On the Razor's Edge

by Michael Flynn

  XIV. THREE, WITH A NEW SONG’S MEASURE

  In desperate grapple the sides contend.

  Ambush and sudden death unleashed:

  Friends turned foul, the hidden fist descends,

  The goblet tinctured, the knife unsheathed.

  The long night creeps now toward the dawn

  Midst riot, betrayal, and siege.

  While death that now her leash lies loose

  Runs wild and knows no liege.

  They kept the lights low lest attention be drawn to the Official Quarter, and through the windows of the Gayshot Bo watched the Secret City burn. The flames rolled across the skyline like the waves of a molten ocean and provided the only light from the now otherwise darkened Residencies. Suppressor drones hovered in the air, bright yellow, blinkers flashing, drenching the hopeless structures with foam and water. By strange and tacit agreement, no one had targeted the fire wardens, whether from residual respect for civic order or because the wardens’ activities were futile in any case.

  “We should be out there fighting with the others,” said Magpie Three Padaborn.

  “It’s what we trained for,” Four explained.

  Domino Tight had been sitting at table with Eglay Portion pursuing a desultory game of Aches and Pains on a play deck. The room was a sort of conference lounge, with tables, chairs, racks of reference media, a holostage. In the corner, well away from the windows, Méarana sat with curled fingers playing imaginary harp strings, conjuring a grand goltraí from the depths of her being. She had always thought the Confederation irremediably evil; but there was ever a yin within the yang, and the tears on magpie cheeks were genuine.

  “We never trained for this,” Domino Tight said, by which he meant that, the chaos outside the window.

  Eglay Portion pressed a button on his game console. “Aches!” he declared. Then, to Domino Tight, “Of course we did. Treachery and betrayal were our stock-in-trade.”

  “No. I don’t mean … on the job. I mean against one another. Guard your Keep.”

  Eglay Portion grunted and bent over the holodisplay. Some pieces were immobile once placed; others moved to various rules. The rules could change. He studied his options.

  “There goes another one,” said Three.

  A heretofore-darkened portion of the skyline lit up from the flash of a bolt tank. Domino Tight sighed. “That was Tina Zhi’s Residence.”

  At that, the Technical Name appeared from a bright spark in the center of the room, her milky skin smoke smudged, her arms bundled with small objects that she tumbled onto an empty table, where they clattered and rolled. Méarana imagined a single sharp pluck on the highest string. The Name took short, gasping breaths. “But Gidula assured me…”

  “Gidula assured many people of many things,” Donovan said. “But what he assures and what he can actually deliver are two different things. He bridled the tiger; now he must ride it. What did you learn out there?”

  Tina Zhi ran a hand through her hair, leaving a streak of soot in its silver. “This is all I saved.” She spoke as if to the scattered bric-a-brac on the table. “This is all.” Then, to Donovan she said, “The boots are in it now. The district swoswai has overruled the Lord Protector and ordered all Protectors into the military cadre. Obdurate Protectors have been fired upon, and some have joined the Shadows.” She shook her head, her whole body. “Rumor claims that Ekadrina and Oschous have combined against Dawshoo and Gidula.”

  “I knew the Fox would catch on sooner or later,” Donovan said.

  “The fight proceeds at right angles,” Tina Zhi reported. “Loyalist and rebel fight rebel and loyalist.”

  “Apparently, neither side much liked being manipulated,” the harper suggested.

  The Name turned on her and for a moment the old terror blazed in her eyes, so that they seemed almost violet. But she could not maintain the fury, and sat heavily in a nearby chair.

  Eglay Portion shook his head. “What price rebellion? What worth loyalty? It has reached the point of unreason. They fight because they have been fighting.”

  “We really ought to do something,” insisted Three.

  “What would you suggest?” asked Donovan, ostentatiously counting the room. Himself, a Name, two Shadows, five magpies, and a harper.

  “I might play a suantraí and put them all to sleep,” said Méarana when his finger came to her.

  Donovan grunted and turned back to the window, “When morning breaks, the world might be glad that there were those who stayed out of it.”

  “I don’t know,” said Three. “My knife longs for a throat. What will I say when my apprentices ask what I did in the Great Rising? ‘I sat in a lounge and played Aches and Pains with Domino Tight.’”

