As Kaiku stared, she tilted her head, and the light from nearby fell on the side of her face that had been hidden. Kaiku caught her breath. Nomoru's skin was crisscrossed with scars, thin raised tracks like ploughlines streaking her from cheek to ear and along her neck. It occurred suddenly that Nomoru was showing them to her. She looked away, perturbed by this new thought. Did Nomoru hold her responsible? Kaiku had not thought fast enough when she saw Juto squeeze the trigger to shoot Nomoru: she should have killed the momentum of the rifle ball in the air instead of blowing it apart. Even though Kaiku had scarred her in the process of saving her life, did Nomoru blame her for her disfigurement? Gods, she did not want that woman as an enemy.
But then she was slipping her shoes from her feet and kneeling on the communal mat, and Tsata indicated to his companions that they should do the same. She was in full Red Order garb now, and it armoured her against the stares of the people in the hall, against the resentful presence of the idols and the restless flitting of the spirits that whirled invisibly in the recesses, stirred by the unwelcome crowd.
The appearance of the Tkiurathi caused some whispering around the room, but they seemed oblivious. When the meeting began and formal introductions were made for the benefit of all assembled, Kaiku stood and named the Tkiurathi, explaining their presence and apologising in advance for the necessity of translating. Heth murmured her words in Okhamban to Peithre.
Refreshments were laid between them as the formalities went on, small lacquered tables of drinks and silver bowls of finger-food. Heth immediately reached for one of the morsels but was arrested by a negative glare from Tsata, and retreated. The welcomes were done as the last light bled out of the sky and left Iridima hanging in a star-speckled winter night, and it was Yugi, leader of the Libera Dramach, who put forward the reason why they were all here.
'The question before us today is simple,' he said. 'What do we do now? The stalemate has been broken, and the Weavers have the advantage. If we do nothing, they will create more of the feya-kori, and they will sweep aside our forces as they have at Juraka and Zila. As yet we have established no defence against these demons, and though we have learned something of their nature it hasn't yielded any way to hold them back. It's only because they are forced to return to their pall-pits and recuperate that they have not been able to invade the Southern Prefectures with impunity; but though we have a little time, we don't have much of it. Soon, other pall-pits in other cities will be operational. If we can't stand against two feya-kori, what chance do we have against ten or more?'
And so the debate began. Opinions were put back and forth. Yugi mooted the option of marshalling their forces for a full-scale attack on Axekami, more to get it out of the way than because he believed it was a viable option. It was quickly dismissed by the council as foolhardy and pointless: even if they succeeded, it would leave them overstretched and vulnerable. Axekami was not the Weavers' power base, but the old Empire's, and hence it would not be a fatal blow to them; additionally, they still could not hold the city against the feya-kori, and it could be easily retaken.
'If Axekami is to be won, it must be won by the people!' Hikken tu Erinima declared, at which point Yugi called Kaiku and Phaeca to give an account of their recent movements in Axekami and how they gauged the mood of the people. It was not encouraging. Other spies that had reported to Yugi corroborated their opinion.
'We cannot allow ourselves to hope for revolt,' Cailin said. 'The scale is too big, and there is little hope against the Weavers. They can eliminate agitators at will. Without the Red Order to defend them, the people would not have a chance to organise, and there are barely enough of us to protect the forces of the Empire, let alone its citizenry as well.' Her eyes glided over the assembly. 'Passive resistance is the best we could hope for, and even then it is a slim hope. Disseminating the message would not be an easy task, and it would have to be done without the Red Order, for we dare not operate in the Weavers' cities. We cannot even allow Lucia to use her talent for dreamwalking to spy for us there. The risk is too great.'
'Then what do you propose?' Hikken demanded, barely hiding his contempt. 'Should we do nothing?'
'That is not so inadvisable as it sounds,' put in the Barakess Emira. She was a plain-faced woman somewhere near her thirtieth harvest, with dark brown hair worn long and straight. 'The Weavers' forces have seemed thinner of late. It is possible that their armies are starving due to the effects of their own blight. They are short of time, as we are. The question is, whose will run out first?'
