Philemus raised his eyebrows. "Miners?"
Rudolfo stroked his beard and nodded. "And I want two of Isaak's mechoservitors brought up. If they do not have cartographic and geological familiarity then Charles should script them for it based on whatever we have in the library catalog."
The Second Captain nodded, and Rudolfo saw the understanding dawn in his eyes. "Aye, General."
"I want a half-squad assigned to each miner," Rudolfo continued, "and I want mapping shifts around the clock. "If this is is a gift-if it truly does give access to the Machtvolk Territories-I want to know everything about it." He paused. "And I want our neighbors to know a gift-if it truly does give access to the Machtvolk Territories-I want to know everything about it." He paused. "And I want our neighbors to know nothing nothing."
"I'll see to it, General," Philemus said, inclining his head.
The others left first until only he remained, with the scout who bore the lantern.
Rudolfo looked down the well once more, then turned away from it. There was a day, he realized, when he would have stayed and commanded this effort himself. He'd have even climbed down the well and set about exploring what lay below with his men. But something had changed. He wished he could say it was the investigation into the attack on his family, but it would only be partially true.
After half a lifetime of security, I no longer feel safe.
No, he remembered, not quite half a lifetime. He reached back and took hold of that first day he truly felt unsafe, there on the grass as he held his dying father while Fontayne's mob of insurrectionists shouted curses upon his family.
Even then, he'd laid hold of every resource, every possible tool or weapon to root out the insurrection that House Li Tam had sown among his people. He had not stopped until every last bit of that vile weed was eradicated from his forest. And he'd watched every last one of them find redemption beneath the blades of his father's Physicians of Penitent Torture. Each penitent named three more, and in the end, peace and order returned to him and to his father's lands.
Rudolfo had not stopped until he felt safe again.
As he left the cave and started his slow climb back into a snow-flurried day, the Gypsy King knew it would be the same this time as well. Because they'd tried to take his family from him for a second time, and it sparked something deeper than the loss and fear. It sparked anger.
I will not stop until I feel safe again.
And for just a moment, Rudolfo thought he smelled salt and blood upon the wind.
Neb They ran beneath a crescent moon, its dim blue-green light wavering over ridges of molten glass and gray barren slag. Neb steadied the girl as they forced their legs to carry them, powered by the root they chewed. They'd be out of root soon, he realized. With the two of them chewing it, his supply was running dangerously low.
They ran by night, hiding themselves by day as best they could, finding the ruined pockets in the ground or hills where they slept fitfully before waking to run again.
They pressed westward, zigging and zagging across the landscape.
As they ran in silence, Neb tried not to admire his companion's graceful stride. He'd tried to bring more conversation out of her, but she'd been close-mouthed since that afternoon they'd set out. He'd not even been able to wrest her name from her.
A pack of kin-wolves howled a league or two north of them, and Neb steered them south. He could feel the strain of the run in his feet and calves, the solid jarring of his lower back as each booted foot found its purchase in a long and stretched-out stride. He glanced to the woman again.
She ran with her head up and moving slightly side to side, and if her shoulder pained her, she didn't show it. Her long legs stretched out beside him. She wore her pack high on her shoulders, cinched down for easy running, and if she'd had her iron knives upon her narrow hips, she'd have looked the part of a scout.
They put three leagues between them and the wolves before he whistled them to a stop near a patch of scrub they could use as cover. Neb drew his canteen and passed it to her first, admiring the long line of her neck as she tipped back her head and drank from it.
I cannot take my eyes off her. It stirred something in him-guilt, he thought. He'd tried to hang on to the image of Winters with her freshly scrubbed face and her clean dress, but he couldn't lay hold of that dream. He tried to draw from memory the last time he'd stood close to her, felt her hands and mouth upon him, but it had been most of a year since he'd kissed her good-bye there in Rudolfo's garden. And this thirty-second daughter of Vlad Li Tam was here with him now, her face and form filling his eyes and the sweet smell of her sweat in his nose. It stirred something in him-guilt, he thought. He'd tried to hang on to the image of Winters with her freshly scrubbed face and her clean dress, but he couldn't lay hold of that dream. He tried to draw from memory the last time he'd stood close to her, felt her hands and mouth upon him, but it had been most of a year since he'd kissed her good-bye there in Rudolfo's garden. And this thirty-second daughter of Vlad Li Tam was here with him now, her face and form filling his eyes and the sweet smell of her sweat in his nose.