  “And lost,” said Domino Tight, placing a new Keep on a key locus. “What makes you think there will be apprentices? The Order is finished. The walls of the Lion’s Mouth are breached.”

  The Fudir turned to Three. “Whose throat?”

  Three waved his arm across the window view. “Whoever was responsible for this!”

  “Why, then, that would be Gidula; and there is this one thing you must know about Gidula. If you don’t go to him, then somehow he will come to you. This night’s battle has not yet begun.”

  Pyati looked up in surprise. “You can’t mean that—” And he encompassed all that transpired outside the Official Quarter. “—is no more than a diversion!”

  Magpie Two was monitoring the building’s security. “Motion on the roof,” he announced. “Wait one. False positive. No further signal.”

  Donovan tossed his head, and Number Four left the room so silently that Méarana had to check to make sure he was gone.

  “I don’t understand,” said Domino Tight, “why the Names have not winkled to other worlds.”

  “With what guarantee?” asked Méarana. “The Old Home-Stars may be as happy with Dao Chetty’s fall as they once were with Terra’s. Leap for help and this fight may yet spread.”

  Domino Tight shook his head. “Too many stayed to be killed. It cannot all be for love of death.”

  The Fudir nodded to Tina Zhi. “Tell them.”

  “It’s Technical. They would not understand.”

  Méarana, listening from the corner, decided that Tina Zhi did not understand, either. She had learned certain things by rote, nothing more. “You only have a few such devices,” the harper guessed, “and you don’t know how to make more.”

  Pyati turned from the window. “I’m afraid,” he announced, and clapped his arms around his body. “I cannot explain it. But a deep, unreasoning fear grips me.”

  Magpie Five nodded. “I feel it, too.”

  None of the others were brave enough to admit this, but Méarana noted how the Shadows stirred and even Donovan buigh appeared uneasy. She felt it herself: a vague disquiet verging on flight. She shivered and crossed her arms over her shoulders. The air held a cold whiff of peppermint.

  She smiled. “Company is coming.”

  * * *

  Oh, indeed, it was. Inner Child noticed that some shadows in the darkling steets below were moving. he told the others.

  “Coming here?” said the Technical Name. “To assassinate me? But I supported the Revolution!”

  “How would they know you were here,” the Fudir asked, “and not in a greasy pall of smoke in the air above your Residence? No. Yon Shadows are not coming for you, but for the Vestiges.”

  “Well,” said the Technical Name in a stern voice, “they cannot have them. The Gayshot Bo regulates their use.”

  “I don’t think they intend to ask your consent.”

  Three made an exasperated sound. “Four left the hallway door open when he went to check the roof.”

  But the Pedant knew that Four had done so such thing. He flashed the headcount … Still nine. But that meant …

  The Fudir sighed. “Greystroke, my old friend. How long have you been standing here?”

  The ninth man, garbed in a nondescript sh
enmat, shrugged. “Long enough to know you may be glad to have me. Rinty?”

  Little Hugh emerged from a corner of the room. Like Greystroke, he held a teaser, pointing down. Both stood with their backs to solid walls out of respect for Tina Zhi. Even so, every magpie’s hand dropped to his weapons belt. But Donovan held his hand out to his side with fingers splayed and they froze. Domino Tight, who alone had made no overt move, took advantage of the pause to move a piece in his game with Eglay Portion. His eyes shifted to Little Hugh. “Is Gwillgi with you?”

  The answer came with the man as more Hounds entered the room, spacing themselves. Four was with them—not a prisoner, but not looking very happy, either. Bridget ban entered last of all. She always knew how to make an entrance.

  The Fudir grinned at her. “What kept you?”

  The Red Hound glanced past him, found Tina Zhi. “We are not here as your enemy. We have come for two things only. My daughter—and a glance at your Vestiges.”

  “The daughter you may have,” said Tina Zhi. “It was not I who needed her. But to look on the Vestiges is not permitted. The sacred is not for the gawping eyes of the profane; and if I will not permit the approaching Shadows to see them, why would I permit the Hounds?”

