by Jack Conner
Avery hadn’t considered that. “So what are the staircases for?”
“Who knows? The Blue Ghosts use them now, but maybe their original purpose was something else entirely. I wouldn’t be surprised if we found out what for before all this is over.” She tapped a cylinder of ash onto the floor and opened her mouth to say something more, but just then gunfire sounded. They both tensed, but the shots hadn’t come from within their glowing cave. The gunfire had come from outside, in the normal halls of the pyramid. Another burst came, then another. Shortly screams could be heard, and the rushing of feet. The commotion seemed to be coming from all over.
One of Sheridan’s hands strayed to her gun, the other still holding the cigar near her lips. “You think Triarch Nethem’s people are attacking?”
“I doubt it. He wouldn’t attack alone, and word wouldn’t have reached Triarch Sanis yet that her daughter’s dead, so she couldn’t have joined forces with him.”
“What, then?”
“I think …”
“Yes?” she said.
“I think Jivini died.”
Sheridan watched him. “Don’t tell me you killed her?”
He couldn’t help a tight smile. “I might have had a hand in it.”
“That’s wonderful! That means that once word reaches the Rim, it will belong to Layanna. But how did you do it?”
His grin faded as he described what had happened, how he’d used Ista’s conversion against the Collossum. “Killing Jivini probably helps Layanna,” he added when he had finished, “but judging by the gunfire it’s also made things more difficult for us. If I had to bet, and I might have to, I’d say the Octunggen blame the Triarch. They think he murdered her.”
Sheridan nodded. “The war was just about over, the Triarch would need to work out arrangements to surrender, but Jivini could stand in his way. At least, that’s how the Octunggen would think. She was an obstacle, and he removed it. He killed a god. Now the Octs are massacring his people in retaliation.”
More screams and gunfire sounded.
“You don’t plan to leave now, do you?” he said. “In this chaos? We’d get mown down in the crossfire.”
“Maybe. That said, chaos would be a good time for us to move.”
"I really don't think—" He groaned.
"What? What is it?"
He gritted his teeth in a humorless grin. "Now would be the time to send off a message."
"A ... message?" Understanding dawned on her face. "You mean the transmitter, don't you? You never sent the message off."
"No. But we could reach the transmitter room in the confusion."
She studied him, then seemed to think about it. At last she nodded. "Very well. You're right, of course." She allowed herself a sigh. "Damn it."
For some reason, he felt his grimace turn into a real smile. "Once more into the lion's den, eh?"
"If we must."
She showed him down several halls, then triggered a panel by pulling on a certain crystal.
"You'll have to teach me how to do that," he said.
"Later."
The panel folded away, revealing a corridor of the pyramid proper. The patter of running footsteps faded in one direction, and screams rose from another.
Avery slipped out and gestured behind him. "This way." She may be more familiar with the crystal halls, but he knew the regular ones much better than she did. Reluctantly, she followed, gun clutched closely at her side. He wished he had one, too.
He found a stair and went up it, gunfire sounding all around.
“What do the Octs have to gain with this madness?” Avery said. “I mean, surely they’re smarter than to make war against their hosts. Without the Triarch’s patronage, they’re as good as dead.”
“They’re in a holy war, Doctor. They’re willing to die. Also, from their perspective, it’s logical. They think the Triarch is now their enemy. He’s removed the source of their power, their god, so now he’d move against the rest of them. Hit them while they’re weak and disoriented. They decided to strike first. Typical Octunggen thinking.”
Avery reached the head of the stairs, then pulled back as a group of Eberlin military men ran by, shooting behind them as they went. Octunggen troops fired back around the corner.
"We'll have to go around," Avery said.
"No time," Sheridan said. "We need to get this done and get out of here." She jerked a grenade from her belt—he hadn't even noticed it before—pulled the pin with her teeth and flung it toward the corner the Octunggen hid behind. The two braced themselves as the bang rocked the corridor, then darted out from cover. Smoke rose from the direction of the Octunggen, and dead bodies sprawled on the floor. There was no sign of the Eberlins, but more shooting and shouting could be heard from nearby.