The thought of her made him blush, and he cursed himself for it, hoping she would mistake the red in his ears for exertion.
Behind them, the wolves howled again, and Neb turned his thoughts away from the girl and to their westward flight. There was only so much care they could take along the way. But he'd killed prey and left it where he could, hoping the blood would draw kin-wolves to cover their flanks. He'd also poured taint-salts into the scarce watering holes they passed. Anyone who drank from them over the next three days would find themselves incapacitated by dysentery. Even the girl proved her craft, giving him tips on how to quickly erase the evidence of their passing every ten leagues or so. "But understand," she had said, "that my sisters will also know these tricks and will know to look for them."
He looked behind them, watching the blue-green as it danced over glass and stone. "We should cover our tracks and turn south for a bit."
She passed the canteen to him. "I agree." Her brow furrowed, and when it did, her scars shifted.
He lifted the canteen to his lips and took a long swig of the tepid water. It tasted like copper in his mouth, and he tried to remember that last cool, fresh drink he'd taken. It had been months ago, when he'd been recovering with Renard's people. Even then, it had not been the sweet, cold water of the Ninefold Forest.
They covered their trail a half league behind them, established a false trail northwest and then turned south, chewing yet another bit of the root to carry them forward. As the juice took hold, Neb felt the elation seize him and gave himself to his pumping legs.
When the morning slipped upon them, they hid themselves in an abandoned Waste rat warren tucked in a crevice of pockmarked ancient stonework. The woman curled up and fell instantly asleep, and Neb watched her for a while, pondering her. She wasn't a Marsher, despite her use of the blood magicks. Her accent betrayed her even as her posture and appearance betrayed her kinship with House Li Tam. He dug into his pouch and withdrew the phial, opening the lid and sniffing the foul contents. Somehow, she was able to survive her use of them-unlike the Marshers, if what he'd heard in the Gypsy camp near D'Anjite's Bridge held true.
His eyes caught her again where the blanket fell free, exposing her bootless calf and foot. He forced them away again and tried to conjure up Winters's face.
I cannot remember her. After so long sharing dreams with her, she'd become a constant companion. Yet so quickly, she faded. He found the fickleness of his memory frustrating. He replaced the blood magicks, and his fingers lingered over the cloth-wrapped kin-raven. He pulled it out, careful not to let it touch his skin. After so long sharing dreams with her, she'd become a constant companion. Yet so quickly, she faded. He found the fickleness of his memory frustrating. He replaced the blood magicks, and his fingers lingered over the cloth-wrapped kin-raven. He pulled it out, careful not to let it touch his skin.
Holding it in the palm of his hand, Neb let the cloth fall away, exposing the black stone carving. He'd thought of it often since his first experience with it but had not let himself even bring it out.
"What are you doing?"
Her voice startled him and he jerked, spilling the kin-raven from the cloth and onto the floor. Without thinking, he snatched for it even as her hand found his wrist.
She cried out. "Don't-"
But the rest of her words fell away as his skin brushed the dark bird. Suddenly, he spun away and found himself in a darkened room that smelled like lavender. Winters stood at the foot of a bed, unbuttoning her dress and lifting it up over her lithe form. Her breasts had grown larger and her hips were more pronounced, and Neb found himself suddenly- -in a great white tower high above a deep blue sea. An enormous brown moon filled the sky, and beside him, Isaak clacked and clicked in time to the song that surrounded them, his eyes flashing bright and then dull. Neb felt the reverberation of the canticle lifting the hair on his arms and neck.