  “Red Hound,” said Greystroke, with a nod toward the widow. “This may not be the proper time to quarrel.”

  Ravn Olafsdottr danced into the room. “Doonoovan, my sweet! How perfect to see you once more! How is your heads holding up?” She crossed to the window, peered out from a corner. “Enemy reach Spring Garden Street,” she said in Manjrin. “Best prepare welcome. Helloo, Doominoo! I kiss you later.” She turned to Bridget ban. “And might I suggest,” she added, “we bury hatchets for time being? Time enough afterward, we bury each other.”

  “Who is coming?” the Hound asked.

  “Gidula,” said the Fudir, earning Bridget ban’s attention at last. “He has been playing factions against one another. Shadow against Shadow, Shadows against Names. He has a mad dream of restoring the ancient aristocracy of the Lion’s Mouth.”

  “Is it so mad as all that?” asked Eglay Portion with a gesture toward the flames. “Better dreams past than nightmares present.”

  “How many with him?” the Fudir asked Ravn. “Did you get a count?”

  “Did I not tale you that we would be great friends soomday? Today is that happy day! We celebrate later. Gidula has three Shadows with him: Big Jacques, who was with the rebels, and Aynia Farer, and Phoythaw Bhatvik, who was Ekadrina’s adviser. A score of magpies escort them: comets, tridents, lions, and crows. Oh, and they have a Name.”

  Donovan looked up. “Which?”

  “Secret Name. He who give you bad haircut.”

  Despite nine resolutions to the contrary, the Fudir’s hand went to his scalp. “You recognized him?”

  “I recognize his golden masque: the all-concealing Sun. He alone is never seen, even by other Names, so he is recognized by not being recognized.” She leaned toward Donovan and added in a stage whisper, “Is why they call him ‘Secret’.”

  Donovan turned to the Technical Name. “Could he leap directly into the building?”

  Tina Zhi vanished, startling some of the Hounds. An unlooked-for answer, but the Sleuth understood immediately her purpose.

  Meanwhile, Donovan had been revising their defensive strategy. Certain things problematical with nine became more achievable with eighteen. “Can we count on you?” he asked Bridget ban. “They will think the building abandoned. The staff minions have fled out through the Red Gate into the Lower City, and the building’s Protectors have been drawn into the fighting. We can take them unaware when they enter.”

  “Our orders are to avoid involvement.”

  “Yes, but involvement has not avoided you. To stay out of it, you must withdraw; and if you withdraw, you get no glimpse of the Vestiges.”

  Bridget ban drew a great breath. “Lackaday. I came for my daughter, an’ I’ll nae place her in danger for the sake of a few prehuman geegaws and baubles. Come wi’ me, Méarana. I’ll summon Grimpen down to the rooftop. He is masqued as an Information Ministry skycar. No one has fired upon them yet, but I’ll nae wait until they do so. Tilly, Greystroke, we’re pulling out.”

  The other Hounds hesitated. The harper put on her stubborn look. “I came to rescue Father. I’ll not run off and leave him.”

  “The way he ran off and left you on Terra? Show some sense, lassie.”

  “Listen to your mother,” Donovan told her. “It’s unlikely all of us will emerge from this fight; less so if the Hounds won’t help.”

  Méarana stuck her chin out. “I’m not inexperienced in a fight,” she reminded him.

  “This is not a mob of ’Loons or tribesmen from the boonies of Enjrun.”

  But the harper crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. “Then you come with me.”

  The silence of the Shadows and magpies filled the room. The Fudir glanced at his followers and shrugged. “I have my own duties.” Behind him, Pyati brushed a tear from his cheek.

  “Well,” said Matilda of the Night. “Come to that, I came for the geegaws, which is how Black Shuck secured our Kennel authorization. So I ought to stay and hazard the chance.”

  Gwillgi shrugged. “And my posted duty is to observe the Shadow War. This seems as reasonable an observation post as any.”

  Little Hugh said, “The Fudir an’ I, we started out together, on the hunt for January’s Dancer. I don’t see why we shouldn’t end it together.”

  Greystroke rolled his eyes, said nothing, but did not move toward the door.

  “Graceful Bintsaif?” said Bridget ban.

  “Aye, Cu?”