'But our spies have been unable to confirm that their forces really are less than before,' Yugi pointed out. 'And we don't know the extent of their supplies. At best it's a guess.'
'However, if we could find some way to hold them off, to delay them, it might be enough to turn the tide,' Emira persisted.
'We have no way to hold them off,' Cailin said. 'That is the crux of the matter. The only limitation on the speed they can demolish our cities is their own need to revivify.'
'Perhaps a retreat to the mountains, then?' suggested a Libera Dramach man. 'If we cannot stand against them, we could disperse and strike at them like bandits.'
Yugi nodded. 'That's a last resort, perhaps. But I think that would be the end of us as surely as if we stood up to the feya-kori with only swords and cannon. And if the Weavers do to the Prefectures what they are doing to the territories they have already taken, then the famine will get far worse, and in the mountains there will be no food at all.'
'There is another alternative,' said Cailin. 'To strike at the witchstones.'
'It has been tried,' Hikken said. 'At Utraxxa. And it failed.'
'No,' Cailin replied. 'At Utraxxa we underestimated the Weavers. But their reaction indicates that we would have succeeded if we had been given a chance.'
'Perhaps you could explain for the benefit of our guests and our audience?' Kaiku prompted politely. The Tkiurathi had not spoken, except to mutter translations to each other. They knew little about the state of affairs in Saramyr, and were content to listen and learn.
Cailin inclined her head in acknowledgement. 'When we finally mustered the strength to assault the Weaver monastery that lay in the mountains west of here, across Lake Xemit, the Red Order had another plan in mind beyond simply destroying the witchstone there and ridding us of the blight. We intended to engage the witchstone, to learn about it. Through our own observations of how the Weavers' power grew with each stone awakened, and the information Lucia gleaned from the spirit of Alskain Mar in the Xarana Fault, we had determined that all the stones were connected in a manner similar to a net or a web. We believed that we could exploit that link, trace it to the other witchstones and destroy them, too. Instead of one victory, we would win them all at once.'
The assembly did not make a sound; only the faint sussuration of the wind could be heard. The temperature was dropping now that Nuki's light had fled the sky, settling towards a level that was cool but not unpleasant.
'We never got the chance. Just before we penetrated the chamber where the witchstone lay, it was destroyed. We can only assume that the Weavers used explosives. It was something we would never have expected them to do: they had always prized the witchstones' welfare above even their own lives. They were protecting the network by removing our way in.' She swept her gaze across the assembly then, and her tone became fiercer. 'But I say it was not a failure. We were close enough to glimpse the witchstone's nature as it came apart. Two years have passed since then, and we have not wasted that time. We have studied what we learned at Utraxxa, and we are more ready than ever now to engage a witchstone again. And this time we will destroy them all.'
Kaiku felt a thrill at the determination in her voice. Gods, the promise of action after so long in hiding or retreat or stalemate was enticing to her.
'And how do you propose to stop yourself becoming… cut off, as before?' Mishani asked.
Cailin settled herself again. 'The Red Order have reconstructed the network we observed between the
witchstones and examined it. There is no stone that cannot be sacrificed, but there is one which will seriously damage the structure if it falls: the hub, if you will. As the Nexuses are the anchor for the beasts they control, so this stone is the anchor for the other stones. The Weavers had plenty of time during our long assault on Utraxxa to prepare explosives. But I think they will be much more reluctant to destroy their hub, the most powerful node of them all. And if we catch them by surprise, they may not have time to destroy it. If we can get to it intact, we can use it as a way in to the network, and reach all the witchstones in one swoop.'
Kaiku's skin prickled at the thought. Was there a chance, even so slim, that they could end this? She had not been at Utraxxa, having been reluctantly kept back by Cailin, but she had heard of the horrors that her brethren had experienced within. Could it be done? To go through the veins of their power structure, spreading like a virus?
