Роберт Беннет - Foundryside

The imperiat’s dreadful screech faded. She lay on the table, breathing hard and staring up at the dark ceiling.

Slowly, Tomas, Enrico, and the guards all staggered to their feet, groaning and blinking.

“What was that?” cried Tomas. “What in hell was that ?”

“It was…the imperiat,” said Enrico. He picked up the device and stared at it, dazed.

“What’s wrong with the damned thing?” said Tomas. “Is it broken?”

Sancia slowly turned her head to stare at the ancient lexicon with the golden lock.

“It…it was like the alarm was set off,” said Enrico. He blinked in panic. “But it was set off by something…significant.”

“What?” Tomas said. “What do you mean? By her ?”

“No!” said Enrico, glancing at Sancia. “Not by her! She couldn’t have…” He paused, staring at her.

But Sancia took no notice of him. She was looking at the ancient lexicon.

It’s not a lexicon, though , she thought dreamily. Is it? It’s a sarcophagus, just like the ones in the crypt. But there’s someone in there…Someone alive.

“Oh my God,” said Enrico lowly. “Look at her.”

Tomas grew closer. His mouth opened in horror. “God…Her ears…her eyes . They’re bleeding!”

Sancia blinked, and she realized he was right: blood was welling up from her eyelids and her ears, just like it had in Orso’s house. Yet she had no thought for it: she only thought of the words still echoing in her ears.

How do I get them to leave?

She realized she had one option — something she could give them that might make them go away. It would be an outrageous lie, but maybe they’d buy it.

“The capsule,” she said suddenly.

“What?” said Tomas. “What’s this about a capsule?”

“It’s how I got onto the campo,” she said. She coughed and swallowed blood. “How I got close to the Mountain. I had one of Orso’s men help me. He put me in a big, metal casket, and it swam deep underwater up the canal. And he’s the one who was supposed to catch the air-sailing rig. If he went anywhere to hide — it’d be there. You’d never think to look there.”

Enrico and Tomas exchanged a glance. “Where is this…this capsule?” asked Tomas.

“I left it in the canals by the barge docks south of the Mountain,” she said quietly. “Orso’s man could be hiding on the bottom of the canal…or he might be making it back to the Dandolo campo with the key.”

“Now?” said Tomas. “Right now ?”

“It was one escape route for me,” she said, inventing the lie on the spot. “But the capsule doesn’t move fast.”

“We…we have not searched any of the canals on the campo, sir,” said Enrico quietly.

Tomas chewed his lip for a minute. “Get a team ready. Immediately. We’re going to have to comb the waters. And take that thing.” He nodded at the imperiat.

“The device?” said Enrico. “Are you sure, sir?”

“Yes. This is Orso Ignacio we’re dealing with. I know what we give our thugs — but God only knows what he gives his.”

Sancia lay on the operating table, staring up at the ceiling. Enrico and Tomas had departed, leaving behind two of their guards, who both looked tired and bored. Sancia herself felt little better: her head still ached, and her face was now crusty and sticky with blood.

Mostly, though, she felt anxious. It had been nearly ten minutes since Enrico and Tomas had left, yet the voice in her head had not spoken again. Supposedly it was going to help her escape, but so far it had remained silent.

And even if it did speak again…what would it say? Who was it, really? Was it like the Mountain? But she’d only been able to hear the Mountain because she’d been touching Clef, like it was with every other scrived device — and now she didn’t have him, of course. So how could she hear it?

She suspected the voice came from whatever was in the box on the table…but the box likely came from the hierophants. In fact, if she was right, it resembled the box she’d glimpsed in Clef’s vision. And that meant…

Well. She didn’t know what that meant, really. But it disturbed her plenty.

One of the guards yawned. The other scratched his nose. Sancia sniffed and tried to dislodge a crust of blood from her nostril.

Then, slowly, the side of her head began to feel warm.

A voice flooded her thoughts:

Sancia stiffened. One of the guards glanced at her. The other ignored her. She sat there, frozen, wondering how to respond.

The voice spoke again: A pause. Then her head flared hot, and the voice spoke so loud it hurt:

Sancia flinched.

The warmth in her head receded.

said the voice.

The voice was strange. Clef had sounded quite human, and even the Mountain had displayed a few human affectations — but this voice did not. The impression she got was that it was struggling to make words, fashioning sentiments and intent from…something else. She was reminded of a street show she’d seen once, where a performer had artfully tapped on steel pans in such a way that they sounded like birdsong. This was like that, but with words and thought.

Yet she knew the voice was female. She couldn’t say why, but she understood that.

asked Sancia.

said the voice,

Sancia waited for more. When none came, she said,

The voice sounded frustrated.

Sancia’s mouth slowly fell open. She turned to look at the battered box with the golden lock.

This was almost impossible for her to believe. The Mountain had been sentient to a degree, but it had been a huge creation, powered by six advanced lexicons. Yet this entity occupied only a moderately large box. It was like hearing someone was carrying around a volcano in their pocket.

She remembered what the Mountain had said: I once contained…something…I sensed a mind there. Impossibly big, huge, powerful. But…it did not deign to speak to me…

she asked.

A soft click. Another soft series of clicks. <���…clerk? Is that term appropriate?>

Sancia said.

Sancia had to admit that manifesting as a gold, nude woman definitely did get her attention.

she said, though that frankly disturbed her.

A click.

This didn’t make Sancia feel any less disturbed.

said Valeria.

said Valeria.

said Sancia.

Click.

said Valeria.

Sancia looked at the box — and looked closely at the golden lock set in its center.

she said.

A soft series of clicks echoed through her mind — and they sounded somewhat skittish to Sancia, like a cave of bats fleeing a beam of light.

said Valeria.

Sancia watched the box. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking of it as a sarcophagus. The idea of opening up this ancient casket deeply unsettled her.

Should I believe this voice in my head? This thing that was wrought by the Occidentals themselves?

asked Sancia.

said Valeria.

Sancia listened to this carefully. This matched with what she and Clef and Orso had determined — but she still found it difficult to trust this voice in her mind. she asked.