by Glen Cook
Hecht said, “Remind me to see Noë and the kids before I go. If I can get away with it.”
Felske made them as comfortable as she could while Mrs. Creedon fed them.
Anna said, “I’m surprised looters haven’t torn this place apart.”
Mrs. Creedon said, “Some had the notion. The master anticipated them. Someone comes in that the house doesn’t know, it tears them apart.”
Osa Stile strolled in, made a startled sound, locked gazes with Hecht. The catamite did not look an hour older than when they had run into one another during the first siege of Antieux. He wanted to demand an explanation of Stile’s presence, then recalled that Osa had been rescued from the same cellar where Cloven Februaren had found Pella imprisoned. “Armand. You’re looking well.”
“As are you, Commander. I wonder, sir. Will the new Empress have the Righteous go on building a Holy Lands expedition?”
“Remains to be determined. Why?”
“Time spent in a lightless cell, without hope, has a way of turning one’s thoughts inward. I found a spiritual side I didn’t know I had. I would like to make the pilgrimage. I have a debt to repay a certain rascal.”
Hecht inclined his head just enough to let Stile know he understood.
“I can be useful, Commander. And I’ve overstayed my welcome here, playing to the Principaté’s residual affection.”
“Can you get to Alten Weinberg? And can you behave yourself?” Hecht could not state it explicitly but found Stile’s sexual proclivities repulsive.
“Yes to the first. To the second, honestly, I can say only probably. I have no desires at the moment but that could change.”
The catamite, shaped by sorcery to remain a boy indefinitely, had suffered bad times and bad people in order to spy for er-Rashal and Ferris Renfrow. He soldiered on.
Turking reappeared, having made remarkable time. He said Principaté Delari would arrive soon.
Pella turned up not long afterward. “Anna’s house is in good shape but three men are living there. They say Paludan Bruglioni sent them because the senate made Pinkus Ghort stop using constabularii to guard the place.”
Hecht said, “I should see Pinkus. It’s been a long time.”
“You’d do better to give up wishful thinking,” Heris said. “You might be friends with Ghort and Saluda and even Paludan Bruglioni but that doesn’t change the political environment. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re suddenly the hero of the Grail Empire, what’s been the Patriarchy’s dearest enemy for two hundred years.”
“This is what happens when you engage the world at more than a tactical level.”
“I won’t even pretend I understand what you just said. Turking, we aren’t ignoring you. We just have too much fun bickering. Did you have something besides the fact that Grandfather is on his way?”
“No. Nothing more than that, Lady.”
“Ha! You heard that, Piper. Everybody heard it. I’ve got one man so bamboozled he thinks I’m a lady.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Enough of that, children.”
Muniero Delari had arrived. Quietly. Evidently, little that he saw pleased him. He held his thoughts, joined the cook. “That looks delicious, Mrs. Creedon. I hadn’t yet eaten when Turking came. Can you stretch that to include me?”
Mrs. Creedon grunted. His question required no answer. Of course she could. He paid her wages.
The Principaté eyeballed his descendents again and was no more pleased. “Anna, your adventures have put some red into your cheeks.”
Flattery Hecht heard with no sense of threat. The old man preferred nubile boys—though he had shown little interest there since he parted with Osa Stile.
Heris growled, mood darkening by the moment. Hecht thought she might want to be told what a good job she had done with the Old Ones.
Whatever he said now would sound contrived.
Lila sensed it, too. And it was not too late for her. “You should have seen Heris, Opah. She was amazing. There were all these old-time gods and she wrapped them around her fingers. Except for the ones Anna blasted. You should’ve seen.”
Opah? That was a way of saying Grandpa, up north.
Delari did not object. This was not a first offense.
You missed the changes when you were away in the field. On the other hand, you did notice them.