"Neb?" the startled metal man asked. His eye shutters flashed, and before Neb could answer, he stood on a hillside, looking out over a sea of glass. The thirty-second daughter of Vlad Li Tam stood beside him as winds from the north and east rushed down upon them and- -his father cried into the black stone he lay stretched out upon. "Hold fast, my son," his voice rang out. "Petronus rides for you."
A sharp pain in his wrist caused him to cry out, and he released the kin-raven. He looked up and locked eyes with the woman, his mouth falling open. Her face was washed clean of any expression, but her eyes were fierce. She twisted his wrist again, and he tried to twist himself with her. As he did, her other hand shot out and snaked the thorn rifle from the loose grip of his left hand.
She moved fast, and he found himself suddenly falling backward as she raised the rifle and pointed it at his chest. He saw her fingers stroke the thorn bulb, and he suddenly realized by the way she held it that she knew the weapon even better than he did. The bulb undulated beneath her touch, and before he could say anything, she squeezed two thorns into him.
"What are you-?" His tongue filled his mouth even as his arms fell heavy to his sides and the sudden weight of his body dragged him to the ground. She blurred ahead of him, her face still a mask, her eyes now shining emeralds so sharp that they could shred him at a glance.
"I'm sorry, Nebios," she said as the venom took hold and pulled him down toward thick, warm darkness.
The last thing he saw was her hand stretching out to take hold of the tiny black token. And the last thing Nebios Homeseeker heard before that dark swallowed him was her voice, low and suddenly sounding relieved.
"I have the Abomination right here for you, my sisters," she whispered to the kin-raven. "Come to me."
Chapter 12.
Charles.
Charles put down his screwdriver and lifted the tubelike monoscope by its leather harness. Outside, a steady snow fell, and the afternoon light that struck his work mirrors was barely enough to see by.
Of course, he could never tell if it was the lack of light or if perhaps it was just his age finally creeping home after years of squinting over his handiwork or over the words and specifications his order had dug from the ruins of the Old World and the worlds before that.
He pulled the monoscope over his head and cinched down the straps, blinking into the telescoping device as he spun gears to let more light into the tube and to adjust the lenses. He'd polished the Firstfall metal yet brighter before lining the monoscope's interior with it.
He turned to the caged rat and dropped a bit of raw meat, finely coated with a pinch of scout powders, in front of the sleeping rodent. It started, grabbed up the bit of venison and started nibbling.
The magicks took the rat quickly, and unfamiliar with the sensations, it launched itself against the sides of the cage, shaking it with the sudden burst of strength even as it warbled out of focus and then became the faintest blur. Charles tipped his head so that the monoscope was pointed at the cage, aware of how heavy it was as it pulled at him.
They weren't the blood magicks that the Marshers were using these days, but Charles hoped it was a close enough approximation to them. If so, he had accomplished a critical aspect of this work: The rat, now settling down and returning to the meat, was blurry but visible in the reflection cast into the silver of the scope.
Of course, the awkwardness of the device was another matter.
This would be improbable-maybe impossible-for a scout to wear in combat. He would turn himself to solving that problem next. For now, at least he knew it was functional and could be used for observation, even from a respectable distance. He would turn himself to solving that problem next. For now, at least he knew it was functional and could be used for observation, even from a respectable distance.
Charles moved across the room and turned back. Closing his left eye, he squinted into the tube. He could no longer tell that it was a rat, but he clearly saw something hunched over in the cage.
Yes. He smiled, pleased with his work. He smiled, pleased with his work.
He pondered his pleasure in it, meditating on the Fourth Maxim of Franci B'Yot, the behaviorist who had influenced P'Andro Whym's thinking. Examine every turn in the labyrinth of your mind, for your many thoughts are sacred in their truth, and the unexamined mind will be consumed by its fears and desires. Examine every turn in the labyrinth of your mind, for your many thoughts are sacred in their truth, and the unexamined mind will be consumed by its fears and desires.