"Here," Avery said.
He stole down the hall and paused before a certain doorway. Instantly dismay rose in him, and he staggered back and cursed.
"What is it?" Sheridan said, approaching.
Then she saw it, too, and made a low noise far back in her throat. The transmitter lay broken, shattered by gunfire, and a dead body, riddled by gunfire, slumped across it.
"Damn it all," she said. "After all this, and we can't even summon the navies."
"We'll find another way," Avery said, but he heard the hollowness in his voice.
"You're not going to find anything," said a voice behind them.
They spun to see Colonel Hurisvecta standing like a specter of death, his pistol leveled at them. Half of his face and body appeared blackened, and blood dripped from one of his eyebrows into his eye. He must have been caught in the grenade explosion, but he'd been leading from behind and had managed to shield himself from the worst of the blast with the bodies of his troops.
"Now I know why you came here," he said, obviously speaking through incredible pain. "It wasn't the Triarch at all. You assassinated Lady Jivini. Well, you may have accomplished it, but you won't live to enjoy your victory, you bastards."
"You've got it wrong," Avery said. "You—"
Hurisvecta raised his pistol to Sheridan's forehead and started to squeeze the trigger. The moment seemed to stretch, and Avery had time to see the gleam of sweat on her skin, the tense bunching of her jaws, and the coiled springiness of her amazing body. She was about to raise her gun, but Avery knew it was too late. They were both doomed. Hurisvecta would kill them both and there was nothing he could do about it.
Unless ...
He lurched forward, hands stretched out toward Hurisvecta's burned face, as if to grab his wound and squeeze it. That was all it took. Hurisvecta swiveled his aim, just fractionally, and in that moment Sheridan's arm moved like lightning, and the pistol erupted in her hand. Hurisvecta gasped and flew backward, a hole in his chest. He hit the ground and slid, then came to a stop, dead already. The gun dropped from his nerveless fingers.
Avery and Sheridan glanced from him to each other.
"Nice teamwork," Avery said.
She didn't answer, but he could see the warmth in her eyes, and the respect. She appreciated what he'd done and why, even if she wouldn't say it.
But then, to his shock, she did: "Yes."
The word was soft and low, but there was no doubt in it, and no condescension.
She reached out a hand and he squeezed it. Despite everything, despite the dead body at their feet and the gunshots in the background, he leaned in and kissed her, and she kissed back, her lips firm and hot on his own. Yes, he thought. It's her. It's always been her. He wasn't sure why, but his heart belonged to Admiral Jessryl Sheridan, spy and killer, not Layanna of the House of Uul. He hadn't been sure until now. He'd suspected, but he hadn't known. What did he do with that knowledge?
"Let's get out of here," she said, breaking away.
They returned back the way they'd come, vanishing back inside the crystal halls and the relative safety inside. The sounds of gunfire and shooting diminished behind them.
"That was close," Avery said.
"Close is okay, but it didn't accomplish the mission."
"No. No, it didn't, at that. Well, we'll worry about that later."
They pushed on down the hallway. Reaching a curling crystal ramp, they descended to the next level. The tunnel curved, and they followed it as it wound and glittered. When it forked, Sheridan hesitated, then chose the right-hand path.
“You know where you’re going?” he said.
“I’m just going down, and I think this way goes there. I did some light exploring earlier, but I didn’t have time for much. We need to descend and get out of here.”
They continued down the hall, one way, then the other. Avery had no clue which direction they were going, and he was beginning to suspect Sheridan didn’t, either. Eventually, however, they found themselves on a lower level, and Sheridan triggered a certain panel that admitted the two outside. Avery found himself staring down over the precipice the pyramid perched upon. The sea boomed along the docks below.
“What now?” he said. “We’re not going to scale down the cliff, I hope.”
Sheridan looked faintly amused. “Fear not, my brave king.”
