Parvin’s eyes widened. For a moment the muscles of her jaw clenched, like bands of iron buckling beneath her skin. Then her lips parted. One word, two words, ten words…
Against her will, she told Indris everything she knew.
Indris caught the sidelong glances of those around him, but he was too preoccupied to give them much thought. Parvin had given him much to consider, though his choice was clear.
In her long recital, Parvin had revealed why she and the others had been in Fiandahariat. Corajidin apparently believed Sedefke’s lost library was here. The Sēq had been searching for this lost treasure since the fall of the empire, without success. They knew the rumor it had been located in Fiandahariat, but nobody knew where Fiandahariat was. Many scholars had given up on the theory Sedefke had left his works there, searching instead for the semimythical Eternal Library of Kamujandi. Parvin confessed she had been ordered to look for anything resembling a library, as well as anything she or her soldiers thought could be a weapon. Indris had hung his mind on the Possibility Tree, calculated possibilities until they were either impossible or probable. Often there was more than one right answer, or course of action, that would lead to a desired outcome. When there were many right answers, sometimes there was one that was more right than others. In this case, there would have been few treasures as coveted by Corajidin as Sedefke’s treatise on Awakening.
There was more, equally troubling. A Torque Spindle! The Erebus with the ability to make armies in weeks, not years. The very thought of a Destiny Engine existing in the city caused his mind to reel. Sedefke’s great library and a Destiny Engine: no wonder Corajidin had plunged a nation into war! Given enough time and the right knowledge, Corajidin could have manipulated the future into virtually anything he desired. In Indris’s studies of Sedefke’s work, the ancient scholar had spoken of how the Rōm had been fascinated with the concept of trawling through advantageous futures, then manipulating events to ensure the optimal result came to pass. Indris suppressed a shudder at the thought.
Parvin had mentioned other things, also dangerous though of less consequence. Storm-rifles and storm-pistols, ancient tomes and scrolls, chests they had been unable to open. Some of the booty had been taken by ship to ruins in the Marble Sea, there to be loaded aboard Erebus-owned wind-galleys or merchant ships. Some had been sent straight to Erebesq. The most precious samples had been taken to Amnon, where Wolfram and Brede could study them. All she knew of Omen’s fate was that Belamandris had taken the Wraithjar to Amnon, as a gift for his father.
Indris looked up, a hand across his eyes to shade himself from the midday sun. He could feel the higher disentropic tides lap around him. Changeling purred, sending a vibration up his spine from where she was sheathed across his back.
“Ekko?” Indris said, “Do your Tau-se know where the Erebus kept their boats?”
“There is a small dock on the eastern side of the ruins. There are a number of felucca, as well as a galley.”
“How many of the Lion Guard survived?”
“There are twenty in good enough condition to fight,” he said proudly. “And another seven who will recover from their wounds in time. Nineteen of us fell, though they will be remembered as heroes to their prides.”
Nineteen Tau-se dead out of less than fifty, yet they had stood against more than two hundred Erebus soldiers and Fenlings, as well as the likes of Brede, Wolfram, and Belamandris. Indris hoped future monarchs of the Avān kept good relations with the Tau-se. He would not want to go to war against them.
“Get the Lion Guard together, including the wounded and dead. Take them to the docks. Assign some to crating and carrying the Sepulchre Mirror, too. I don’t want to leave that lying around for idle hands to find.”
“What about the prisoners?” Both Ekko and Hayden gazed speculatively at Indris.
“Today was the Lion Guard’s victory, Ekko. I leave the fate of the prisoners in your hands.”
It had not taken long for the Tau-se to make their preparations. Even the wounded had loped with customary Tau-se speed when the order was given. The plaza of the Star Clock resumed its quiet, broken only by the drone of cicadas and the distant cry of fishing eagles.
Parvin had screamed at Indris to release them as he had promised.
“I told you no harm would come to you,” Indris said. Parvin nodded in agreement, her gaze furious. “But that was contingent on your cooperation.”