Delari said, “Do tell. Heris, you amaze me. You’ve grown dramatically since Grade brought you here. Mrs. Creedon, are you ready? Yes? Let’s sit. The lamb pie smells wonderful. Lila, go on. Tell the whole story.” He eyed the other children suspiciously. They were unnaturally quiet. “Armand, you are not to repeat any of this.”
“You won’t believe me, but I never have.”
Stile had it right. Hecht believed little that he heard from the catamite. He scratched his wrist. He had not realized how all-pervasive the power was in this world.
Lila was full of surprises, lately. Her ability to tell a story was another. Vali acted as chorus, chiming in with interesting details at intervals separate enough that her interruptions were not obnoxious.
“Interesting,” Delari said when Lila finished, by which time everyone but she had filled up on lamb pie. “Quite an adventure. I envy you, Heris. I’ve never had an adventure.”
Hecht and the catamite both stared.
Osa, Turking, Felske, and Mrs. Creedon congratulated Lila on a tall tale convincingly told. It could not be true, of course. Those devil gods could not possibly exist. And she had best not tell her story where priests could hear her. The Church was a tad more tolerant now, thanks to the Commander, but the small minds of the Society had long memories.
Hecht’s amulet itched so badly that he said, “Principaté, you need to check this thing Februaren put on me. It’s driving me crazy. Oh. Never mind, then.”
Pillars of sparkle formed in the small bit of open space left in the crowded kitchen. They became Hourli and Hourlr.
Pella cracked, “Lila really can bring a story to life, can’t she?”
There could be no doubt that these were Instrumentalities of the Night.
The male twin faced Heris. “There you are. It has been difficult, tracing you. We’re feeling better, now, thank you. The magic is thin but it does still exist. A wallow in a well of power would be divine.”
Hourli faced Hecht. “Your world has grown strange, Godslayer. We are nearly forgotten.”
No one seized the moment to take a fundamentalist stand.
No one seemed to know what to say, either.
Mrs. Creedon asked, “Would you like some lamb pie?”
Hourlr replied, “If we take a mortal shape our bodies require mortal sustenance. So, yes, dear lady, I would love some lamb pie.”
Mrs. Creedon blushed.
Hourli nodded. She was willing, too.
Heris asked, “Where are the others?”
Hourlr replied. “Running free. Basking in what power there is. Seeing the changes in the world. Wondering what you did that has never been done before.”
Hecht studied the reactions of Muniero Delari’s staff. Delari himself was taking it all in stride, despite his place as a Prince of the Church.
Some religious insiders did admit that all things were possible within the Night—so long as someone believed. They strove to control that by managing the belief.
Principaté Delari mused, “Piper is entertaining heretical thoughts.” He chuckled. “Yes, Piper, some of us do understand that the Night is bigger than our one God. Most of us do. And most of us can square that with our faith. In Old Andoray they followed one family from the generation of deities known generically as the Old Gods. Only a few people believe in their existence anymore, but the Old Ones still believe in themselves, which is more important today. Overall, the Church, rather than deny what anyone with eyes can see, has reassigned the Old Ones to servitude in the house of the Adversary. As demons they can continue to exist without stealing glory from God in the Highest.”
&nb
sp; “Or you can make saints out of them if they are especially beloved.” Hourli and Hourlr sneered.
They sensed the drift of his thoughts. Hourli said, “They can’t change our nature through dogma, Godslayer. Things are not what mortals think they are but only because mortals observe with mortal eyes and with mortal hearts shaped by mortal experience. But that is of no consequence. We have a contract. It will be observed on our side. By this assemblage of Old Ones. The Shining Ones. Other revenants, and the Primal Gods, won’t be bound by our agreements.”
Heris would not be distracted. “You’re running free? How can that be? Back when you were trying to murder my brother, even the All-Father could barely touch the Grimmssons here. Once they moved south of Brothe only the Exile could stick with them.”
“Arlensul was the Exile, operating independent of the Realm,” Hourlr said. “You changed everything for the rest of us. You let us out of the Realm. You opened this whole world to us, though there are still severe limits to our range. We will explore it as much as we are able.”