'Do you know this, or is it merely conjecture?' Hikken asked. He was a prickly middle-aged man, with a deeply-etched face and prematurely grey hair, and his manner of speaking was aggressive and confrontational.
'It is conjecture,' Cailin admitted, spreading her hands to indicate helplessness. 'But it is based on very educated guesswork. We have seen how these stones operate. This is not a wild theory, nor would we be rushing at this blindly. If it were to be done, it would be our second attempt, and we would not make the same mistakes twice.'
'Where is this… anchor-stone?' It was Tsata who spoke.
'It is the first stone that was awakened,' Cailin replied. 'The one that started it all. It lies beneath the mountain monastery of Adderach.'
Hikken laughed rudely. 'And how do you propose we get to Adderach? Even if it were not deep in the mountains, it is surely the most fiercely guarded stronghold the Weavers have!'
'That is also conjecture,' Phaeca put in. 'We have no idea what awaits us at Adderach. Nobody has ever been there. I may remind the council that several times we have found the Weavers rely too much on their shields of misdirection and not on physical guards.'
'Those were in the days before the Red Order became known to them,' Mishani said.
'But they may think themselves protected by the mountains,' Phaeca argued. 'They may not be able to get enough food to such a remote place to sustain an army. Who knows what the Weavers think?'
'There are many ways to Adderach,' said Cailin. 'But none of them are easy.'
'And you think the Weavers will not notice an army marching towards Adderach?' Hikken cried. 'How exactly do you intend to do it?'
'We go quietly,' Cailin replied. 'And we-'
'This is pointless!' Lucia said suddenly. She had been customarily distracted up until this point, but she appeared entirely focused now. At the sound of her voice, everyone in the hall fell silent and looked to where she knelt.
'Pointless,' she repeated, softer this time. When she spoke, it was with surety and conviction, and she sounded like her mother the Empress. 'Even if we did attack Adderach, even if we succeeded, in our absence the Weavers would cut a swathe through the Prefectures and cause such murder as would make any victory too costly. And if the Weavers discovered our plan, they need only send one of the demons to defend Adderach and all would be lost. Whatever our other intentions, we need to be able to tackle the feya-kori. And the only way to stop an entity like that is with a similar entity.'
She stood up, and when she spoke, her voice was stronger than Kaiku would have believed possible from such a slip of a woman.
'It has been ten years since I was taken from the Imperial Keep in Axekami. Ten long years, and in that time there has been more blood shed for me than I dare think of. You have placed such hope in me and I have given you nothing in return but death. Now the time has come to live up to your expectations.'
She paused for a moment, and Kaiku noticed that even the spirits had quieted, and the ancient attention of the idols was on her. Do not say it, Lucia, she thought. Do not do this.
'A friend once told me I was an avatar, placed here by the gods to do their will,' she continued. 'I do not know. But I know this: we can face these demons and beat them, but we can only do so with the aid of the spirits. The entities that have lived in this land since long before we ever came here. If the Weavers can raise an army of such beings, then so can I.' She took a breath, and there was an infinitesimal tremor as she drew in the air, the only flicker of uncertainty that she showed.
'I will go to the oldest and most powerful spirit that our lore knows, deep in the heart of the Forest of Xu. I will speak with that spirit, and rouse it to our banner. The soul of the land will rise to its own defence.' Her voice was rising to a crescendo now. 'We shall make such war as the gods themselves will tremble to see it!'
The explosion of noise from the crowd was earsplitting. Cheers and cries of support rang around the hall and floated up into the night sky. This was the sign they had waited for all this time: the call to arms, the moment when their saviour would enter the fray and turn the tide. They did not care whether such a plan was even feasible; all that mattered was that Lucia had taken a hand, and with that, she had become the leader they had so desperately needed.
But though the people around her rejoiced, Kaiku was silent. She knelt where she was, and looked up at where Lucia stood, so terribly frail in the face of this riotous adulation. A battle had been lost today. Lucia was theirs now, irrevocably; she had forsaken her last chance of turning away.
As if sensing her thoughts, Lucia's eyes met hers, and in them was such sorrow as made Kaiku want to weep.
