone to grave or immortality with a gamblers accepting smile.

Neither cared about anything other than what they did next. About that they cared a great deal and because of it the two men, closer than brothers, did what they rarely did: quarrelled, in short, angry whispers.