Her expression collapsed. “I’ll ensure Asrahn-Corajidin has you punished for this. You’ll be lucky to keep your flesh on your bones!”
“You can discuss that with the Fenlings, when they emerge from their nests,” Ekko said tonelessly. “We do not have the numbers to leave any behind to guard you, nor can we let you go. We Tau-se believe in nemembe. That we get back from the world threefold what we give it, both in kindness as well as suffering. No doubt you will find yourself treated with the same courtesy you extended to the Fenlings. If you are fortunate, they will deal with you better than you and they dealt with my people.”
To Indris’s relief the galley was a merchantman, smaller and lighter than a warship, with a single bank of oars. Any harbor on the Marble Sea might see a score of such vessels in any day. It was the perfect smuggler’s vessel.
“Amonindris,” Ekko said reasonably, “there is no way even the Tau-se can row a galley faster than a wind-skiff can fly. How do you expect to catch them?”
Indris had briefly considered spending more time searching Fiandahariat for a Weavegate. The Seethe had once used them, as had others of the Elemental Masters, to travel vast distances via the Drear in the blink of an eye. But as the Drear had darkened, use of the Weavegates had become more dangerous. Only a very strong mind could dare a Weavegate and hope to maintain their sanity when they emerged on the other side. Had he been alone he would have attempted it, but to shield the minds of so many from the horrors they would encounter was not something he dared try.
“There are a few options.” Indris inspected the galley. “Though only one suits our purpose. We’ll fly, too.”
“We’ll fly?” Hayden chuckled.
“I’m not kidding.” Indris laughed along, then the smile fell from his face. “Now get on the boat, will you?”
Hayden stopped laughing, though did as he was asked. Indris followed quickly. No sooner was his boot on the deck than the Tau-se hauled the gangplank aboard.
Indris looked out across the reed-and-lily-choked port, where stone pylons were smeared with the gray-green of old moss and high tide. Ancient trees nodded over placid waters. Their roots had raised hummocks in the emerald grasses in which grew tiny star-shaped purple flowers. Behind them towered the buildings of the Time Masters, their colored glass eyes staring in silent contemplation of a world that had mostly forgotten them.
He walked to the prow, where he drew Changeling. She vibrated in his hand, though her croon was soft, as if even she were fatigued by all he had asked of her.
“I’ve more to do,” he murmured to Changeling. “And I need your help. I’ve never tried anything like this before and need you to keep me strong. This may kill me otherwise.”
It seemed as if Changeling thrust her own chisel point into the deck, rather than Indris’s hand doing so. She flared with a corona of pearl-tinted light. The wood around where she had planted herself glowed like the embers in a bright hearth. Indris gasped as disentropy flooded through his body. Fatigue was sluiced away.
“Thank you.”
He opened himself to the ahmsah. Eddies of disentropy swirled about his feet, as if he kicked up ancient and invisible sediment. He fancied it pulled at him, wanted him to remain immobile, forever part of the world in a single moment of communion. Indris held his hands out at his hips, fingers spread, palms downward as his Disentropic Stain flared. Colors became brighter. Images sharpened so much he could make out the individual splinters in the wood grain at his feet. He watched the currents of disentropy flow from plank to nail to plank of the deck at his feet. Dow
n, down, down to the green-mantled darkness of the water, filled as it was with myriad lives, which in their turn fueled the world with disentropy of their own.
Numbers cascaded though Indris’s mind. The formulae of cause and effect slotted into the words used to express them. A vista of questions and answers spread in three dimensions across his mind. Where the numbers made no sense, or he could not find the words to express them, the cool calm of Changeling’s presence helped slot missing pieces into place. Together they strung together form from chaos. Reoriented strings of numbers and thoughts so their pieces fit together in the picture puzzle he created.
He chanted the Greater Kinesis.
The galley shuddered. He paid scant attention to the yowls of protest from the Tau-se. Part of him registered Hayden’s pallor as the boat gave out a deep groan of protest. Indris felt as if his head would implode as the massive ship settled back into the water. Changeling burned. The deck at his feet was hot through the soles of his boots.