FOURTEEN
After that, there was little else to say.
The assembly dispersed with a sense that things had been left unfinished. Lucia's announcement had effectively ended the conference. Kaiku saw Cailin muttering into Yugi's ear, and she suspected that the seeds of action put forward today had only just begun to germinate. But diplomacy was not her strong suit, and she was content to leave it to people like Mishani, who appreciated the subtleties. She looked around for Nomoru, still worried about the scout's intentions, but could not find her in the crowd. Instead, she led Tsata and the Tkiurathi out of the temple and into the cool night beyond.
'We will go with you, if you will have us,' Tsata said to Kaiku, as they came to the edge of the complex where the trail ran back towards the Tkiurathi village.
He was assuming that she would not let Lucia follow this course alone. And what was worse, Kaiku reflected, was that he was probably right.
'Xu is no ordinary forest,' Kaiku said. 'The spirits hold sway there, and have done since before my people ever set foot on these shores.' Her eyes were grave. 'There is no more dangerous place in all of Saramyr for our kind.'
'The more reason for you to take us,' said Tsata.
Kaiku felt too weary to try and argue. She thanked them all – though she suspected by Tsata's expression that she did not need to – and bade them farewell, leaving the offer open. She was not the one to make such decisions, and she had no intention of bearing the responsibility for their deaths inside the Forest of Xu. Only the gods knew what awaited them in there.
It occurred to her, as she walked back to her house in the Libera Dramach village downslope of the temple complex, that she was already thinking about the journey in terms of when she went, rather than if.
Heart's blood, where did all my choices go? she thought in a morose moment, then snorted with disgust at her own self-pity.
She shared a house with Mishani here at Araka Jo as she had in the Fold, though the two of them were rarely there at the same time, as turned out to be the case tonight. She presumed Mishani had gone elsewhere with other members of the assembly to continue their discussions privately. The house was near the building where the Red Order met and where most of the Sister had their rooms, but Kaiku had not felt comfortable with the idea of living there as Phaeca did: it felt too much like surrendering a part of herself. The place was relatively nondescript and a little cold in the wintertime, but Ka
iku had given up on the idea of having a stable home at least until the war was over, and as long as she had a roof and a private space she was happy.
It felt empty tonight. She slid the outer door closed behind her and listened to the darkness for a time. Outside, night-insects were chirruping and clattering. She walked through to her bedroom. The glow of the lanterns rose gently as flames kindled in their wicks at her passing, sparked by a small and frivolous use of her kana. Cailin would have disapproved. Kaiku didn't care.
Her bedroom was small: she only came here to sleep. There was a comfortable mat of woven, springy fibres, upon which was laid a thick blanket, and then a further blanket on top of that. Simple, unadorned, utilitarian. On the wall facing the curtained doorway was a mirror, an old one of Mishani's; she caught her reflection, and thought how well the make-up of the Order hid the melancholy mood that had descended on her. Even now, she projected a certain aura of authority and aloofness. On the far side of her sleeping-mat were a pair of chests flanking a dressing-table with another mirror, and on one wall hung a scroll with a verse from Xalis, another donation from Mishani. Kaiku was terrible at decorating: it seemed so unimportant to her. Her interest was not in material things.
She had sat down at her dressing-table and was preparing to remove her make-up when she spotted the Mask. She saw it over the shoulder of her double in the small vanity mirror, leering at her from where it hung on the wall, and it startled her so badly that she jumped with a yelp and sent little wooden pots of lip-paint scattering noisily to the floor. She stared at it, meeting its empty gaze in the mirror. It stared back at her.
Her skin crawled. She could not remember putting it up there.
She got up and slowly walked over to it. Its face of red and black lacquer was mischievous, mocking.
'Gods curse you,' she whispered to it. 'Leave me be.'
She took it down from where it hung on the wall. The contact of her hand brought a faint sense-memory of her father, the indefinable warmth of his presence. She bit back tears and put the Mask back in its chest.
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