Why is this work so satisfying to me? It did not take him long to see it. It pointed to a simpler time when he'd made simple things things.
The days spent working to bring Isaak back from the dead had changed him. When he'd first petitioned the papal offices for permission to build the mechoservitors adapted from Rufello's Book of Specifications Book of Specifications, he'd had no idea he would someday worry for an actual person person he had created-a machine that had become human somehow, or something close to it-through the grief of genocide and the blood magick of Xhum Y'Zir's final spell. he had created-a machine that had become human somehow, or something close to it-through the grief of genocide and the blood magick of Xhum Y'Zir's final spell.
The monoscope gave him such pleasure, he realized, because it was a problem he could solve. And because it distracted him from worrying about his metal child.
He'd seen little of Isaak in the past days. The metal man had spent his time locked away with the book by Tertius, and Charles suspected he was replaying the dream. The one time Charles had brought it up, Isaak had said nothing, though the shaking of his chassis, the pop of gears within and the sudden gout of steam betrayed the mechoservitor's discomfort.
Charles tried to turn his mind away from his concerns for Isaak, instead considering modifications that might make the monoscope less bulky and more conducive to scout warfare. He'd just lifted his pencil to make sketches when he heard Isaak's heavy but tentative knock on his door. He put down the pencil. "Come in."
Isaak came in and closed the door behind him. His bellows pumped, and steam shot from the exhaust grate set between his metal shoulders. "I've received a courier from Lord Rudolfo," the metal man said. "I wish to discuss it with you." Isaak looked to him and then looked away. "I wish to discuss the dream with you as well."
Charles nodded and gestured to the heavy stool near his worktable. "Sit with me, Isaak."
Charles sat, too, and waited for Isaak to speak. When he did, it seemed he spoke faster than normal, as if his words were crowding his narrow throat. "Lord Rudolfo has sent word by courier that an operation in the north requires two of the library's mechoservitors. They are required to have scripting or archived holdings in cartography and geology."
Curious, Charles thought. He felt his eyebrows raise. "I wonder what he's found there?" Charles thought. He felt his eyebrows raise. "I wonder what he's found there?"
Isaak's chassis trembled. "I do not know. He has asked me to decide which are best suited and send them north under scout protection in utmost secrecy."
Charles noted the lie Isaak's body betrayed with such subtlety. Perhaps it was a half lie. Perhaps it was a half lie. "Regardless, his specifications are clear. It should be easy enough to identify the two best equipped." "Regardless, his specifications are clear. It should be easy enough to identify the two best equipped."
"Yes," he said. "But there is more, Father." He paused, his eyes flashing brighter and then dimmer. "I am proceeding further in my comprehension of the dream. Tertius's volume was ... clarifying."
Charles wanted to ask him about the dream but did not. Instead, he forced himself to wait.
Finally, Isaak spoke, and when he did, Charles heard determination and passion in the metal man's voice. "I must join my cousins in their work," the metal man said, bursting into tears that filled the room with the smell of wet copper. "I must leave Lord Rudolfo and the library in other hands and serve the light revealed within the dream."
Charles felt the weight of the words and reached over to place a hand upon Isaak's shoulder. He wanted to ask him why, but everything the arch-engineer needed to hear was in his metal son's voice. "You're going north, too," he said.
Isaak nodded. "The equation holds true: My work here will not save the light. My work with my cousins may."
Charles had heard less conviction in the voices of fresh acolytes, still red-faced with zeal. He blinked at it. "When will you leave?"
"Three days from now," he said, his eye shutters blinking tears from the ducts set just beneath his jeweled eyes. "I will not run with the others. I will ride with a caravan of fresh recruits."
Charles nodded. It was enough time to set the mechoservitors to their tasks. "And where will you go?"
Isaak's chassis did not shake this time, though Charles was prepared for it to do so. "I will follow my cousins into the Beneath Places and join them in their analysis of the Book of Dreaming Kings."