Again, Changeling urged him without words.
The galley lurched as it rose from the embrace of the water.
Indris felt the weight of the galley and its passengers compress his Disentropic Stain. For a moment he felt as if he would be crushed. His mind, body, and soul, aided by Changeling’s barely audible corrections to disentropic ebb and flow, withstood those first moments of pain. More smoothly now, the galley rose from the water, higher, then higher again, until it crested the surrounding walls and white-tiled roofs.
“Hold on to something,” he urged his passengers.
Indris flexed disentropy as easily as he would the muscles of his own body. Slowly at first, then with gathering speed, the galley sped away from Fiandahariat, northeastward toward Amnon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Should one day all the people I love decide to hurl themselves into the Elder Darkness, I could never follow. I will have gone before them, through what trials as there may be, to save them where they fall. Love is the greatest loyalty. It should be bound neither by limitations of energy, sincerity, nor willingness.”—from The Values, quotes by Kemenchromis, Sēq Magnate and Arch-Scholar, 3rd Year of the Awakened Empire
Day 325 of the 495th Year of the Shrīanese Federation
Mari watched her father, brother, and the others board their wagons. Her thoughts went out to Indris and his friends. She chewed on one knuckle, anxious to see him again. She also wanted to see Ariskander. To have some sign their folly had proven fruitful, rather than the beginning of the end for them all.
She heard rough scratching from behind the wall of her chamber. Mari prowled to the hidden door panel from where the noise originated. She manipulated the opening mechanism, then stepped back. The panel gave a slight pop, then slid inward and sideward.
“Come out where I can see you!” she ordered.
“It’s Qamran!” The Feyassin poked his dust-grimed head through the portal.
“How did you find me?” Mari snapped. “More importantly, why are you still here? I asked you to leave—”
“Something’s happened to Pah-Vahineh.” His voice rasped from the bruising she had inflicted yesterday.
“Go back to her! I’ll follow.”
Mari took a few moments to change into a fresh tunic, trousers, and boots. In case Qamran planned a trap, she held her sheathed amenesqa in her hand as she entered the hidden passage and took the gloomy twists and turns that led her to the room she had left Vahineh and Qamran in.
Qamran had left the secret door open. Mari strode into a room furnished much like her own. It had been turned into a storeroom of sorts, for the spare belongings of the blood royal and their senior staff. Armal’s belongings had been moved here, as well as many of the other belongings that had not been unpacked.
She made her way cautiously to the bedchamber. Qamran knelt beside a sweat-streaked, twitching Vahineh. Mari cursed under her breath as she rested a hand on the stricken woman’s brow. It was not fevered. Her eyes were closed. The lids twitched. Her lips moved in silent speech.
“When did this happen?” Mari wiped the sweat from Vahineh’s brow with the edge of the sheet.
“Only moments before I came to you. I’ve been told about this. She is being Awakened, isn’t she?”
“We were all told the signs.” Mari drew Qamran back from the bed. “How did you manage to find me? Were you and she planning a knife in the dark for me? For my family?”
“I’m Feyassin, remember?” He looked about the room. “We’re trained to know everything about everywhere we’re expected to protect our charges. Much like you, I looked, and where I looked, I found.”
“You put yourselves, not to mention me, at risk. If you get caught sneaking around the villa…”
“Did you tell the truth…about those others who are trying to put an end to the bloodshed?”
“Of course!” Mari shook her head. “Why is it so hard for you to believe I’m trying to do the right thing? Vashne is dead. Wishing it otherwise and a copper ring might buy me a meal. I’m trying to act for tomorrow.”
“And forget yesterday?” he accused.
“There’s little we can do for her, Qamran.” Mari did not have the inclination to fence with the other man. “Keep her comfortable and quiet. If she survives the process, she’ll rise soon enough and we’ll know who we’re dealing with.”