Hecht demanded, “What did she do for the first time?”
“She brought the Shining Ones back free from the old constraints of belief. She believes we exist. Your eyes agree. There are fewer restrictions on us today. Freedom gained at the cost of power.”
Hecht looked at Heris. She looked back. They frowned. They had enjoyed religious upbringings, each in a dramatically different belief system. Neither understood this, here, now. It could not be hammered and filed to fit what they had been taught.
Heris asked, “You can summon the others if I need them?”
Hourlr said, “Yes, but not quickly. However, if we open the way to Raneul we can then manage to do everything at the speed of lightning.”
Accepting a second portion of lamb pie, Principaté Delari mused, “No doubt also releasing a horde of supernatural miscreants not bound by oaths sworn to my grandchildren.”
Hecht mused. The twins needed mortal help reaching their native realm?
“We have sworn,” Hourli snapped, irritated, plainly irked by the continued distrust. “We will fulfill.”
“Do you have any sense of where the others are?” Heris asked.
“Not precisely,” Hourlr conceded.
“Where is Zyr?”
Hourlr’s eyes narrowed. His gaze darted. He seemed both puzzled and inclined toward evasion.
“Well?” Hecht snapped.
Hourli blurted, as though compelled, “Here. But I can’t see him.”
Heris asked, “Hourlr?”
“I feel him. He’s watching. And he’s immensely displeased with us for revealing that fact. But I can’t see him.”
Heris looked like she was about to turn nasty. “The trickery has started already, then?”
Hecht caught her arm, squeezed, shook his head. “He hasn’t broken the rules. Remember, Instrumentalities are all about sound and fury and loopholes.”
Heris produced a hand-held. “I’ve got two ounces of silver bead loophole filler right here.”
She was close to losing control. Hecht said, “Us mortals ought to get some rest. We had to deal with a lot today.”
The twins shrugged. Hourli said, “This is a city of immense wickedness. We’ll explore it.”
“Go. Have fun. We’ll see you later.”
The twins vanished almost the same as Lila, Heris, and Cloven Februaren could.
Heris was in a mood to squabble.
“Heris, you’re too anxious. Don’t get all worked up and break the contract from our end.”
Clearly, she had not considered that. “Oh! I was on my way there, wasn’t I? They were provoking me.”
“No. They weren’t. They do mean to execute their bargain, letter and spirit, for the rest of your life. They honestly see that as advantageous.”
“How can you know that?”
Hecht shrugged. “Think. It’s the rational thing to do.”
“I don’t see it.”
“You’re looking through a lens of prejudice. Look. You got them out of Asgrimmur’s trap, then you got them out of the Realm of the Gods. Now they’re seeing that the middle world is just another, bigger prison. Mortality is the rule, here.”
“Whoa, little brother. You’re going all spooky on me.”
“They’re going to need believers. Right now all they have is us. And we don’t worship.”
“I thought them believing in each other was what freed them to go where they want.”
“Sure. Sort of. They can get to places they couldn’t go before. They might even be able to visit the Wells of Ihrian. But they still have two souls to feed.”
Everyone stared at Hecht like he had sprouted green hair.
“I’ll take your word, brother. It applies, how?”
“They’re not saying so but they need more than one kind of nourishment. The magic isn’t enough. Us accepting their existence isn’t, either. We aren’t true believers. They need worshippers to hang on to their immortality.”
His audience just stared. He continued, “Real worshippers. It’s what they want to find during one ephemeral generation as our allies, as gods who actually can be seen doing something, regularly. If they fail, their own divine mortality will overtake them. They’ll fade into the Night.”
The air stirred. Cloven Februaren rotated into being. “Excellent analysis, Piper. But I do wonder how you managed it. You’re a clever lad but you only use that to find new ways to whack on people who don’t want to do what you tell them.”
“I didn’t give it any special thought. It seemed obvious. And I still think we all need rest. We have to be fresh to cope. And I need to get back to my army, which, I’m sure, Sedlakova and the rest have let go to hell.”
