Adrian Tchaikovsky - Blood of the Mantis

Do I really want to know this? ‘There’s… a city in the lake?’ Gaved enquired carefully.

‘Three,’ Sef said tonelessly. ‘Genavais, Peregranis and Scolaris.’

‘Spider cities,’ Gaved said.

‘Once,’ Sef confirmed in a whisper. ‘But not since the masters came.’

‘This isn’t making any sense,’ Thalric snarled, disgusted. ‘She’s mad. She must be.’

She could be mad. Gaved looked into Sef’s frightened face and decided he could believe that. It would be the easiest way to explain her, too… save for those others who were so desperate to regain her. Three cities that he had never heard of? Three cities in the lake…

He began to stand up, and she suddenly caught at the sleeve of his long coat, so that he froze halfway.

‘I want to tell you,’ Sef hissed urgently, ‘because they don’t want you to know. They will kill me just because they don’t want you to know.’

Gaved looked towards Thalric, but the ex-Rekef man simply shrugged and went back to his reading. Gaved slowly sat down again.

‘So tell me then,’ he said.

‘Ours. They were our cities,’ said Sef, keeping her voice very low, as though she was afraid that her pursuers would hear her from somewhere else in Jerez, or across the silent surface of Lake Limnia. ‘We tell ourselves, mother to daughter. They were our cities, and the masters were once our slaves, long ago.’

‘What masters?’ Thalric demanded. ‘What slaves?’

Gaved sent him an angry look, but behind it he was still pondering. ‘Beetle-kinden,’ he then said. ‘The man who came to us was Beetle-kinden, coming out of a wet night, all armour and no cloak… Well, if he’s from the lake he wouldn’t need to worry about getting rained on.’

‘Beetle-kinden…’ Thalric started off derisively, but then clearly thought about it, and Gaved guessed the path his mind was taking.

‘In the bad old days, the Apt races were nothing but slaves in many places, before the revolution.’

‘Revolution, yes.’ Sef was looking from Gaved’s face to Thalric’s. ‘Our cities, that we made, that we wove and filled with air, but then they cast us down. We tell each other all of this, mother to daughter. They chained us with their machines and their weapons. They sat where we had sat, and cast us down to where they had once been.’

‘Only justice,’ said Thalric dryly. ‘Anyway, the Spiders of the Spiderlands seem to be doing well enough for themselves, so this lot must have been an inferior breed.’

‘Or just lacking enough space to manoeuvre,’ Gaved said softly. ‘Cities beneath the lake, and not great cities, surely – where could they go, when their slaves rose up against them?’

‘You’re speculating.’

Gaved nodded. ‘And all we have is her word, and all that’s probably made of is whatever folk tales she’s cobbled together. Still…’ He sensed the lake outside, that great expanse of water stretching past the horizon, unplumbed, marsh-edged, a haunt of Skater bandits and monstrous creatures.

‘It’s nonsense and she’s mad,’ Thalric declared, though a little uneasily.

‘Please,’ Sef said, tugging again at Gaved’s sleeve. ‘they will come for me. They will take me back.’

‘You escaped all this,’ Thalric pointed out. ‘So it can’t be that difficult. But why haven’t we heard of this before.’

‘I was supposed to die,’ Sef said simply. ‘Master Saltwheel had us taken to his testing grounds, to his laboratory. We were supposed to die, to be killed by his weapon. But it ruptured the wall of the city. The others died, but I grasped the air and held it to me, and then I swam. The others died or were caught, but I swam and swam towards the light. We have escaped before. Into the lake itself, the caves or the deep water. They sniff us out, though. They always bring back the bodies, for everyone to see. There is nowhere safe between the walls of our world that we may hide from them. So I… I came up to gather air. I knew that Master Saltwheel would hunt me down, so I left that world.’

The Wasps were now staring at her, quite blankly. She bared her white teeth at them, shaking constantly with fear and desperation and sheer frustration.

‘To this horrible place!’ she suddenly cried out, words long held trapped below now forcing their way to the surface. ‘To this horrible empty place! This open place where there is no end to it, and no walls, and where everything weighs me down! And the surface is too far away overhead and too great, so great, and the light of it burns my skin by day! And my throat and eyes hurt all the time, and… and… and… They will catch me eventually and kill me with the long, slow death, and it would have been better if Master Saltwheel had killed me with his machines than I ever came out here.’ Her hands balled into fists that were pressed close to her face, a face contorted with an uncontrollable horror of everything within her sight and knowledge.

‘Saltwheel,’ Gaved repeated. Amidst this madness it was such an ordinary-sounding Beetle name that it chilled him all on its own.

‘Weapons testing?’ Thalric pointed out. ‘If any of this is true, how could they be Apt, operating underwater? You can’t have any artifice without something so basic as fire, surely?’ His eyes narrowed at Sef, who had fallen into a crouch, hands still raised to her face. ‘Answer me, slave!’

‘We have fire,’ Sef replied, sounding almost proud. ‘We have fire. We fill our cities with air. But the masters, they have engines that need no fire, no air.’ She inhaled a long breath. ‘I have told you all now. They will hunt me down and they will kill me, but I have told you.’

Gaved glanced at Thalric again, seeing that the other man’s scepticism was almost entirely shattered. No doubt he was thinking like a Rekef again, thinking about a possible future threat to the Empire he had supposedly turned his back on.

Lake Limnia is out there. Gaved could feel it, its watery chasms, its unplumbed mystery. If only I could see! He would never see it, of course – even if it was anything more than Sef’s imagination.

Best to hide her, though, just in case. He and Nivit could do that, if only he could convince Nivit to help. Best to hide her, whether this Saltwheel she mentioned was a Beetle of land or water.

The door rattled then and they all jumped, even Thalric. It was just Tisamon and Tynisa returning, though, pausing in the doorway at the sight of the pale and worried faces of the two Wasp-kinden within.

The key to this venture was calm, and Lyrus embraced calmness as a constant companion. Here he was in the Queen’s chosen audience chamber, which he and two other servants had set up and prepared not long before. Before fetching Maker he had held back to give the room one more look over. That was all the time he needed to ensure that the crossbow was properly hidden within the sombre drapes hanging to one side of the room’s two lofty windows. He had unbarred the shutters on the windows themselves, and he knew that nobody would check them. Even with the Empire now looming so large in their mind, his kin here still did not think in three dimensions. Within the Lowlands the military threat to an Ant city-state was from other states of their own kind.

It was now all in readiness, with Maker and his entourage waiting in the antechamber. Lyrus took his place at the back of the room, knowing that he would be easily overlooked, seen as part of it. To the visitors he would be merely a servant, possessing a servant’s customary invisibility, and to the Queen and her staff just one of their own people doing his job.

The Queen came in first, with only two guards. She would thus be making a show of her trust, as leverage for whatever she wanted from the Collegium ambassador. Lyrus caught the edge of the thoughts she conveyed to her warders, counselling patience but urging them to be ready if she decided to make her move.