The Beneath Places. Charles felt his face pale. He'd heard stories, of course. The buried basements of the world-civilizations built by survivors over the top of yet more basements stretching back to the forgotten times, the time of the Younger Gods. Charles felt his face pale. He'd heard stories, of course. The buried basements of the world-civilizations built by survivors over the top of yet more basements stretching back to the forgotten times, the time of the Younger Gods.
Charles looked at Isaak, already calculating how much time he would need to teach the mechoservitors how to reproduce the monoscopes based on his prototype. After that, he would need time to pack and time to be certain the mechoservitors here could maintain themselves as needed. He did not believe for a moment that he would be gone for long. He also did not believe Isaak would be gone long, either, despite the passion he heard in the metal man's voice.
Still, his metal son was leaving, and Charles needed to be ready to leave with him and stay with him until either Isaak's cracked heart broke or until this strange dream had worked itself out of him.
When Isaak stood and left, Brother Charles watched the door and wondered how a thing that he had made could now be a person he loved. And how that person could compel him to action without answers to his questions, with questions left largely unasked.
He did not know. But he knew he was going and that once he had a plan in place, he would inform Isaak and House Steward Kember of his intentions.
Charles returned to his workbench, pushed aside his sketches and started plotting out the hours of his next three days.
Jin Li Tam They pulled the heavy pine door closed behind them, forcing the winter wind back. Servants surged forward to take Jin Li Tam's, Winters's and Ria's heavy fur robes. They'd spent the morning in a leisurely breakfast and had then set out on foot to the new school, walking on paths plowed clean of snow by men with mules and sticks.
We are far north this winter, Jin Li Tam thought. At least fifty leagues farther than she'd been with the Wandering Army. She instinctively reached for Jakob's head again, touching his tiny ear. He rode snug and warm in his harness, sound asleep, though she was certain he would be hungry soon. Jin Li Tam thought. At least fifty leagues farther than she'd been with the Wandering Army. She instinctively reached for Jakob's head again, touching his tiny ear. He rode snug and warm in his harness, sound asleep, though she was certain he would be hungry soon.
She wiped the snow from her boots onto the thick towels that had been placed there for them.
Ria did the same, smiling at Winters as she did. "I think you'll appreciate this," she said, "given your love of learning. Father's Androfrancine gave you a taste of what we're doing here." She said the word Androfrancine Androfrancine with an unmasked tone of disgust. with an unmasked tone of disgust.
Jin Li Tam's eyes went to Winters's face just in time to see the look of surprise there. The girl glanced her direction, and the spark of anger that Jin saw gave her pause.
Ria walked down a carpeted hall to another door. Behind it, Jin heard a voice talking in a measured and gentle voice. Pausing, Ria smiled at her and then opened the door.
The classroom sat thirty children easily, lined up on plank tables and benches facing a teacher who sat at a small table at the head of the room. When they saw their queen, they stood.
"Good afternoon, children," Ria said. "I've brought you a most important guest."
Ria motioned for Jin Li Tam to enter, and she hesitated. Checking Jakob again, she stepped into the classroom.
As one, the teacher and the students bowed deeply. The teacher blushed. "Great Mother, I am honored to meet you. When I heard that you were bringing the Child of Promise to our school, I wept for joy."
Now Jin Li Tam found herself blushing. She couldn't find any words, and she was unable to meet the open adoration in the woman's eyes. She looked instead to Winters, who'd stepped into the room to stand beside her. The anger she'd seen was now tucked away, and Jin Li Tam noted the skill with which Winters concealed it.
Ria went to an empty section of table with three small chairs, motioning for them to sit. Once they had, the children sat, too. "I thought," the Machtvolk queen said to the children, "that we might sit with you and hear what you are learning."
The teacher beamed. "I was teaching them about the Great Promise."
Ria inclined her head. "Please continue."
The teacher returned the slight bow and walked to her table. Sitting down, she picked up the newly bound book. "Join me, children, in the fourth verse of the sixth chapter of the Last Gospel of Ahm Y'Zir."