Almost an hour passed before Qamran rose from where he sat. “I’ll prepare for us to depart. Its unlikely she’ll be in any condition to—”
“We’ll do what we came here to do.” Vahineh’s voice was harder than Mari remembered it. Her eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost absorbed the iris. Her expression settled into one of studious melancholy Mari knew well.
Qamran bowed. “I’m at your command.”
“You have ever been my faithful soldier, Qamran.” Vashne’s eyes in Vahineh’s face came to rest on Mari. “More so than others I had come to rely upon.”
“I’m here, aren’t I, Vahineh?” Mari wondered for a moment how it would feel to be possessed of so many lives with their experiences, both fair and foul, all at once. “It is Vahineh I’m speaking with?”
“I’m Vahineh.” The girl nodded, expression bland, intonation that of a confused young woman. “And so much more. The voices in my head…the memories, visions of so many things, like too many quick fish in a churning pond—”
“Vahineh, you need to remember who you are and why you’re here.” Mari knew she needed to give Vahineh some way to cling to her own identity, lest she be lost in the fragmented limbo of the long line of personalities that now lingered in her newly extended memories. So far as Mari was aware, Vahineh had never been given the training to compartmentalize her mind, the way an Awakened rahn needed to control the influx of images and voices in her head. The princess needed to be brought wholly to the here and now. Otherwise she could lose herself to the personalities of her Ancestors, all crammed into her head. “Why were you here, Vahineh?”
“To have my vengeance…” The voice seemed more its usual timbre.
“No. That’s Vashne talking. Why are you here, Vahineh?”
“Armal…helped kill my mother, then hunted me down and kept me prisoner—”
“Armal is dead. Remember! What else?”
“Thufan killed my wife.”
Mari slapped Vahineh on the cheek. “No! Thufan killed your mother, not your wife. Focus on what you have seen with your own eyes, Vahineh. Your mother. It was your mother Thufan killed! You were going to make him suffer, remember?”
“Yes! Make the hook-handed villain suffer. Tell him Corajidin had his son assassinated! The ruined old man will weep…yet more must pay.”
“No, Vahineh. You must rest and leave thoughts of vengeance behind.”
The princess closed her eyes and drifted away into an uneasy sleep, her eyelids flickering with the sights only her eyes could see.
“You should have no problems leaving the villa, provided she doesn’t cause a stir,” Mar
i said to Qamran once Vahineh had settled.
“She wants to stay.”
“I really don’t care,” Mari said as she headed toward the door. “You both have to leave here as soon as you can. Vahineh needs help.”
“Where are you going?”
“I need to tell Femensetri and the others what’s happened here. If Vahineh has been Awakened, we have to assume the worst.” Her mouth was dry, making it hard to say what she feared. “I think Indris and the others have failed.”
Mari was no longer there when Vahineh awoke.
“Where is she?” Vahineh snapped at Qamran.
“Gone to meet the others, to tell them of your Awakening. I must get you to safety, Your Majesty.”
“Why would I leave, when I’m here in the serpent’s nest?”
“I was told you need help.”
“And I’m telling you we stay.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty. What do you propose?”
“Can you find Corajidin’s quarters?” Vahineh’s smile was older and colder than belonged on any young woman’s lips.
“Yes.”
“Then take me.”
It was almost an hour later when Qamran gestured for Vahi to wait, his signal barely visible in the gloom. The dust made Vahi’s skin itch. Qamran quietly popped open the portal, then slid into the room beyond, his sword drawn. All was quiet. The curtains had been closed to keep the brightness of the day from the room, though pools of light billowed across the floor under the hems of curtains plucked by the breeze.
It was the work of moments to confirm Yasha was seated at a large table, upon which rested untidy hillocks of books and scrolls.
Vahi glared at the reflection of the beautiful woman in the mirror opposite where Yasha sat. Part of her quailed at what she was going to do. Her palms were moist, and her pulse thundered in her ears. Vahi had never taken a life before. She stared at the woman, almost perfect in form and feature, oddly innocent in repose at her desk.
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