Working cautiously, they edged along the cliff face until they were clear of the pyramid, then found a ruin to hole up in. By that time, Triarch Thisinc’s military, which had been ringing the Grand Pyramid in defense of it, now openly attacked it. The Octunggen and the islanders that had been their allies were now at war with each other. Avery and Sheridan waited the battle out anxiously as the great guns boomed and the sound of small-arms fire drifted from the pyramid itself. Guilt tore at Avery, thinking of all those who were dying because of his actions, but he told himself that at least the war was ending. Gradually the noise of the fighting stopped and people began to emerge from the now-smoking structure.
Triarch Thisinc materialized and conferred with his generals and other military leaders. His people brought the surviving Octunggen out—in handcuffs. The Eberlins herded them to a nearby building and locked them up while the Triarch’s people that had been holed up in the pyramid continued to stream out of it, some looking shell-shocked and dazed.
“Interesting that they’re abandoning the pyramid,” Avery said, side by side with Sheridan at a window. “It’s their holy place.”
“It’s full of bodies now,” she said. “It’s a place of death. Also, it’s just been assaulted by tank-fire and might be structurally unsound.” She paused. “Should we present ourselves?”
* * *
Avery and Sheridan left their sanctuary and tried to blend in with the mass of Eberlins crowded before the Grand Pyramid, then made themselves known to the Triarch, who was comforting his family. Unlike Hurisvecta, Thisinc didn’t appear to consider the doctor an enemy, and Avery certainly didn’t share the role he’d played in all this with the fellow. Avery and Sheridan were given food, water and new clothes, then shown to the building that Thisinc was using as his new base of operations, a former office building not far from the Pyramid. The Eberlins gave the pair two offices, but they used only one.
Avery stared out of the office window toward the Grand Pyramid. It still smoked in places, and he could see what might be pools of blood leaking out from some of the entrances and dripping down the steps, hardening as they did. Exhaustion sapped his strength, but before he allowed himself to sleep he approached Triarch Thisinc, still with his family, now in a large room of the building, and drew him aside.
“I have a favor to ask,” Avery said.
“But of course,” said Thisinc. “You’re a friend to my gods.” He shook his head, awed and bewildered by the thought. “It’s still hard to believe.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“What can I do for you?”
“The Octunggen said they were using messenger birds to communicate with the towns of the Rim, and that they’d received one message in particular last night, so the birds must be kept close. I need multiple copies of a note drawn up and sent, via pigeon, to all the Collossumist temples on the Rim. Have it penned by Jivini’s surviving priests—I don’t think you’ll encounter any resistance. They’ll want to communicate with their people, and I think they’ll embrace the message.”
Thisinc found pen and paper. Preparing to write, he said, “What will the message be?”
“‘With deep regret, we’re writing to inform you that our dear and beloved Lady Jivini is dead. She was smited by agents of Lady Layanna in response to her failure in subduing the Core. We now bow to the wise and benevolent Lady Layanna, who can be found residing in Ri’ithla. Send runners to her at once.’ Can you do that?”
Thisinc finished writing, then looked up. “Yes, Lord Avery, and I will ask no questions, although I hope this Layanna doesn’t also have designs on the Core? I want no more truck with the gods of Octung.”
“Don’t worry, you’re safe from Layanna.” At least until you eat some unprocessed seafood.
“Good. At any rate, the Octunggen were using a building just down the street for such communications, and my people captured it at the first onset of the violence last night. I’ll have the message sent right away, and I’ll be sure to have the priests include any necessary codes to their brethren in the Rim temples.”
“That should legitimize Layanna’s rule,” Avery told Sheridan later, as they lay in bed and sunlight, breaking through the clouds, poured in through the window. They had both just woken up. “If nothing else, we’ve done that much.”
"So what now?"