* * *
Hecht slept eighteen hours. He wakened twice to urinate but stumbled right back to his cot. He still felt unready to rise when Anna poked him awake.
“Piper, you have to get up. There’s going to be trouble.”
He shook the cobwebs out. “Trouble?”
“Word is out that we’re here. Delari figures the place was watched by Night thing spies. There will be trouble. Addam Hauf will take me and the kids into the Castella again. We’ll be safe while Pinkus deals with the unrest.”
Hecht shook his head again. “We should have expected this.”
“The old men did. Which is why arrangements are in place with Hauf, Pinkus, and the Patriarch. Who really should pick a reign name if he wants the mob to take him serious.”
“Gervase doesn’t take himself serious yet. What’s the plan?”
“You eat, then Heris and Lila will take you to the Righteous. The rest of us hole up till the excitement blows over.”
“There were things I wanted to do while I was here. There were people I wanted to see.”
“There are people who want to see you, too. And they’re not your friends.”
True. He would be a tempting target while he was without the Righteous behind him. “All right. I’m up.”
“I’ll tell Mrs. Creedon.”
Hecht found Heris and Lila hovering in the kitchen while Mrs. Creedon delivered a platter to her one sound table. Mostly pork, of course. “Are you all anxious to be shut of me?”
Heris confessed, “We are. There’s ugly talk out there. Ghort doesn’t have the manpower to save you. The Brotherhood can’t help you, legally. And some people who do like you won’t lift a finger if it looks like that would help a Patriarch they aren’t so sure about.”
“I see. Pella, this means I can’t take you with me. How about you go grab my stuff? We’ll fix up something later.”
Anna caught his eye. She mouthed, “Thank you,” assuming he had found an excuse to leave the boy in safety.
Surly, Pella made the same assumption.
Cloven Februaren rotated into existence an instant after Lila rotated out. She and Heris were taking turns observing events. Februaren muttered at Heris, who nodded. Lila came back. “There’s a mob gathering in t
he Madhur Plaza. The ringleaders sound like Society types.”
“That’s pretty far off,” Heris said. “We have a while. But let’s don’t waste time. We don’t want them finding anything but booby traps when they get here. Lila, get your father out, then shift the others to the Castella.”
“Not inside,” Lila said. “Just close by. The Brotherhood would have fits if we turned up without them having to let us in.”
“Yeah. You ready, Piper?”
“Me? No.” He nearly panicked, recalling the unpleasantness of solo transitions with Heris.
She and Lila enveloped him in a hug. Lila nodded over his shoulder.
Twist.
Darkness, haunted by terrible things, none of which thought him worthy of notice. Then morning sunshine and cool air. He was in the foothills of the Jagos, outside the mouth of the Remayne Pass.
Heris asked, “That wasn’t bad, was it?”
“No. Maybe I’m getting used to it.”
“But you sound suspicious.”
“I am suspicious. The attitude of the Night toward me can’t have improved.”
“We need to put that runt Armand in a fool suit and have him follow you around telling you that you aren’t nearly as important as you think.”
“You miss picking on me when we were little, don’t you?”
“Could be.”
“My point is, the Night doesn’t think I’m important anymore. After all that trouble trying to kill me.”
“So the Night finally understands that the genie can’t be shoved back into the bottle.”
“That would be one interpretation. Giving the Night too much credit.”
“Your theory is?”
“The Night forgot me because it found you.”
“I don’t think so. Asgrimmur would’ve warned me. Lila and I need to get back. Just sit. The Righteous will be along later.”
“You plopped me down ahead of them? How am I supposed to explain that?” He tossed a look of appeal at Lila but the girl was infatuated with the view. The air was crystalline. The Jagos were dressed in magnificent grays and purples, wearing capes of pristine white. The breeze from the high slopes was cooler than the coolest morning air in Brothe. Hecht shivered.