Adrian Tchaikovsky - Heirs of the Blade

He knelt beside her, trying to see some clue that would help him unravel her, but she remained a mystery. She had not woken again since after the attack on the barge. She barely seemed to breathe. He had no way to help her, or even to understand what was wrong.

Varmen had not departed, not yet. He and his uncomplaining little pack-beetle were forever on the point of heading off, but somehow each new dawn saw him still hanging around.

Che refused to eat. Thalric had managed to force a little water down her, but surely not enough to keep her alive. Instead, whatever was holding her in this unconscious state seemed to be sustaining her as well. That was yet another thing he could not understand.

‘Suon Ren,’ he murmured. ‘That’s where she was heading.’

‘Principality of Roh. East of here. Canals go to it,’ Varmen explained.

Thalric looked at him almost with annoyance. ‘How do you know? Why would you know a thing like that?’

‘Been three times in the Commonweal now, since the war. You pick stuff up.’ Varmen shrugged. ‘Besides, I remember when we were marching on Shon Fhor, just before all that trouble back home kicked off and we ended up with that treaty. I was a sergeant, so I got to see the maps sometimes. We were going to surround Shon Fhor and scoop the Monarch out like eating an oyster, and the Fourth were going to press on south of the lake, to Suon Ren, and finish off taking the principality. ’Stead of which, everything fell apart round Maynes way. We lost our supply line, and wiser heads reckoned we’d bitten off enough for now on. Always wondered why we didn’t come back here, instead of all that Lowlands business.’

‘Rise of the Engineers and the merchants,’ Thalric told him.

Varmen raised an eyebrow, baffled.

‘Commonweal pickings were all very well, lots of art, some decent treasure, more slaves than anyone knew what to do with, but the Lowlands is rich. They had artifice and knowledge that exceeded our own, industry, real money. Once the Consortium and the Engineering Corps got their way, the Lowlander invasion was inevitable.’

‘Goes to show you shouldn’t be too clever, eh?’ Varmen grunted, seeming much amused, then he pointed suddenly. ‘She moved!’

Thalric was instantly over beside Che again, seeing her eyelids flutter. He spoke her name three times, but only when he tried the full ‘Cheerwell’ did she frown and twitch, and then stare up at him.

‘Thalric?’

‘Che, tell me what’s happening.’ He didn’t like the hint of fear in his own voice, but there was no helping that.

‘Thalric… I was in Khanaphes, with her -’

‘Che, that doesn’t help me.’

Abruptly she was clinging to him, as though about to be swept away at any moment. ‘Thalric, it’s not over. I can still feel her there. I’m falling back. Thalric, this is magic – you have to believe me. This is old magic, and I’ve got myself into it, and I don’t know what to do.’

‘I believe you.’ His words came out without thinking, and it was almost a relief to cast off his responsibility for the situation by admitting such.

‘Suon Ren,’ Che told him urgently. ‘Salma’s father – foster-father – will have a magician at his court. He must! You can trust him.’

‘Che, not without you there to make the introductions,’ Thalric replied sharply. ‘What can I say to him? That I’m the man who enslaved his son, and whose people killed him? I won’t be welcome-’

‘He will have to understand,’ she gasped. He could feel her trembling violently, trying to brace herself against him as though a great tide was building up, ready to tear her away. ‘There is no one else. Please… I need help, Thalric. Please help me.’

‘Che, this is insane-’

But she cried out, wrapping her arms about him and, despite himself, he felt the moment when the invisible wave caught hold of her and ripped her away from him. So that, even though her body remained limp in his grasp, Che was gone again, fallen back into whatever abyss she had briefly clawed her way out of.

He laid her back down, scowling furiously, aware that Varmen was watching him, but not wanting to see the other Wasp’s expression.

‘You’ll be wanting to hop one of the locals’ barges, then,’ was all the man said.

‘They’d take me?’

Varmen shrugged. ‘Can’t hurt to ask. Maybe they’ll try to kill us, or maybe they’ll make us their new kings, who knows?’

‘Us?’ Thalric looked at him then.

The former Sentinel was sitting with one hand draped companionably across the pack-beetle’s back. When he saw Thalric’s scrutiny he shrugged, almost embarrassed. ‘Can’t see you manhandling the poor girl all that way on your own, even if you did hop a barge.’

‘And I thought you wanted me dead, because I was Rekef?’

‘Oh, you? Just don’t press your luck, is all I’ll say. She seems decent enough, though.’ Varmen smiled. ‘Wouldn’t have thought I’d find a Rekef man so caught up with one of the lesser kinden.’ His grin broadened as Thalric rounded on him, rising to the bait. ‘Don’t take offence at that, Rekef. We all need something to keep us human, right?’

The Masters of Khanaphes regarded Seda stonily.

‘Little Empress,’ said one of the women, ‘we know why you have come. You have been expected.’

‘Really?’ Seda replied. ‘And yet I feel anything but welcome.’

‘Do you think that what you seek here should be easy?’ the man asked acidly. ‘We have hoarded our power for a thousand years, so would you resent us taking steps to discourage the unworthy?’

Seda gave a hard smile, gazing up at them amid the leaping, bluish light. ‘Tell me why I am here, then?’

‘You are here to learn,’ the other woman told her.

‘It is creditable.’ The first nodded slowly. ‘You have discovered in yourself the last drop of magic known to your people, but you do not know what to do with it. You have been diligent in seeking enlightenment, until it has led you to us, the first lords and ladies of mankind. You wish to learn from us.’ They spoke softly, the Masters of Khanaphes, but their words created vast echoes that resounded – felt but unheard – about the cavernous spaces of this, their resting place. She was at the heart of it here, now, where all the remnants of ancient power had been hoarded and husbanded. Her body thrilled to it, telling her that she belonged here at their feet, as their humblest slave and servant, if only they would consent to let her know…

Seda nodded along with those thoughts. She saw Gjegevey staring at her worriedly, and wondered what it was she had woken him from. What constituted a Woodlouse nightmare?

When he saw that he had caught her eye, the old man shook his head. He must feel the leaden weight of their power and of all the ages they had stored up here. If they extended their hand to him, she mused, then perhaps he would already be kneeling before them in obeisance.

They were leaning on her, perhaps without even intending to, pressuring her into following the path that they had already set out. No doubt they could not even imagine her saying no. Their confidence in her eventual decision was complete.

Was almost complete. For, of course, she – the other one who had stood here and also been given this choice – she had refused.

And I do not kneel. Not even before the Masters of Khanaphes.

‘I think you underestimate the extent of my studies,’ she declared. Seeing their disdainful expressions, she added quickly, ‘Oh, Masters, I cannot pretend to match your many centuries. I can only guess at your long histories that the turning of the ages has overwritten. No doubt, when the world was young, you held the reins of power and the other kinden clustered around your feet like children. Perhaps, after that, you idled on your thrones while young races, those that we now think of as ancient and occult, squabbled for the scraps from your tables. Certainly I cannot guess how many centuries have passed since you last truly stirred yourselves or exercised your power. Until the Scorpions came to lay waste your city, that is, and you were forced to it. And which hand set those barbarians at your gates, if not my Empire’s? Who could have then guessed what Brugan’s foolishness would unearth?’