"Thisinc is a gentleman. He's already sent word to Triarch Sanis that her daughter died in the fighting, and he's expecting her to be mobilizing. Soon she'll join her forces with those of Triarch Nethem, the Triarch currently laying siege to Thisinc’s forces. Thisinc knows he can’t stand against both of them, especially not without the help of the Octunggen, so he’s already planning his surrender. Soon the island will be at peace. Layanna, now in charge of the Rim, will make common cause with the people of the Core. I'll lay the groundwork. Thisinc will introduce us to Triarchs Nethem and Sanis when he surrenders, and we'll say I simply got caught up in the fighting and was captured."
"By me?"
"By someone else. You'll be my traveling companion."
Sheridan smiled wanly. "Sounds very neat and tidy. So then all we'll have to do is sit and wait for the armies of the Rim and Core to start operating together. Then they might be able to hold off Segrul—or at least slow him down long enough for your navies to get here. If we can ever summon them."
Avery brooded on it as the machine of war ground to a halt, at least in this arena. Things played out much as he had hoped, and within hours he and Sheridan were being driven through the no-man's-land by Triarch Thisinc's driver, with the Triarch himself in the backseat beside them. Their vehicle tutted along in the midst of a long convoy.
The convoy pulled into a plaza, where Triarchs Sanis's and Nethem’s militaries were forming up. Warm sunshine washed the scene of surrender. Gravely, Thisinc disembarked from the auto, strode toward Nethem’s ambassador, a surprisingly young man, and signed a piece of paper while Nethem and Sanis stood over him. In the background, reporters snapped pictures and television cameras rolled.
Thisinc’s face drew into tight lines, his movements becoming slow and heavy; he must know that prison awaited him, possibly even execution. He bore it all stoically, however, and his family, arrayed behind him, gave him their silent support. A long process of talking and formal operations and arrests began, but Avery and Sheridan didn’t bother watching. They found an aide to Triarch Nethem, who alerted that worthy to their presence. This ultimately worked, as that aide took them to his leader, and that leader brought them to her leader, Torin Nethem.
The copper-skinned politician gave a speech to a television camera, but when he finished Avery and Sheridan approached him.
Triarch Nethem introduced himself to Avery with some puzzlement, and Avery did the same for himself and Sheridan. The Triarch only seemed to half-believe the story that Avery had
been a captive of Thisinc's. Fortunately Thisinc had helped smooth the way and had already mentioned Avery's existence in his camp as an unwilling observer. Nethem had had a secretary fetch several international newspapers, more than one of which sported Avery's photo, to verify whom he addressed.
"What may a Triarch of Eberlith do for the King-Regent of Ghenisa?" Nethem said when he was satisfied.
“What’s the progress of the pirates’ march inland?”
“Recent reports indicate that they’re almost to the city. They … could burst through our final defenses at any time.”
"We've made arrangements to help you,” Avery said. “The people of the Rim are now unified under our friend's rule, or will be soon. Word is even now spreading from town to town along the coast of Jivini's death and Layanna's—that's our friend—her ascension to her throne. Or dais, perhaps. I suggest sending an envoy to her to hash out the details of working together." Quickly he explained how to find her, and the Triarch conferred with his generals, then returned to Avery.
"I've just arranged for the envoy to visit her immediately,” the Triarch said.
"Excellent."
"Meanwhile I'll have you and your friend taken to my mansion and given rooms, if that's acceptable."
"That would be wonderful."
While Nethem made arrangements, Avery sent a car to fetch Janx, who waited for them at the motel they’d stayed at last night, and shortly the big man was brought to them.
“Doc!” he roared, stepping out of the jeep.
Avery felt a smile split his face. “Janx!” He and the whaler clapped hands and hugged. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah,” Janx said.
Sheridan nodded at the big man but said nothing.
“You arrived just in time,” Avery told him. “The Triarch was just about to take us to his estate. We’ll await Segrul’s invasion there and hopefully be able to provide some advice. We’ll orchestrate matters from a place of safety. Meanwhile Layanna will consolidate her rule and coordinate her forces with those of the Core. She could arrive at any time.”