  “An’ I gave the order, would ye be throwin’ my thickheaded bairn o’er yer shoulder an’ cart her tae the roof?”

  “Aye, Cu. If you gave the order.”

  Bridget ban turned to the door just as Tina Zhi returned, entering in the normal fashion from the hallway. “I have damped the field,” the Technical Name said. “Even those with tokens can no longer leap.”

  “Oh. Well,” said Bridget ban, “that makes all the difference in the world.”

  * * *

  Eglay and Domino had shut down their game and the Fudir used the play deck to project an image of the kill space. “I’ve highlighted the Cache, where the Vestiges are kept,” he said. “We have to assume that Gidula and the Secret Name know the location, and will go straight there. We don’t know which entry they will take—”

  “They will take each entry,” said Ravn. “They will come as water comes, through every channel.”

  Donovan studied the building plan, though he and the Sleuth and Inner Child had been considering options ever since the Child had spotted the approaching party. He pointed. “Three, Four, and Five, disable the drop-wells, force them onto the stairs. Plant traps to rake the stairwells, but with the triggers near the top so we catch as many as possible. Greystroke, take Little Hugh, and Matilda. You three are the most accomplished at camouflage. Wait near the main entrance, allow the enemy to pass, then follow behind, picking off stragglers. Matilda, salt the lobby and stairwells with fear. Shadows and Names will not run, but they might advance less boldly.”

  “What of me?” asked Pyati.

  “The enemy will gather at these two points,” the Fudir said, “and converge on the Cache from both ends of the building. Eglay, you take the east wing; Pyati, take the west. Domino, you take this choke point, where the main stairs come up. Take one magpie apiece. Pluck some fruit, then withdraw to this line. Draw them in as far as possible before pruning. Once they trigger the stairwell traps, they will know the building is defended and will act accordingly. Keep them complacent as long as you can. Our advantage is that we know their destination.”

  “Little good will it do them,” said the Technical Name. “The Cache is unbreakable.”

  The Fudir shook his head. “They will not have come all this way under these circumstances without some plan to effect entrance.�
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  “Likely, the Secret Name intended to leap into the Cache; but that way is now blocked, thanks to my timely technical action.”

  “Gidula leaves no contingency unplanned. Is there a hidden way into the Cache?”

  “If there were,” said Tina Zhi, “neither Gidula nor the Secret Name would know of it.”

  In other words, said the young man in the chlamys, there is a hidden way. Right, agreed the Sleuth. If the Cache is sealed and she went in to deactivate the leaping tokens, how did she get out? So: If Gidula knows the way, he must have learned of it from one of the College. The Virgins were sworn to secrecy. And two years ago he began to urge the attack on the Secret City and—perhaps, plan the decimation of Names and Shadows alike.

  “Gidula kidnapped one of your Virgins about two years ago,” Donovan said, “and tortured her into revealing the hidden entrance.” Once again, Tina Zhi’s body language was louder than her denial.

  “We only know that Beata disappeared,” she admitted, “not that Gidula was behind it.”

  Together, Donovan and Bridget ban bent over the holomap of the building.

  “This room above the Cache…,” the Hound said, pointing.

  “A fane,” Donovan told her, “dedicated to the Daemon Muse.”

  “Where the College conducts its private rites,” said Tina Zhi. “None else may enter.”

  Then that is where the hidden entrance is concealed, said the Sleuth.

  “And Gidula kept it in his pocket until he could use it,” said Bridget ban. “Do you mean he instigated this entire battle as a cover?”

  The Fudir nodded. “You have tantalized the other Names,” he said to Tina Zhi, “with dribs and drabs: the leaping tokens, the sparkle armor, the accelerated healing. You can understand how a certain cupidity might overcome them. They tire of golden eggs and would have the goose entire.”

  “Who!” Tina Zhi demanded. “Who else is in it?”

  “Beside Gidula and the Secret Name? No one meant to survive this night. People, when you surrender your positions, fall back to here, covering the fane. Five, to the Security Room on the top floor. Keep us apprised of movements within the building. No argument. Your role is vital, and once Gidula realizes we are are tracking him, he will send magpies to search you out. Ravn—”